After Casey was born, I asked Chrystie if she would have lunch with me so we could talk about our intersecting lives. She agreed it was a spectacular idea and we met at the Sand Castle Restaurant, which is now the Paradise Cove Beach Café. We sat in the corner booth for five hours and talked and talked. We both wanted to clear the air and pave the way for a smooth conjoining of our families. I always wanted to include Burt and Casey in everything Bruce and I did and to make sure they felt like a part of the family Bruce and I were beginning to build. And I wanted Chrystie to feel comfortable and a part of that, too. And as it turned out, Chrystie informed me that day that she would like to remarry. She had met and begun dating a wonderful man named Richard Scott, who would become Burt and Casey’s stepfather and who essentially raised them. We had a great lunch, and I really felt like we bonded. Chrystie and I have always enjoyed a good relationship, and I love and value her presence in my life. Today we remain very much a family, jokingly calling ourselves “ex-wives-in-law.” We even have family gatherings on Thanksgiving and Christmas, most often at my house.
Things might have been messy at the start of my relationship with Bruce, but it was quickly becoming the best kind of mess I could have imagined.
“You Are My Solid Ground”
When you’re lying tenderly beside me
And I feel your breath so soft against my cheek
All my fears just disappear in darkness
And I know for sure
I could never leave
You are the strength that I’ve found to see
You lift me up when I’m down—loving me
When I never thought
That I’d feel my heart come around
You are my solid ground
I don’t need a fairy tale to save me
I’ve got all the magic I need in your arms
And I won’t ever fly away in madness
I’ll stay close enough to always feel your warmth
You are the strength that I’ve found to see
You lift me up when I’m down—loving me
When I never thought
That I’d feel my heart come around
You are my solid ground
I’m … so in love with you
You’re everything faithful and true
I know—I could touch every star
When you’re lifting me
And I’m right there where you are
You are the strength that I’ve found to see
You lift me up when I’m down—loving me
When I never thought
That I’d feel my heart come around
You are my solid ground
You are my solid ground
LYRIC: LINDA THOMPSON
Chapter Fourteen
A Model Family
With the tensions that had marked the beginning of our love safely passed, Bruce and I were able to enjoy life as we hadn’t before. Our love had been tested and we had made it through together.
In the spring of 1980, Bruce and I traveled to Australia to promote Can’t Stop the Music, a film he’d starred in with the Village People. Allan Carr had produced the movie and we became fast friends. Allan was very flamboyant, funny, creative, and generous. He insisted that on our return trip from Australia, he wanted to treat Bruce and me to a “pre-honeymoon” of four days on the gorgeous Tahitian island of Bora Bora.
Bruce and I had a relaxing, romantic time in that enchanting place. We stayed in one of those thatch-roofed, over-the-water huts, so that we could just step off of our deck into the crystal clear water and be swimming with multicolored fish in an instant. At night we lay under the stars and talked about our future and the magical quality of the universe in which we lived.
Bruce and I made quite an ideal couple in those days. We got along well and enjoyed many of the same activities, that is, once he’d taught me how to play the sports he liked. It’s fair to say that Bruce unleashed the natural athlete in me, teaching me how to Jet Ski, water-ski, snow ski, play tennis, work out regularly, and basically to lose my fear of getting my hair wet and opening my eyes underwater. Well, I might be exaggerating about the losing-my-fear part, and opening my eyes underwater. But I was glad to have such a good coach. Under his instruction, I became a pretty good tennis player. Our neighbors Linda and David Caplan had a court they let us use. They even let us have a gate put in so we could go up and use their court whenever they weren’t using it. We were also members of the Malibu Racquet Club and played there all the time.
Bruce took me to Alta, Utah, to teach me skiing on the slopes. He was so patient, and so kind. He did push (he was Bruce Jenner after all), but in a way that was very encouraging.
“Your ability exceeds your confidence level,” he always told me.
