MacLaine Shirley - Lucky Me: My Life withand withoutMy Mom, Shirley MacLaine

Lucky Me

My Life withand withoutMy Mom, Shirley MacLaine

SACHI PARKER

FREDERICK STROPPEL

GOTHAM BOOKS

GOTHAM BOOKS

Published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.); Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England; Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephens Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd); Penguin Group (Australia), 707 Collins Street, Melbourne, Victoria 3008, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd); Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi110 017, India; Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd); Penguin Books (South Africa), Rosebank Office Park, 181 Jan Smuts Avenue, Parktown North 2193, South Africa; Penguin China, B7 Jiaming Center, 27 East Third Ring Road North, Chaoyang District, Beijing 100020, China

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Published by Gotham Books, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First printing, February 2013

Copyright 2013 by Sachi Parker and Frederick Stroppel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Gotham Books and the skyscraper logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

has been applied for.

ISBN: 978-1-101-61656-7

Designed by Spring Hoteling

Insert photographs on pages copyright Getty Images/Ron Galella Ltd.; all other photos courtesy of the author.

While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers, Internet addresses, and other contact information at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

This is a work of nonfiction. However, the names and identifying characteristics of certain individuals have been changed to protect their privacy, and dialogue has been reconstructed to the best of the authors recollection.

Penguin is committed to publishing works of quality and integrity.

In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers;
however, the story, the experiences, and the words
are the authors alone.

To Arin and Frankie

Pangloss sometimes said to Candide, There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cungonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbd the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: then you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts.

Voltaire, Candide

M om, is there something going on that I dont know about?

We were driving back to Malibu. It was a spring afternoon, and we were cruising along the 405, heading up from San Diego. The year was 1982.

Mom had been quiet as usual, deep in her own thoughts. She would point out a scenic highlight here and there: Isnt that beautiful, shed say, sighing, with the matter-of-fact serenity of someone who had seen the world several times over and knows all its secrets.

I was thinking, too. There was something on my mind. Something concerning her and Dad. It had been in the back of my head for a long time, much longer than I ever knew, and now suddenly it had rushed forward with startling urgency.

Why I was thinking about the subject at this particular moment, I couldnt say. My life had just come to another one of its dead-end moments: a relationship gone bad, a possible future cut short, everything in turnaround. The new love of my life had turned out to be a disappointment. In fact, he had turned out to be something of a sociopath.

And Mom had driven down the coast to rescue me.

That hadnt been the original plan: Id invited her down to San Diego ostensibly for the purpose of sharing the exciting news about my engagement to this marvelous man. Privately, however, I knew he wasnt so marvelous. In fact, I knew I was making a big mistake, and I didnt have the strength to walk away from it without help.

Mom, who could spot a bullshit situation a mile away, was just the hero I needed. She stepped into the motel room, sized up my unsavory fianc in an instant, and said, Lets get the hell out of here.

So we were on our way back home. It was a two-hour drive up the coast to Malibu, which gave me ample time to ponder the often ridiculously bad decisions I had made in my sputtering romantic life. Over the years, I seemed to have developed this pronounced habit of seeking out, or being sought by, men of a distinctly ugly character. These were not merely the stereotypical selfish boors you saw in sit-coms and beer commercials; no, they were profoundly deceptive, manipulative, and immoral men who would drag me headlong into a series of emotionally damaging, physically compromising relationships. Why was this always happening to me? What had plunged me into this smart woman, foolish choices cycle of masochism?

Maybe it was all this dwelling on the dark complexity of relationships that brought me around to my big question: Mom, is there something going on that I dont know about?

She looked over at me with a quizzical look, an indulgent smile. What do you mean?

I mean, between you and Dad.

She frowned slightly. The subject didnt appeal to her. It wasnt that she didnt want to talk about Dad; she just couldnt see how he mattered in any present equation.

Nothings going on. Were fine.

I dont mean right now. I meanWell, you know, hes in Japan, and youre here, and you never see each other They had been living apart for almost thirty years now, on opposite sides of the ocean.

And that was fine with Mom. Its an excellent arrangement. I recommend it for any marriage. Now, I dont want to suggest that Mom had any hostile feelings toward Dad. She loved him, more than anyone or anything, but she didnt need him by her side every day. Once or twice a year was more than enough.

No, butI feel like theres something going on, something that you and Dad havent told me, and its something really important.