(2 of 3)
Fifteen minutes early to your own house? At one time, she was known as arrogant and overbearing, with above-average narcissism and self-regard even for a young actress. But over time and with a few flops under her belt, she was supposed to have mellowed. "Adorable," "charming" are the words she uses to describe her gradual transformation.
"So why did they send someone from Washington anyway?"
We've now spent more time on this inquisition than was eaten up by traffic at La Guardia. Short of couples therapy, will nothing get us out of this trough? Maybe the Washington comment is a way out, a four-lane expressway to freedom.
"You're right. They should have sent a correspondent from New York. Let's reschedule, and someone who can be 15 minutes early will come."
Hepburn turns around and heads toward the window to close it. She has noticed how cold it is in here despite the roaring fire. "Well, you're here now, aren't you? Might as well sit down."
All this time, and a simple threat to leave was all that was needed to break the logjam. A bully respects a bully. In her book, Hepburn speaks candidly of being "totally selfish," "a me, me, me person." To Ludlow Ogden Smith, her husband of six years whose only mistake was that he loved her, she admits to being an "absolute pig." He tried everything to please her, went so far as to change his name so that she wouldn't be known as Kate Smith. "Isn't that the way it is?" She shrugs. "Luddy loved me and would do anything for me. I loved Spencer and would do anything for him. So often these things are unequal."
When asked how someone so full of rectitude could fall in love with a married man, she says, "You don't pick who you fall in love with. There are so few people to love. It's hard for one adult to even like another. Almost impossible." No argument there. But what about Spencer Tracy's wife Louise, home with their deaf child. "We never lived together. He stayed in one house on George Cukor's estate, and I stayed in another nearby." Does that nicety of real estate explain why many members of the press came to romanticize her 27-year affair with Tracy? "I never talked to them. Never. They could write what they wanted but without any quotes from me, though. So they lost interest."
She offers lunch and I gratefully decline, in the interest of not being late for my next appointment. But she insists. "You kept me waiting so long, it's now lunchtime. I'm starving."
No one wants that. Better to be force-fed toasted ham and cheese than to give her cause to start up on the late thing again. She is in her trademark khakis ("look at this hole, from gardening at Fenwick"), black turtleneck, sweater tied over her shoulders. The Gap should pay her royalties. "It was the only sensible way to dress. Anything else was silly. Fussing over clothes. Idiotic."
Hepburn calls Norah, her housekeeper who got the job because she did not sit until Hepburn did, with a loud grunt of the sort not heard outside a barnyard or a soccer match. "Eeuuuuuunhhhh!" A deep breath and another grunt. "Why," Hepburn turns to confide in me, "do they only hear you the second time?"