The Secret Life of Marilyn Monroe

A Reunion with Berniece

At the end of June 1961, Marilyn was diagnosed with gallstones and an inflamed gallbladder. There seemed no end to the physical and emotional crises she was facing at this time. The operation on June 29 was successful. Joe DiMaggio was at her bedside when she awakened, looking down at her with devotion. It was decided that her half sister, Berniece, would come to New York and be present for Marilyn’s recovery. Joe wasn’t particularly happy about it, though. Marilyn would later learn that he was very suspicious of Berniece and her husband. “What if they want money from you?” he asked Marilyn. “I think that’s what’s going on here.” His suspicion was shared by Marilyn’s secretary, May Reis, who was now back on the job with Marilyn. Marilyn couldn’t believe Joe would think such a thing about Berniece. “I’ve known her a lot longer than you,” she told him angrily. “And besides, if she did want my money, she can have it. What am I going to do with it when I’m gone?”

Despite Joe’s ambivalence about Berniece, Marilyn seemed almost desperate to reconnect with her after her gallbladder operation. Therefore, as soon as Marilyn was released from the hospital, Berniece flew to New York from Florida and checked into the Park Sheraton Hotel, where she was to await a phone call from May. When told the coast was clear of reporters, Berniece was to take a cab to Marilyn’s apartment on East 57th Street. Berniece’s husband had been against the visit. He was always very strange when it came to the subject of Marilyn. He wanted to be around her as much as possible—thus his recent trip to see her behind his wife’s back—but didn’t seem to want Berniece to have time with her. For his part, Joe was also unhappy about the sisterly plans—for his own reasons, having to do with Marilyn’s money, but also because he was afraid that Berniece might go to the press with details about his and Marilyn’s life together. Berniece knew better, of course. Still, it had to bother her that, after all of this time, Marilyn kept reminding her not to talk to the press. It didn’t escape Berniece that Marilyn still concluded every telephone conversation with that very warning.

When Berniece arrived at Marilyn’s thirteenth-floor apartment, she was greeted by May Reis. May could not have been more chilly. However, it would seem that Berniece took her aloof attitude to be professional rather than rude. When Marilyn appeared, the reunion was noisy and exciting. “I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Marilyn squealed. “Finally! We’re together again!” After embracing, they stood back and took a long look at each other. They’d known each other since they were young women. Now Marilyn was thirty-five and Berniece forty-one. However, both agreed that they’d only gotten better with age, even though Marilyn was clearly weak from the surgery and not at all well. She was wearing a cream-colored summer dress and high-heeled sandals. She’d had her hair styled before leaving the hospital because she knew she’d be photographed on her way out and wanted to look her best. So when she saw her half sister, she looked very put together.

Marilyn’s life was anything but ordinary, and Berniece must have gleaned as much when she learned that the first order of business every day for Marilyn’s maid, Lena Pepitone, was to hand wash the beige lace bra Marilyn had worn the previous day. When recalling this visit, Pepitone had an interesting observation about Berniece—whom she described as being “blonde, even blonder naturally than Marilyn… slightly shorter and thinner, yet her figure was definitely on the voluptuous side”:

“In a way, Berniece seemed far shyer than Marilyn, who was now in an outgoing phase. All the hustle and glitter of Manhattan seemed to scare Berniece. She seemed in a daze, caused by New York as well as Marilyn.… Yet the way Marilyn sat at attention holding Berniece’s hand and listening to every detail about where Berniece shopped in Florida, what she cooked, how she ran her home, and raised her sons [Note: Berniece did not have sons, just a daughter] made me think that Marilyn could easily be tempted to trade in all her fame and become a housewife, too.”

After just a few days with her, Berniece was concerned about all of the drugs Marilyn was taking. People who were around her all the time had grown accustomed to the constant pill-taking, which usually resulted in unsure footing about an hour or so later. She was never quite coherent. She always seemed a little… off. Marilyn’s friends and daily associates were used to this troubling demeanor, but newcomers were always stunned by it.

Every night, Marilyn’s doctor would come by the house to check on her. This, too, was odd. Every night? Was that really necessary? During each visit, Marilyn would fix him a stiff drink, which he enjoyed—again, odd. Then he would begin to dispense all sorts of pills to Marilyn in what could only be considered “generous” quantities. Sometimes he would give her an injection of who-knows-what, but she definitely enjoyed its effect on her. Berniece seized the opportunity, while the doctor was present, to ask him about the pills. “Truly, does she need all of these sleeping pills?” Berniece asked him. “This is extreme, don’t you think?” The doctor didn’t have time to answer before Marilyn glanced at her sharply. “Yes, I do need these pills,” she said, her temper quickly rising. “I need my sleep. So, the answer is yes, Berniece. That’s the answer. Yes.” There was an awkward silence. After a moment, the doctor continued with his offering of different pharmaceuticals without missing a beat.

Berniece also took note of Marilyn’s relationship with Joe DiMaggio. He was clearly still in love with her. However, Marilyn seemed unsure of her feelings for him. Perhaps the best indicator of how she felt was that she was planning a trip to California in less than a month and told Berniece that she was going to stay with Frank Sinatra. She made Berniece promise not to mention the trip to Joe. She intended to go, she said, and just not tell him. How she was going to manage that, considering that he was with her every single day, was a mystery to Berniece. According to Lena Pepitone, Sinatra would call Marilyn often and she would speak to him, not at all concerned that Joe might walk into the room at any moment. When it came to Sinatra, she was determined to do whatever she liked.

Also, Berniece couldn’t help but notice how paranoid Marilyn had become. For instance, at one point in the visit, an Italian restaurant that had just opened in the neighborhood sent over a complimentary meal to Marilyn. Marilyn told Lena to throw the food away. She didn’t even want it in the household. Berniece assumed that Marilyn didn’t want the food because she was watching her weight, or maybe because she’d been told that she shouldn’t eat spicy foods after her surgery. Either would have been an acceptable reason. However, Marilyn’s reasoning was more troubling. “It could be poisoned,” she told Berniece, very seriously. “I never eat anything that’s been prepared by strangers.”

Indeed, in about a month, when Marilyn was back in Los Angeles under the care of Dr. Greenson, he would write to a colleague that in her sessions with him she expressed a “feeling of mistreatment, which had paranoid undertones.”

Other friends of Marilyn felt that her paranoia, especially about food, was out of control. “Once, during a late night at the office, we sent out for Chinese food,” said Diane Stevens from John Springer’s office. “Marilyn and Joe were there. When the food came, Marilyn refused to eat it. She and Joe got into a big fight about it. ‘If it was poisoned, I’d be dead now because I just ate some,’ Joe told her. ‘So, what the hell is going on with you?’ Marilyn looked at him very seriously and said, ‘I’m the one they want to poison, Joe. Not you.’ We all sat there with our mouths open, trying to figure out how to respond. ‘But it’s all the same food,’ John finally said. Marilyn was not going to bend, though. ‘Enjoy it. See if I care,’ she said. ‘But I’m not taking a chance.’ It made me think of Gladys, I have to admit. I mean, that’s the first thing that came to my mind—Gladys believing that the doctors in her mental hospital were poisoning her food.” ^*