That was and wasn’t true. I had developed some ability on my skis, but I still didn’t know how to stop. One day, early on in our lessons, Bruce and I were out skiing together. I was wearing my little orange fiberfill snowsuit, just flying down the hill.
“Turn! Turn! Turn!” Bruce shouted from where he was skiing close behind me.
I don’t know how to turn, I thought.
“Slow down!” he said. “Okay, you need to stop.”
Okay, and how would one do that? I thought, fearfully examining the tree I was nearing. How would a person do that if they did want to stop before they hit that tree up ahead?
I tried to make the turn and ended up in a big snowbank by the tree. I was lucky I didn’t hurt myself, even though I ended up by the tree trunk, my skis sticking up in the air. One of the tree branches had ripped my snowsuit, so I had fiberfill coming out of it. I was a mess. I looked up, and there was Bruce, coming down the hill like the Olympic athlete he was.
Swish, swish, swish.
Perfect form.
Snow flew up in my face as he stopped right beside me.
“You okay?” he asked, looking down at my crumpled body.
“I don’t think anything is broken but my pride is terribly hurt,” I said. “Look at my snowsuit. I’ve got Bruce Jenner, the amazing athlete, teaching me to ski, and here I am, in a heap on the ground.”
He did eventually teach me to ski, and we had fun during our lessons, too. He was the kind of boyfriend who helped me into my ski boots, and he carried my skis for me, too.
“Can you carry the poles?” he’d ask.
“Of course!” I’d reply.
When we were done skiing for the day, he got down on the ground in front of me and helped me out of my boots. And then he rubbed my feet.
He was such a gentleman.
Of course, there were a few occasions when he wasn’t entirely patient with me. But it was only because he was so skilled at everything he did.
“Really? You can’t do that?” he might ask me during one of our lessons.
Really, Bruce, no one but you can do that, I’d think.
In general though, he was a phenomenal teacher. I’m just sorry that our boys didn’t get to experience that side of his personality and athleticism, because by the time they were old enough to start playing tennis and other sports, he had moved on.
Indeed, the Bruce I knew back then was unstudied, casual, and comfortable in his own skin. Or so it seemed. He seemed to excel in every sport he tried—he could have been a professional anything. Just as I had felt that Elvis could fix anything, including me, if I got broken, I felt so safe with Bruce that I never feared getting broken in the first place.
Bruce and I had talked about marriage, family, and our mutual desire to have children together; we knew we shared the same basic values in this area. Bruce was a very decent man who loved the traditional idea of home and hearth. And our relationship was naturally unfolding at a pace we both felt comfortable with. We didn’t have to fight about—or even negotiate, really—those issues that sometimes become snafus for other couples: how much time we spent together, how committed we were to each other.
Having enjoyed many hours with Elvis, discussing re
ligion and philosophy and the meaning of love and life, I definitely noticed that Bruce did not seem to engage with these topics in quite the same way. But he wasn’t an artist—he was an athlete. And as such, he seemed to be wired differently, to be less meditative and more practical, results oriented, and driven. He did speak very poignantly about all that had gone into his Olympic glory—the irrepressible drive, the years of sacrifice, the constant striving to be better and then, even better still. As well as the immeasurably sweet moment he’d stood on the winner’s platform in Montreal, living his dream of gold and basking in the glory he’d earned for himself, taking mental snapshots so he would never forget the experience.
I knew Bruce was capable of deep passion and emotion, but he was more of a doer than a thinker. This is not to say he was in any way shallow, just that he seemed to be most comfortable in motion. We didn’t spend a lot of time in the morning, planning our day, or at night, reflecting on what had happened. We simply embarked on the adventure together, and much of the communication we had was about what was happening in the moment. And how it might happen just a little bit better, as Bruce never lost his urge to improve himself.
After years of being sequestered at the Las Vegas Hilton and Graceland, I was happy to feel young and strong in my body, in the sun, on the beach, playing sports, making love, and just sharing everyday life with this beautiful man.
