You're nobody 'til somebody kills you

Sixty-nine

We spent one more night at Marilyn’s, three guys who, three weeks ago, thought of her only as a sex symbol. Now, Marilyn’s vulnerability had turned her into someone we adored and wanted to protect.

That night, while Jerry and Danny argued over the TV like a couple of brothers, I sat in the kitchen with Marilyn.

“I talked to Kay Gable yesterday,” I said. I’d kept it from her until that moment.

“Oh, God, Eddie, what did she say?”

“Marilyn, you didn’t tell me that Kay invited you to the baby’s christening last year.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, “I forgot about that.”

“And you went?”

“Yes.”

“How did she treat you?”

“She treated me fine, Eddie,” she said, her eyes lowered.

“Then what are you worried about?”

“Well … that was in front of people. She could’ve invited me, you know, so she’d look … oh, Eddie, I want to know what she thinks inside.”

“She thinks Gable exerted himself unnecessarily in a hot desert for the length of the shoot. She thinks he went on a dangerous crash diet, lost too much weight too fast, put a strain on his heart, and died. Gable was fifty-nine, Marilyn.”

She looked down again and her shoulders slumped. “I know all that, Eddie.”

“Remember what we said about good friends, Marilyn?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“You have to learn to rely on your good friends more. And as far as I can see, Kay Gable is a good friend.”

“Really, Eddie?”

“Really. Marilyn, you’ve got to stop worrying about what people think. You need to go back to work.”

“I know,” she said. “They’re trying to kick me off this picture, replace me with Lee Remick, but Dean is fighting to keep me on.”

“Dean’s another good friend.”

She reached out and grabbed my hands.

“Right now you’re my best friend, Eddie.”

“I’m one of your friends, doll, and you’re one of mine. What a pair we make.”

I brought her hands to my lips and kissed them.

“I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you, too, kid.”