Love Story

Then the disagreement between America's prince

and his volatile princess appears to turn physical.

Carolyn runs up from behind and tackles him,

grabbing his neck and nearly shoving him to the ground.

Sources close to the couple say that Bessette

is prone to outbursts and mood swings,

even speculating that John John is ready to call it quits.

- Mrs. Kennedy. She's here. - Mmm.

Oh.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Kennedy.

Please, have a seat.

Come on.

Hmm.

You remind me of her, Jackie.

When I first met Jackie, it was in 1953, a few years after Bobby and I got married.

Every year we'd have these Saint Patrick's Day parties, black tie.

I used to love to push people into the pool.

Oh, geez.

Really?

Oh, anything for a scrap of attention.

I was one of six children.

I learned early on that love is a blood sport.

So, I told all the guests to wear black and then I'd show up in green.

I was never gonna be beautiful, but I could always be special.

Until Jackie.

My green dress and I didn't stand a chance.

I could've showed up naked as Eve

and nobody would've taken their eyes off of her.

Not even Bobby.

And like Jackie

you have been spared the indignity of the world's indifference.

You are noticed.

And now it's entirely up to you whether to receive this gift,

as burdensome as it may be, with grace.

Oh, Jackie certainly did.

After what happened in Dallas,

she didn't take off that pink jacket for twenty-four hours.

She said, "I want them to see what they did to Jack."

She never forgot that people would be looking at her.

And then five years later, when it was Bobby

and I was nine months pregnant with a daughter

who would never meet her father.

I was… I was in such pain,

such every… …imaginable kind of pain.

But if Jackie could face the world soaked in blood,

armored in death…

Then I could too, armored in life.

I wanted them to see what they had done to my family.

You've had a lot of loss.

Well, I've been blessed with a lot to lose.

As have you.

But you'll never be given the benefit of the doubt again,

as ugly and unfair as that is.

Oh, Carolyn, these men, they will break your heart.

They'll drive you crazy. They'll make you want to scream.

Don't.

The whole world will be watching you.

It's your choice what you want them to see.

This family means something to people.

You understand that?

I'm like the only one that understands that.

I'm the one who's trying to salvage this family's reputation.

Oh, that's what you're doing? Salvaging?

I fucked up once. I let my guard down for fifteen minutes.

What about the thirty-six years before that?

Do I get any credit for that?

Agreeing to do things like that makes you complicit in all of this.

What about that don't you understand?

Do you think I like being stalked by the national press?

This isn't my fault, Caroline.

You're the one who told me to start taking personal responsibility.

You've never been this, uh, volatile around a girlfriend before.

Yeah, well, it's been a volatile year.

Carolyn is the first person I've been with,

probably the first person I've ever met who looks at me

and sees something other than that little boy.

And she's not my girlfriend.

I, uh… I don't understand. You, uh, broke up?

She's my fiancé.

- Did you know this? - No.

Jesus, John.

If she was under 24/7 public scrutiny,

who knows what kind of shit the press would print about her and Ed, you know.

Mm-hmm.

Like, she just glides through life totally unnoticed.

She doesn't know how lucky she is.

How's the book?

Yeah, uh, comprehensive.

Mmm.

I think Caroline just meant for it to be a jumping off point,

but that point looks like a cliff.

Oh, my God, I forgot about that suit.

Oh, it's enormous. Ed, why?

He looks like David Byrne.

But also someone who's never heard of David Byrne.

All right.

Listen, forget about the book.

What do you want?

I don't know.

I never thought about my wedding.

Getting married just never seemed as romantic as being married.

Then fuck it. Let's just go to City Hall. Let's go be married.

I'm serious.

No.

No, we can't. We can't.

The press will find out.

- Plus, my mom would kill me. - Mmm.

As would your sister.

Mmm.

And I do want the people that we love to be there.

I just don't know how that's possible

without two hundred people we can barely tolerate also being there.

Did you know Bobby had twenty-one groomsmen?

And what? You want more? Thirty?

Forty? Carolyn, be reasonable.

I want like forty guests total.

So, then we'll have forty guests, total.

- And no bouquet toss. - No.

- No disposable cameras on every table. - Ugh.

- No party favors. - No.

- No bridal shower. - Who needs that?

No father-daughter dance.

In fact, I don't want my father there, period.

Period.

- No brunch. - Who needs to eat?

I think it should be someplace romantic and remote, rustic.

It should feel like we're the only two people there.

And to pull it all off,

we just have to elude every single journalist in the country.

Yeah. Should be easy enough.

Actually…

You got something for me, Kennedy?

- I might know of somewhere. - Mm-hmm. Go on.

No commercial airport, one hotel, population of like twenty people.

Keep talking.

- No paved roads. - Mm-hmm.

No town.

Just hundred-year-old oaks and wild horses on the beach.

Baby, why am I sensing a catch?

I've been there once. With an ex.

- Daryl? - Mm-mmm.

Brooke Shields?

Well, I never dated Brooke Shields. I kissed her once and her mom was there.

Sarah Jessica? Madonna?

Camille Paglia?

- No. - Wallis Simpson? Smurfette?

No. Christina. Just after college.

Where is it?

Cumberland Island, Georgia.

I can't imagine your sister on an unpaved road.

I can barely imagine her below 59th Street.

Ooh, she's gonna hate me even more than she does now.

No, she loves you.

Well, she doesn't hate you.

Yeah, she does.

We're still over.

Fuck me.

- We could lose Natalie... - Lee?

Lee?

As in your mother's sister, Lee?

She's pathologically incapable of keeping a secret.

Plus, she's furious my mom cut her out of the will.

Well, I'm not going to be the one who tells her.

Oh, there he is.

- Morning, Michael. - Hi, Mike.

Wow, quite the, uh, top secret operation you got going on here, huh?

Feels like I'm in the Situation Room.

I wouldn't know.

Can we talk, please? In private?

- Can it wait? - No.

Listen, William Morris keeps hounding me about getting a lunch on the books.

Can't get a reservation?

You know, you keep blowing this off, John.

TV. That's how Martha Stewart turned a magazine into a billion dollar empire.

Yeah, and that's great for Martha.

If we don't find additional revenue streams, we are fucked. Period.

Fine, set the meeting.

As long as everyone's clear that my involvement

in a George TV show is producing-only.

You know, you're photographed every goddamn day of your life.

What? Suddenly you're so camera shy?

Have you thought about my other proposal?

What? Publishing my wedding photos in the magazine?

Yeah.

Yeah, I thought about it long and hard, and I figured, why stop there?

Why not publish our vows?

Or pictures of Carolyn naked, getting ready?

Really get some bang for our buck.

Fucking asshole.

I love your earrings, Caroline.

- Beautiful. - Thank you.

They were mummy's, right?

Used to be.

I haven't had salad after pasta since Positano.

- Mm-hmm. - It's, uh, fun.

"You're welcome."

I'm half-Italian. I've got a nonna in Bay Ridge and everything.

Oh, my goodness.