Behind the Candelabra: My Life With Liberace by Scott Thorson, Alex Thorleifson Page A
Authors: Scott Thorson, Alex Thorleifson
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relentless.
Lee offered Jerry a lucrative contract, a chance to appear in the best clubs, to be featured in Lee’s shows. All he had to do in return was leave his wife and children at home while the show toured. For an aspiring entertainer an opportunity like that comes once in a lifetime, if at all. I guess Jerry couldn’t turn down a chance to make more money than he’d ever made, a chance to become a star. Lee used his money, his fame, his success, to sweeten the deal. Early in their relationship Jerry’s wife came west to try to save her marriage. Lee, still smarting years later from what he perceived as a rejection, was outraged because Jerry actually had the nerve to sleep with his wife.
Poor, naïve Mrs. O’Rourke didn’t stand a chance of keeping her husband. She couldn’t match what Lee had to offer—a chance at fame and fortune. Lee could really turn on the charm. Most of the time he reserved those high-voltage performances for the stage, where he literally wooed his audiences. When wooing a potential companion, he oozed the same potent appeal. Lee was one of those people who knew he could buy affection, or at least a reasonable facsimile. Potential protégés were inundated with costly gifts—cars, furs, jewels. Lee left no dollar unspent to get what he wanted.
But I didn’t know all that during my first weeks in Vegas. All I knew was that Jerry scared the hell out of me. I found myself in an untenable situation that I was totally unequipped to handle. By the time I’d been with Lee for a month I felt certain that moving in had been the mistake of my life. I couldn’t stand the lifestyle of the other men in the house. Like most guys my age, gay or straight, I’d had a few lovers. But, at eighteen, I wasn’t sophisticated. During the brief periods I’d spent in northern California, I’d been disgusted with the promiscuity I saw in the gay community. To see similar behavior in Lee’s home made me sick because I was getting to know Lee as a very sweet guy, a real homebody who doted on his dogs; a man who loved to putter around the house, to cook, to shop, to spend quiet days at home. Despite the glitzy, overdone decor, Lee had a real gift for creating a warm, comfortable home. And he went out of his way to make me feel at ease in it.
But I couldn’t deal with the pressure of living under the same roof with Jerry and his roommate, dealing with what I took to be Carlucci’s interference. Late one night when Lee was relaxing in the Jacuzzi, unwinding from his performance, I told him I’d be leaving. “I’m terribly sorry,” I said, “but this has been a mistake. I just can’t take your lifestyle. Carlucci’s always watching me. Jerry dislikes me. I feel like I have to watch my step every minute when he’s in the house. It’s not up to me to tell you how to live. But I can’t take it here.”
“Then I’ve failed you,” Lee said, beginning to weep loudly. “Your happiness means more to me than anything in the world, Scott—more than my own. The first time I saw you, when Black brought you backstage, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I felt something grabbing my guts, something that said this kid is one in a million. It killed me, those two weeks hoping and praying you’d call. And when you did, I can’t tell you how happy it made me. You see, Scott, I love you.”
I gulped. That was the first time in my entire life that someone had said, “I love you.” When I was little I used to imagine my mother taking me in her arms, hugging and kissing me, and saying she loved me. But it had never happened. Not with her and not with anyone else.
“I love you, Scott,” Lee repeated. “Does that mean anything to you?”
I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if I could trust him, didn’t know how to react. But something inside me that had been frozen for a long time began to thaw.
9
Lee spoiled me, just as he undoubtedly spoiled his previous lovers. Although I hoped he’d ask
Lee offered Jerry a lucrative contract, a chance to appear in the best clubs, to be featured in Lee’s shows. All he had to do in return was leave his wife and children at home while the show toured. For an aspiring entertainer an opportunity like that comes once in a lifetime, if at all. I guess Jerry couldn’t turn down a chance to make more money than he’d ever made, a chance to become a star. Lee used his money, his fame, his success, to sweeten the deal. Early in their relationship Jerry’s wife came west to try to save her marriage. Lee, still smarting years later from what he perceived as a rejection, was outraged because Jerry actually had the nerve to sleep with his wife.
Poor, naïve Mrs. O’Rourke didn’t stand a chance of keeping her husband. She couldn’t match what Lee had to offer—a chance at fame and fortune. Lee could really turn on the charm. Most of the time he reserved those high-voltage performances for the stage, where he literally wooed his audiences. When wooing a potential companion, he oozed the same potent appeal. Lee was one of those people who knew he could buy affection, or at least a reasonable facsimile. Potential protégés were inundated with costly gifts—cars, furs, jewels. Lee left no dollar unspent to get what he wanted.
But I didn’t know all that during my first weeks in Vegas. All I knew was that Jerry scared the hell out of me. I found myself in an untenable situation that I was totally unequipped to handle. By the time I’d been with Lee for a month I felt certain that moving in had been the mistake of my life. I couldn’t stand the lifestyle of the other men in the house. Like most guys my age, gay or straight, I’d had a few lovers. But, at eighteen, I wasn’t sophisticated. During the brief periods I’d spent in northern California, I’d been disgusted with the promiscuity I saw in the gay community. To see similar behavior in Lee’s home made me sick because I was getting to know Lee as a very sweet guy, a real homebody who doted on his dogs; a man who loved to putter around the house, to cook, to shop, to spend quiet days at home. Despite the glitzy, overdone decor, Lee had a real gift for creating a warm, comfortable home. And he went out of his way to make me feel at ease in it.
But I couldn’t deal with the pressure of living under the same roof with Jerry and his roommate, dealing with what I took to be Carlucci’s interference. Late one night when Lee was relaxing in the Jacuzzi, unwinding from his performance, I told him I’d be leaving. “I’m terribly sorry,” I said, “but this has been a mistake. I just can’t take your lifestyle. Carlucci’s always watching me. Jerry dislikes me. I feel like I have to watch my step every minute when he’s in the house. It’s not up to me to tell you how to live. But I can’t take it here.”
“Then I’ve failed you,” Lee said, beginning to weep loudly. “Your happiness means more to me than anything in the world, Scott—more than my own. The first time I saw you, when Black brought you backstage, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I felt something grabbing my guts, something that said this kid is one in a million. It killed me, those two weeks hoping and praying you’d call. And when you did, I can’t tell you how happy it made me. You see, Scott, I love you.”
I gulped. That was the first time in my entire life that someone had said, “I love you.” When I was little I used to imagine my mother taking me in her arms, hugging and kissing me, and saying she loved me. But it had never happened. Not with her and not with anyone else.
“I love you, Scott,” Lee repeated. “Does that mean anything to you?”
I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if I could trust him, didn’t know how to react. But something inside me that had been frozen for a long time began to thaw.
9
Lee spoiled me, just as he undoubtedly spoiled his previous lovers. Although I hoped he’d ask
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