Years ago, during the Senate campaign, when Jackie was pregnant with Caroline, he was leaving to board a plane. He remembers that day without remembering where he was going. Jackie walked him to the door of the Hyannis airport. She said his name. He turned to her. “What?” His voice impatient. She didn’t answer, or if she did, he can only remember how she scanned his face, like she was looking for some way into him. Her eyes dropped, she looked away.
—
He hates the sense of “without her” in the house. It fills him with an odd dread.
—
When did she leave? he wonders. When did that door inside her close? When did she vanish, standing right in front of him, the children turning somersaults on the rug as she called them to come brush their teeth, get their shoes tied?
—
All of this was happening. Years of his life transpired, while part of her, he understands now, was absent all along.
—
He looks down at the unfinished letter to Mary Meyer. He puts it away in the drawer.
—
That night, he calls Caroline. She and John are in Newport with Janet.
“I’ll be there soon, sweetheart. How’s your brother?”
“He misses you.”
“And you?”
“I understand.” She says this in her grown-up voice, which makes him smile.
“Is the water still warm enough to swim?” he asks.
“I jumped in, but it might be too cold for you.”
“Never. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”
“When?”
“This weekend.”
“Not until then?”
“That’s Friday.”
“Well, Friday is soon.”
On the phone table, there’s a homemade pink valentine she made for him, a cardboard backing to keep it upright.
“In your opinion, what will the American press do with this?” Onassis asks.
We are somewhere off the coast of Crete. It’s late. Most of the others have peeled off to bed. The three of us sit near the pool. Lee has moved closer to Onassis now that the others are gone, her hand on the edge of his thigh.
“What will the press do with what?” I say.
“Your trip here.”
“The usual things, I assume. Where we went, what we ate, who we met, what I wore. They might be kinder this time.”
Lee breaks in. “Because of the baby—”