Dear Diary, it's Marilyn

Chapter 35

Sorry I made you wait so long. I had camp, school is starting, and I had to deal with a few issues. Writing this felt really good though. And thanks to those who encouraged me to write.

Chapter 35

            1…

            I slowly placed my shopping bags down. The wine bottles clanked against each other as they were lowered to the floor.

            2…

            I leaned against the kitchen counter and studied my nails. Maybe I’d paint them a light pink soon.

            3…

            I stretched and yawned lazily, completely relaxed.

            And at the fourth ring, I answered the phone calm as could be.

            “Hello, Marilyn speaking.” I purred.

            There was slight static on the other line, quickly interrupted by a voice. “Marilyn, it’s John. We spoke the other night.” I breathed a silent sigh of relief when I heard the President’s voice. For days I had been answering the phone in this manner, hoping that it would be him. Just my luck, it was always Fox or Dr. Greenson or a stupid reporter, but not this time.

            “How could I forget?” I asked with a smile, as though the president could see me through the phone.

            “I’m glad.” It sounded as though he was smiling. What a great smile he had… “I was hoping to see if you were free this weekend.”

            Was he implying what I thought he was implying? A date? Or a secret rendezvous? Obviously we couldn’t go on a date in public… But for an entire weekend?

            “Nothing I can’t cancel. Did you have something in mind?” I chewed my lip as I waited for his response.

            “I’m going to be in Palm Springs for a couple days. Jackie isn’t able to go and I’d be lonely on my own. Would you care to join me?”

            I had my palm clapped over my mouth to keep from cheering. A weekend with the president. John F. Kennedy all to myself…

            “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

            “And I could never be lonely in your company, Marilyn. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

            “That sounds wonderful. Good bye, John.” And I hung up the phone. It was time to shop.

            “Do you have this in white?” I asked a salesperson folding clothes. She glanced at the robe I held and then looked back at my face with wide eyes, recognizing who I was.

            “I’ll go check, Miss Monroe.” She rushed off, eager to please. I continued to browse clothes as I waited.

            “Here you are. The whitest white we had in stock!” The saleswoman thrust the robe in my direction. I nodded my thanks and added the robe to my shopping bag that so far only consisted of skimpy lingerie and bikinis. I felt a little uncomfortable buying such clothing in public for all to see, but John hadn’t given me much notice. I drank a glass of wine and took a pill before going to the stores to relax me. It was such a stupid thing to feel nervous about. Imagine me, Marilyn Monroe, worrying more about buying panties than spending the weekend with the most powerful man in the U.S.

            I had to remember to take my pills this weekend. It would be pretty humiliating to have a panic attack while in bed with the president.

            “Will that be all, Miss?”        

            “Yes, thank you.” I paid in cash. Seeing how much money I spent on underwear alone gave me a flashback to Mrs. Dougherty, my first ex mother-in-law. She’d have fainted at the idea of spending so much on clothes in a year, let alone a day. She always was a bit of a penny-pincher though. I hadn’t spoken to her in years…

            Back at home, I donned my new robe (so soft!), poured myself another glass of wine, put on some Frank Sinatra (I’d fallen out of touch with him, but no loss. We’d never gotten along very well in the past anyway), and began to pack a suitcase.

            The phone rang and I had to turn off the Frank Sinatra record to answer. I answered in the same fashion I’d answered my phone call from John earlier, but it was just my therapist.

            “Good evening, Marilyn. Is this a good time?”

            “It’s always a good time for you, Dr. Greenson!” I giggled, twirling the phone cord around my finger. “Except this weekend,” I remembered Palm Springs, “I’m busy this weekend.”

            “Oh, will you be out?” He sounded interested.

            “Yessir. Unless he keeps me busy indoors.” I replied, laughing gaily.

            “He? You’re going out of town with a new beau?”

            “Oh, yes. But you can’t tell anyone because it could compromise national security.” I chuckled at my joke. “And you can’t tell anyone anyway because we have a confidentiality agreement!” I made a gesture with my hands, accidentally spilling some wine on the carpet. “Woops, I’ll have to call a maid in to clean that.”

            “Marilyn, have you been drinking?” I stayed silent, studying the dark crimson splash against the white carpet. “You know you aren’t supposed to drink while on your medication. I’m sure I’ve told you this before.”

            “Hmm?” I asked, not paying attention. “Oh sure, yeah, sorry.” Greenson didn’t speak. “Is it hard to get a wine stain out of the carpet?”

            He sighed. “Listen, Marilyn. I called to let you know I’m going to be out of town for about a month. I think you could still use someone to…talk to, so I’ve hired someone, Eunice Murray, to stay with you. A live-in companion, so to speak. Is that alright with you?”

            “Sure, I love guests.” That wasn’t really true, but I’m sure the person wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.

            “Good.” Dr. Greenson sounded relieved. “He’ll stay with you starting Monday then. And you’ll be sure to pick up some extra medication since I won’t be able to prescribe you anymore while I’m out?”

            “Of course.” I’d have to do that as soon as the phone call was over. I’d have to call a cab to pick me up though.

            “Good.” He repeated. “I’ll see you in a month’s time then. Don’t forget: two pills each morning and you can talk to Eunice any time you need to. She’s a lovely lady and I’m sure you’ll like her a lot.”            It sounded like he was reassuring himself of something.

            “I’m sure I will. Buh-bye, Dr. Greenson!”

            “Good bye, Marilyn. Until next month.”

            “Until then.”