Dear Diary, it's Marilyn

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

I missed all my appointments the week after my Palm Springs trip. I even missed a few days we were supposed to film my latest movie. Well, missed isn’t quite the right word… Skipped, avoided, those are slightly more accurate terms for what I did. Of course, if you want to be specific, I actually hid in my house (honestly I never left my room) the entire week and cried. Eunice, my –well, I’m not sure what she is exactly, but she’s some sort of cross between roommate and caretaker- advised I take a couple sleeping tablets to try and sleep off my depression. She thought perhaps it was caused by stress. If only my problems could be so easily solved through sleep and relaxation. No, my problems were much closer to the heart and ego, which a certain someone had bruised terribly.

John, that confused bastard, thought his wife could hold a candle to me? What could she possibly do that I couldn’t? There was no question about charm or beauty, and I could host a dinner party as well as any other. I suppose she did give birth to his children, but if he divorced their mother, they’d get over it in no time. It’s 1962, damn it! People get divorced all the time.

So Eunice was surprised when, after five days of utter seclusion from the outside world, I left my room fully dressed and fresh as a daisy (although I couldn’t hide the bags under my eyes from the excessive crying) having popped a few uppers, and asked that she immediately call me a cab to take me to the airport.

“And where on Earth could you be going?” She asked in shock.

I slipped on a pair of heels, stumbling a little as I did so. “Our nation’s capital. I have very important things to do there.”

She raised her eyebrows, unconvinced. The frown of her wrinkles on her forehead matched the frown on her mouth. “More important than your work, I suppose?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not as though I need the money. And before you ask, no, you may not come with.”

“I just think-“

“Just get the goddamn taxi!” I snapped. It seemed to do the trick; she averted her eyes and hurried to the telephone without muttering a word.

“It’s on its way.”

I nodded and headed to the kitchen. “Would you like a drink before I go?” I offered. She seemed surprised by my sudden change of tone but accepted. I placed two coffee mugs, the only clean dishes left, on the table and poured a healthy helping of wine in both.

“Cheers!” I raised my mug before drinking. “You know,” I stifled the urge to hiccup, “this house will be awfully lonely without me. You should go visit your family for the week while I’m gone.”

Eunice put her half-empty mug down. What a slow drinker! “Yes, that’s a good idea, I think.” She nodded slowly, as if still thinking the idea over. That was the problem with Eunice; she was far too cautious.

The cab honked outside. “I’ll see you in a week!” I rushed over to grab my bags.

“You remembered your medication, right?” Eunice followed me to the door anxiously like a mother hen.

“Of course I did.”

“And in case you make it home before I do, I’ll leave a bottle in the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. Take two a day like usual, and no more, especially if I’m not around.” She instructed.

I gave Eunice a quick hug, my excitement making up for the fact that I wasn’t terribly fond of her. “I’ll see you in a week!”

She gave one last warning before I left. “Don’t get in any trouble.”