Although I had managed to keep our relationship platonic until after he and Chrystie were clearly finished as a couple, there had been a strong physical attraction between us from the first moment we met. At that time, Bruce was masculine, virile, and strong, no matter what internal battles might have been raging. I never got the sense he was masquerading in any way or hiding a deep secret.
Bruce did so many kind and thoughtful things for me in our years together. He was also generous, at one point buying me a Porsche 928, topped with a big red bow for Christmas. I’m not exactly a car person, but there are a few cars I’ve really responded to, and as Bruce knew, this was one of them.
That May, I turned thirty just as Bruce and I were returning from traveling to one of his appearances. When we arrived home from the airport and rounded the corner onto the deck outside our beachfront home, I suddenly encountered my mother and father, brother and sister-in-law, and several friends, including motocross racer Jimmy Weinert and his girlfriend at the time, Patty.
“Surprise!” they shouted when they saw me.
Bruce had planned a little surprise birthday for me and flown in my family. He’d hired a caterer that made paella. We had a big party right there on the beach and had a great time.
That was typical of the thoughtful things Bruce did for me. From the start, he was honorable, energetic, patient, and all around … well … just too good to be true. Yes, just too good to be true indeed! In fact, when I introduced Bruce to my good friends Kenny and Marianne Rogers, wanting their approval of my new love, Kenny spoke more prescient words than any of us could have ever realized at the time.
“Either Bruce Jenner is the nicest person in the world or the biggest phony,” he said.
At the time, of course, I just laughed at Kenny, having no way of knowing how true his observation would prove.
It was during this blissful period in our relationship that I found myself pregnant for the first time in my life. When I got the news, I fell to my knees with joy and prayed that I would be worthy to carry that precious life—to be the vessel for this new life that would enter the world. It is a feeling I’ll never forget. In that moment I felt as if anything negative that had transpired in my life, any transgression I had ever perpetrated had somehow been cleansed from my being, and that this was a new start. Above all, I was delirious with delight.
Now I just had to tell Bruce. As I’ve said, he and I had talked openly and often about marriage and children. He knew my strong desire to be a mother and believed I would be a great mom. If he had been somewhat reserved about Chrystie’s second pregnancy, it was because of where they were at as a couple, not because he had any resistance to being a father again. In fact, he looked forward to having more kids.
However, his divorce was not yet final, so our timing could have been a bit tidier. But I was confident that Bruce would share my sheer and utter joy at the news—he and I were going to have a baby together.
When were alone together later that day, I couldn’t contain my excitement and happiness any longer. I wanted to share our blessing with him. I had been living near the Mormon temple in West L.A., but I had recently moved in with Bruce to a small apartment on Las Flores Beach in Malibu. As we sat on the little love seat in our apartment looking out over the blue Pacific, I said, “I have something to tell you. I’m pregnant!”
“You are? That’s great! I’m thrilled,” he said, his trademark enthusiasm instantly going full throttle. “I’m so excited. Let’s get married then.”
“Okay,” I said. “We have to work that out, though, because you’re still technically, legally married.”
So the only negative in the situation was that his divorce could not be finalized until December of that same year. So we would have to wait a few months to get married the following January. Bruce was very loving and reassuring that everything would happen in its appropriate time, and said he was very much looking forward to being a dad again. With Burt and Casey already a joyous addition to our lives, we were going to be the proud parents of three little Jenners.
Not long after I’d given Bruce my baby news in the fall of 1980, we went to pick out my engagement ring. I have always loved estate pieces, and the ring we found was antique from the 1920s. There were three diamonds, two carats each, set in filigree platinum, rather than the customary single-diamond engagement ring configuration.
“You, me, and baby makes three!” I declared, pointing to the three diamonds.
A few days later, Bruce asked me to climb into our Jeep with him, and he drove me up to a beautiful, barren plateau in Malibu accessible only by a dirt road. As the sun set over the ocean, he got down on one knee and pulled out my ring.
