Free The Secret Letters of Marilyn Monroe and Jacqueline Kennedy by Wendy Leigh Page B

the other.
    I do my utmost to avoid them whenever I can, and so divide my time between reading Proust, walking on the beach, and shopping on Worth Avenue. Yesterday, when I came back from Saks with a new turquoise Balenciaga ball gown, Eunice had the gall to demand the price! Of course, I did not respond, but borrowing a gown from the studio and not having to answer to anyone seems to me to be a much more desirable way of life. In the meantime, I try to brighten Jack’s days by playing checkers, categories, and twenty questions and the new game, Scrabble, with him—all of which he relishes, just as long as he can win …
    Please write when you are settled and let me know your new address.
    Love,
    Josephine
    __________________________
     
    Jackie wrote in her diary, “Marilyn obviously has no scruples whatsoever about hurting Mrs. G and any children the couple may have. But perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. I guess part of M’s charm lies in her fundamental amorality. Rather like Jack, I suppose.”

The Gladstone Hotel
     
    East 52nd Street
    New York, New York
    Josephine Kendall
    3321 Dent Place
    Washington, D.C.
    February 24, 1955
     
    Dear Josephine,
    I am sorry I haven’t written for so long, but moving back Last has been so crazy, in a nice way, that I haven’t had a moment. I am taking acting lessons with Constance Collier and am reading Ulysses and George Sand’s letters. I want more than anything else, more even than being rich, famous, or loved, to learn. Also, I want to do something right in my art when so much is going wrong in my life—all except for Mr. G. The good news is that being here hasn’t meant being apart from Mr. G for too long. He has managed to come out here—from Paris—and we have had lovely times together.
    I want to answer all your questions as well as I can. Mr. G is president of an insurance company. I don’t think Mrs. G knows about me yet. I sure hope not. I never ask him about her, because when I am with him I want to pretend that he is all mine. But I get mad when he tells me that he doesn’t have sex with her. All married men say that, you see, and I find it really insulting. I would rather he and Mrs. G were having sex all the time, but that he still wanted me. I’ve said that to him, but he just changes the subject.
    You ashed if he was planning to divorce Mrs. G. Well, ever since I married Joe, Mr. G always says how great it is that we are both married to other people. He calls it “the seesaw effect,” which he says means that we are equal because, being both married, we each would suffer if we were found out.
    So when Joe and I split up, at first I didn’t tell Mr. G. We met for dinner in a suite at the Algonquin and I didn’t say a word about Joe. I was wearing leopard skin stiletto boots. Mr. G said he loved them, so I kept them on all evening, all through everything. Then, just as he was leaving, I told him about Joe. After, I turned away, because I started crying and didn’t want him to see. If he had, I would have expected him to hug me and kiss me, but he isn’t really that sort. After I told him about Joe, he went very quiet, then he said, “You are a very strong lady, Marilyn.” I said I didn’t feel very strong and he said, “You and I would get the last piece of bread in the concentration camp.” I didn’t like that, so I said, “But I’d share it with everyone else.” He didn’t say anything, then he left. I cried all night, thinking he would never call me again, but he did, the very next morning, just to check that I was OK. He called lots of times after that, too, and we still see each other, but I would never think of asking him to leave Mrs. G. I am just happy that now I’ve come East, I can see so much more of him—because New York is far more convenient for him than Los Angeles, being closer to Paris, I mean.
    Had to stop because I got a call from Milton. I’ve been spending a lot of time with him and his wife, Amy—who is lovely—at