![]() Her mother - probably the only other person who knew about it - slept in a bed with the child in a vain attempt at protection. Margarita Carmen Cansino grew up with a sickening, isolating secret: her father was sexually abusing her. She crosses her legs, barely touches the food, and talks and talks. Her hair is washed free of the day’s set and spray, her face polished clean of makeup, her dress a plain white caftan thrown over her naked body. Dinner is served on the floor, and we eat to the cacophony of noise from the street. I stay with the wine, but she graduates to bourbon. Whoever has the most trucks by dinnertime gets treated. All trucks passing by her window going left to right are mine. Three stories below is the main street of the town, brightly lit, dusty, dirty, and noisy. And we sit by the open window, our elbows resting on the low wooden sill. She buys dozens of candles, lights them all, and puts them on every surface, including the floor. Each of us wanted something from the other, and neither of us much contemplated motive or consequence.Ī ritual began. The 20-year difference in our ages suited the unreality of time and place. Rita grasped at me and I chose to take her on. We could just as easily have floated in opposite directions, but real life is now reel life, and on movie locations personal relationships are less often chosen than grasped at. ![]() Rita and I drift toward each other like two boats on an unfamiliar sea, torn free of their moorings. Neither had a single bad thing to say about her, they seemed to feel kind of sorry for her. Gary Merrill - Bette's ex - and Frank Langella both wrote about dating her in their biographies.
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