What remains : a memoir of fate, friendship, and love by Radziwill Carole

Author:Radziwill, Carole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Radziwill, Carole, Radziwill, Anthony, 1959-1999, Kennedy, John F. (John Fitzgerald), 1960-1999, Kennedy, Carolyn Bessette, 1966-1999, Television journalists
Publisher: New York ; London : Scribner
Published: 2005-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

friends, I thought. But our relationship stayed superficial in a way I never quite understood. But Anthony adored her. They had fun together, laughing at a long-running joke between the two of them that I was never going to get,

I am an outsider here but a quiet one. I watch and adapt, but not Carolyn, I can see. She walks into this guarded room radiant and stubbornly original. Impulsively affectionate.

She sees me immediately and smiles big. It's been two years, but we pick up as though our conversation had just been momentarily interrupted. Oh, now where were we? We skip all the formalities and plunge right back in.

We have been out of the hospital for six days, and though Anthony limps, no one mentions it. So the party is happy. Thanksgiving is the following week, and "Mummy," he says, "has invited us for the weekend. I said we'd go." She and Herbert are at their house in East Hampton and I wince. To me Long Island, even, is too far to go now, so soon. It is subtle, this struggle of ours. Anthony always pushing, me pulling back. Me wanting to stay home, to recuperate, to be close to doctors, and him on to the next trip.

"Pack a good outfit," he says, distracted. "There's a dinner one night with one of her friends." A clue that I miss. We are strictly casual at his mother's in winter—jeans and sneakers. Then a car service shows up at the apartment, and it's the second clue I miss. I'm pouting a little and feeling bullied. I fall asleep in the car, and when it stops, we're at Kennedy Airport. "We're going to Paris, Nut," Anthony says and hands me my passport. He climbs out of the car with his cane, wearing a sly grin. I got you.

He can't walk well, but he's defying the doctors, the ones who said. No travel for six weel^ and f(eep your leg elevated as much as possible. We are on our way to Paris just ten days later. Our good friends Glenn and Eva live there, and Anthony plans this scheme to spend the holiday with them.

We stay in an apartment owned by Anthony's aunt. Countess Isabelle D'ornano, on the Seine. She has two apartments in Paris and

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