JFK Jr.にとってビッグマザーがめちゃくちゃ気を遣う偉大な存在だったのはわかるけど、キャロリンとレストランにデートに来たらジャッキーが食事をしていたので裏口から逃げた、ってひどいと思う。それだけで別れる理由として十分。(しかもジャッキーは気づいていて「あの子は私が盲目だとでも思ってるのか」と言ってたらしい笑)
Carolyn, with her older twin sisters, Lisa and Lauren, had set the kitchen table with a bright multicolored tablecloth, perfect for the cake—lemon, Carolyn’s favorite. Surrounding the table were boxes upon boxes that Ann, the girls' mother, was still sealing as she found the candles and located the ice cream.
I remember her sisters smiling at us and helping us with snacks. Carolyn would make the most unusual flavor creations and insist I try them, too. One day we had cheese and crackers, and she held one aloft, adding a sprinkling of McCormick's lemon and pepper seasoning on top, one of her stranger concoctions. Or at least I thought it was strange until I tried it. It was too good.
High schoolers convened and shopped on Greenwich Avenue, at D.W. Rogers, a clothing store that helped bring your bags to your car; bought candy and greeting cards at Mads; and grabbed burgers and milkshakes at Neilsen's Ice Cream. Especially popular, though, was the beach at Tod's Point. The freedom to walk the avenue and meet with friends at the beach was exhilarating.
"We all got sodas and junk food from the concession stand, and by spring, it turned into proper beach days," Giorgi recalled. "Someone always blasted music from their car, usually classic rock. It was a sweet, innocent time."
Carolyn and Dana Gallo pushed their single beds together in their dorm room, laughing and longing as they ate Pepperidge Farm coconut layer cake straight from the box, sometimes barely defrosted.
(中略)
Many months and many cakes later—red velvet, chocolate, pineapple upside-down—the girls’ friendship was firmly cemented.
Sometimes the eyebrow was half humor and half threat. Noonan, in his book Forever Young: My Friendship with John F. Kennedy, Jr., recalled that once, while she was about to dig into a slice of pizza, Carolyn heard a colleague berating Narciso Rodriguez, a new young designer for the women's collection, from behind one of the screens during a fitting. Carolyn stepped into the area of the scuffle. She looked at the pizza in her hand. She looked at the face of Narciso's attacker. She looked at pizza. Then, raising that right eyebrow, looked back at the attacker. Did this person want to stop berating her dear friend, or did she want this piece of piping-hot, dripping cheese pizza on her face? The colleague fled the scene and thereafter treated Narciso with due respect.
The guests sat "eating intentionally cold smoked salmon and unintentionally cold chicken, and bidding on delightfully idiosyncratic 'jungle costumes' designed by the right sort of designers," reported the New York Times in an article titled "Don’t Bungle the Benefit."
Carolyn's office hours were long and hard—she would often forget to eat lunch, though when she did remember, her favorite foods were mashed potatoes and scooped-out bagels loaded with tomatoes. But after work, she went out with her cadre of friends, sometimes grabbing dim sum at Jing Fong on Elizabeth Street, sometimes catching a movie.
Carolyn and John cut the cake, frosted with vanilla buttercream and adorned with flowers, her hair now released from its bun and falling into her face in a tousled mass.
They eventually stopped at a small roadside café, and I got a few beautiful shots of them having coffee and Turkish pastry at an outdoor table.
We stop at Bloomingdale's and give each other makeovers at the MAC counter. We order sticky rolls at Cinnabon.
"We went for ice cream at Four Seas; she always liked butter pecan, which wasn't my flavor of choice," Ariel said, laughing.
As she blew out the candles on the buttercream-frosted cake, John asked her what she wished, and Carolyn said, "All I want for my birthday is to know you'll always be around."
"When Effie didn't cook—and usually he did—Carolyn had one recipe, roast chicken with lemon and garlic. If it wasn’t one of those two then they ordered in, sometimes even from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
John was very quiet at dinner that night. Efigenio had prepared swordfish. But a different menu was prepared for Rob Littell.
"I was served my usual big, luscious burned burger and noticed Carolyn, who was sitting to my right, eyeing it greedily,” Littell wrote in his memoir. “I moved it to the left side of my plate. But as soon as I looked away, she grabbed it and took a big bite. Secretly pleased to have another culinary misfit on the island, I offered her the rest. But no, she handed it back to me and called out politely to Efigenio. I rarely saw Carolyn ask for anything, but that night, she said, 'Effie, would you mind making me one of those delicious hamburgers?' Efigenio, surprsed but amused, replied, 'Of course not, how would you like it cooked?' 'Rare,' said Carolyn. 'Bloody. Please.' I'm proud to say that on our next visit, a month later, Carolyn had dispensed with the gourmet menu entirely and was subsisting on pink burgers each night. She wolfed them down with the appetite of a linebacker."
"Frannie, it’s Carolyn. Which Cheerios does Colette [Rob and Frannie’s daughter] eat, regular or Honey Nut? Will Rob eat steak?"
"The plan," Carole wrote, "was grilled steaks and peach pie."
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"Carolyn was not afraid to say no to John, or to get him angry," Carole Radziwill said. "And he needed that."
Carolyn was a big reader; there was always something literary on her desk, be it Charlotte Brontë or intellectual tomes on Henry James.