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Cary Grant and His BridesFacebooktwittergoogle_pluslinkedinmail

Smiling as she approaches, a lovely lady says, “Cary, so nice to see you.”

“Forgive me, Virginia, but I’m not sure I can say the same.”

“I could be unpleasant, too.”

“Because you left me just before I became a star and probably always regretted it.”

“In fact, Cary, I always regretted your being so possessive and jealous and following me around.”

“I apologize for not being as appealing off screen.”

“I accept. Look who’s coming.”

“What’s this, a convention?” he says.

Virginia waves a soft goodbye, and to a slender woman with beautiful sad eyes he says, “Barbara, don’t ask me to dine with you this evening or any other.”

“I’d hardly do that, Cary.”

“I know your society friends would be there.”

“The ones you so often avoided at my dinner parties, pouting in the bedroom upstairs.”

“They were boring, like you, nothing to do but play tennis and shop during the day and dine and gossip at night.”

“Your behavior insulted them.”

“After getting up before dawn and spending long hours on the damn movie set I needed rest, not chit chat.”

“That’s why I left.”

“Better for both of us.”

Barbara walks away, typically grim, and a slim tomboyish lady approaches.

“I hope no one’s filming this,” he says. “It would be in such poor taste.”

“I doubt anyone is, but one can’t be sure,” says Betsy.

“I suppose I should thank you for being my first wife who believed I didn’t also like men.”

“We screwed too much for me to feel otherwise. But you didn’t love me.”

“I wish I had.”

“You didn’t care I left.”

“I suppose not, but I always appreciated you took me to the doctor who introduced me to LSD.”

“Those kaleidoscopic trips were necessary to rebuild my ego after you loved Sophia on location. And after she rejected you, you needed emotional transformation, too.”

“LSD should’ve helped Dyan, but she wouldn’t let it,” he says.

“She was too young for you.”

“Only by thirty-three years. You’re almost twenty my junior.”

“You tried to mold her into your perfect little plaything.”

“It’s insulting you presume to know such things.”

“I’ve read her book about you.”

“Everyone’s got a book or interview that’s primarily fiction.”

“You’re saying you didn’t pressure her to take LSD and continue doing so even when she complained how nervous and unhappy the drug made her?”

“It would’ve enhanced her spiritual growth.”

“She needed to determine her own way to mature, and certainly didn’t need you telling her how to wear makeup and fix her hair. She was a beautiful girl.”

“Wonder what she’s like now. And my daughter, Jennifer, who gave me twenty years of joy. And Barbara, my final and most loving wife.”

“I bet they’re doing well.”

“I hope they remember me.”

“Come on. You’re Cary Grant.”

“Not really.”

“Closest I’ve seen.”

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This entry was posted in Barbara Hutton, Cary Grant, Divorce, Dyan Cannon, Movies, Sophia Loren.