I Hated to Do It: Stories of a Life by Donald C. Farber Page A

a drink with him at the bar above the Avon Theatre.
    As we chatted with John, since he was Brian Bedford’s dresser, we told him how Brian had kissed Annie by mistake nine years earlier. He said he had to tell Brian and ran over to Brian, who was leaning against the bar. Brian waved us to come over, and we were talking about two minutes when Brian said, “Hey, why don’t you buy my house?” I said, “Brian, I don’t know whether I will like your house,” and he replied, “You will like my house.”
    This encounter in Stratford happened in July, nine years after he kissed Annie by mistake. We returned to our apartment in New York City, and in August phoned Brian to tell him we would like to see this house, since we would be traveling upstate to look at an apartment our daughter Pat would be living in when she attended Bard College. Brian told us to come early because it had been sold and the buyer was coming in the afternoon.
    We came to see the house. It was a totally isolated old stone house built in 1650 with four bedrooms and five acres with nineteen apple trees in the front yard. The yard was a mess but the house was furnished with elegant French provincial furniture and we loved it, even though it lacked a swimming pool. But we were told it was sold.
    Being the lucky people that we are, we did something we have not done since or before that year: we went back that year to Stratford for a second time. This second trip, occasioned by a client’s involvement in a play at Stratford, we went backstage, this time to see Brian. He opened the dressing room door, looked at us, and said: “You didn’t like my house.” I said that we loved the house but we were told it was sold. Brian said the deal fell through and we should make him an offer.
    Since we met Brian nine years after he kissed Ann by mistake, and since we went to Stratford twice that year, and since Aunt Naomi, Ann’s aunt, had died and left us some money, we bought this wonderful old stone house.
    After we bought the house we were so proud of it that we went a bit crazy. We had guests almost every weekend, many of whom were theatre folk, clients and such. Estelle Parsons, Casey Childs, Ted Snowdon, and a host of other entertainers. Estelle bought a house up here after visiting us.
    One of our frequent visitors was Larry Luckinbill, who had performed in the original
The Boys in the Band
and in
The Shadowbox
and a number of other Off-Broadway and Broadway hits. I handled his divorce from his first wife, Robin Strasser, and he started coming up with Lucie Arnaz. We had some fun times together.
    Lucie was marvelous. You can only imagine the luxury that she had growing up, but in our house, at the end of the dinner meal, she was the first one in the kitchen at the sink, washing the pots and pans. She was an ideal visitor.
    And then one day I’m upstate minding my own business when Larry Luckinbill rings me to tell me that he and Lucie want to get married next weekend in Paris, will I arrange it. I said, “Larry, you have to be kidding. I’m a lawyer, not a magician.” He said, “OK, then your house is next.” So plans were made for Lucie and Larry to get married at our house.
    I scurried around to help with the license and found a judge in the neighborhood who would marry them. Mom and Dad, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, arranged to be there and made provision for a bus to bring their many friends, some from Hollywood and some from other places in the US. The bus brought Tommy Tune, Desi Jr., Larry’s agent, Lucie’s agent, Desi’s then-present wife, Lucy’s then-present husband, and some Hollywood types, some of whom I had heard of, some I had never heard of.
    It all went off splendidly. The ceremony was right in our front yard of the old stone house, and then they spread plastic sheets on the ground and sat on them eating a prepared lunch. We furnished a lot of wine, and it was not all consumed because after everyone had their fill and parted, there