“As we look out over Malibu and watch this beautiful sunset together, I’d like to ask you—will you marry me?” he said.
It was a sweet and romantic moment from which to launch our life together.
Bruce and I were married January 5, 1981, when I was just entering my fifth month of pregnancy with our first son, Brandon. We were married at the beautiful home of Allan Carr on the Hawaiian island of Oahu. There were only about thirty-five people in attendance, including our parents. Bruce’s son, Burt, served as best man—even though he was only two years old and was constantly interrupting our nuptials with “I want up.” It was touching and lent a warm, familial mood to the ceremony. My beloved nieces, Jennifer and Amy Thompson, served as flower girls. It really was quite an exquisitely beautiful wedding. We said our “I dos” at 6 P.M., just as the sun was setting over the placid blue Pacific.
A few months before our wedding, Bruce and I had met the actor Lee Majors. Even though we had not known Lee for very long and only shared a few social dinners with him, he insisted on paying for our wedding. Bruce and I could not believe such a generous and kind gesture. Lee had been heartbroken over Farrah Fawcett’s leaving him for Ryan O’Neal in 1979, and he seemed to find comfort in friends at that time. He was, and is, an exceptionally nice man.
I had designed my wedding gown and had it custom made. The gown was off the shoulder with panels of free-flowing vintage cream-colored lace that blew in the tropical breeze. I felt more than a little like Mother Nature herself, with a baby blooming in my belly. Bruce was beyond handsome in his casual suit and was very happy to be celebrating our union, set in paradise and shared with family and a few close friends. Jeannie LeMay, who had been my roommate in the Miss USA pageant, was in attendance with her boyfriend, as well as Bruce’s sisters, Pam and Lisa, and brother-in-law, Billy; my brother, Sam, and his wife, Louise, who is my best friend and was my matron of honor.
Br
uce was a very secure man, because the music I chose to have playing as I walked down the aisle was Elvis Presley’s “Hawaiian Wedding Song.” It had always been my dream to get married in Hawaii. It was a dream that had been spawned by Elvis’s movie Blue Hawaii, which I’d watched over and over as a little girl, and every time I saw it I thought how romantic it would be to get married in that tropical paradise. To Bruce’s credit, he went along with my fairy-tale plans for a cinematically inspired wedding at the base of Diamond Head crater on Honolulu’s Waikiki Beach, in Allan Carr’s Japanese garden at sunset. Only Elvis was missing from my proverbial fairy tale. Still, I had found a new Prince Charming.
When we returned from our wedding trip, we resumed our life by the sea in Southern California, walking on the beach every morning with our coffee, Jet Skiing, playing tennis, or just enjoying each other and many other activities. We lived a pretty idyllic life. He’d take me out sailing on our Hobie Cat, with me flying out on the trapeze, literally hanging out over the ocean. Bruce would sometimes dip the boat down so my butt hit the water, startling me each time.
He knew I was not a great swimmer, and a little more timid than he was, prone to panic, even. He knew me well enough to know and respect my limits, especially during my pregnancy. He didn’t want to discourage me from participating in a sport by flipping the boat purposefully, or making me more frightened than necessary. And so I really did trust him, and it was a lot of fun.
Our place had two bedrooms. Sometimes we slept in the bedroom that was right on the water. When the tide came up, I’d lie in bed and watch the waves rise above the deck and kiss the sliding glass door. And then, behind the house, I’d hear the rockslides cascading down toward the beach. It occurred to me that the ocean and the mountains were having a love affair. We were separating them, and they didn’t like it much. It was such a romantic time for me that even the elements seemed to be in love. Listening to Bruce sleep beside me, feeling the strength and health exuding from every cell of his body, it was hard not to marvel at how different my life was now, and to feel very happy and lucky to have gotten myself to this moment. I’d drift off to sleep, feeling content, and safe, and very much where I was supposed to be.
A Little Thing Called Life Page 24