In 1967 Elizabeth and Richard were my guests at the annual ball given by the Thalians,.......

This particular year it was Peter Ustinov, who was making a film called The Comedians with Elizabeth and Richard. After the ceremony, everyone came back to the Karl house on Greenway to finish off the evening. Elizabeth and Richard got into a fight, carrying on as if they were doing a scene from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? By now I knew what this meant.

“Just drag her off to one of the bedrooms, Richard,” I yelled at them. “And don’t wake the kids!”

Elizabeth and I had shared so many happy times since then, and it was good to be working on Carrie’s movie together. One day Elizabeth asked to see me. There was a scene in the script about her character stealing my character’s husband while in an alcoholic blackout.

“I’m so sorry for what I did to you with Eddie,” she said.

Elizabeth sounded very emotional. It seemed clear to me that she’d been thinking about what she wanted to say.

“That was another lifetime,” I assured her. “You and I made up years ago.”

“I know, I know,” she said. “I just feel so awful when I think of how I hurt you and your children.”

We spoke often, sometimes spending time together.

One night I went to her house to watch a movie with her and took along a pumpkin pie for us to eat. The movie was The Last Samurai, starring Tom Cruise. It features a lot of sword fights, which really didn’t interest us. We sat in Elizabeth’s bed, eating pie and chatting, while Elizabeth’s nurse sat quietly beside us.

During our visit, a man dropped by with a diamond tennis bracelet for Elizabeth, asking to see her as he handed the trinket to her friend and assistant, Tim Mendelson. When Tim brought the bracelet to the bedroom and conveyed the message, Elizabeth instructed him to tell the man to come back another time.

“I don’t really like him much,” she explained to me as she put on the bracelet.

“You may have to add a diamond or two to that, so it fits better,” I said.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I’ll just wear it early in the day, when I’m not so swollen.”

Elizabeth had jewels for every occasion—and every stage of water retention.

The last time I spoke to Elizabeth, she was close to death.

“Getting old is really shitty,” I said. Elizabeth laughed that wonderful full laugh “It certainly is, Debbie. This is really tough.”

I told her to be strong and just hang in there. Elizabeth liked kidding about being ill, but she hated all that pain.

“I’m really trying,” Elizabeth said softly