“And I miss Dad,” I say. “Do you miss Dad?”
“Oh, God,” she says. “Every day.”
“Was he a good husband?”
She seems caught off guard. “He was a great husband, yes,” she says. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just realized I don’t know very much about your relationship. What was he like? With you?”
She starts smiling, as if she’s trying to stop herself but simply can’t. “Oh, he was very romantic. He used to buy me chocolates every single year on the third of May.”
“I thought your anniversary was in September.”
“It was,” she says, laughing. “He just always spoiled me on the third of May for some reason. He said there weren’t enough official holidays to celebrate me. He said he needed to make one up just for me.”
“That’s really cute,” I say.
Our driver pulls out onto the highway.
“And he used to write the most beautiful love letters,” she says. “Really lovely. With poems in them about how pretty he thought I was, which was silly, because I was never pretty.”
“Of course you were,” I say.
“No,” she says, her voice matter-of-fact. “I wasn’t really. But boy, did he make me feel like I was Miss America.”
I laugh. “It sounds like a pretty passionate marriage,” I say.
My mom is quiet. Then she says, “No,” patting my hand. “I don’t know if I would say passionate. We just really liked each other. It was almost as if when I met him, I met this other side of myself. Someone who understood me and made me feel safe. It wasn’t passionate, really. It was never about ripping each other’s clothes off. We just knew we could be happy together. We knew we could raise a child. We also knew it wouldn’t be easy and that our parents wouldn’t like it. But in a lot of ways, that just brought us closer. Us against the world, sort of.
“I know it’s not popular to say. I know everybody’s looking for some sexy marriage nowadays. But I was really happy with your father. I really loved having someone look out for me, having someone to look out for. Having someone to share my days with. I always found him so fascinating. All of his opinions, his talent. We could have a conversation about almost anything. For hours on end. We used to stay up late, even when you were a toddler, just talking. He was my best friend.”
“Is that why you never remarried?”
My mom considers the question. “You know, it’s funny. Talking about passion. Since we lost your dad, I’ve found passion with men, from time to time. But I’d give it all back for just a few more days with him. For just one more late-night talk. Passion never mattered very much to me. But that type of intimacy that we had? That was what I cherished.”
Maybe one day I will tell her what I know.
Maybe I never will.
Maybe I’ll put it in Evelyn’s biography, or perhaps I’ll tell Evelyn’s side of it without ever revealing who was sitting in the passenger’s seat of that car.
Maybe I’ll leave that part out completely. I think I’d be willing to lie about Evelyn’s life to protect my mother. I think I’d be willing to omit the truth from public knowledge in the interest of the happiness and sanity of a person I love dearly.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I just know that I will be guided by what I believe to be best for my mother. And if it comes at the expense of honesty, if it takes a small chunk out of my integrity, I’m OK with that. Perfectly, stunningly OK.
“I think I was just very fortunate to find a companion like your father,” my mom says. “To find that kind of soul mate.”
When you dig just the tiniest bit beneath the surface, everyone’s love life is original and interesting and nuanced and defies any easy definition.
And maybe one day I’ll find someone I love the way Evelyn loved Celia. Or maybe I might just find someone I love the way my parents loved each other. Knowing to look for it, knowing there are all different types of great loves out there, is enough for me for now.
There’s still much I don’t know about my father. Maybe he was gay. Maybe he saw himself as straight but in love with one man. Maybe he was bisexual. Or a host of other words. But it really doesn’t matter, that’s the thing.
He loved me.
And he loved my mom.
And nothing I could learn about him now changes that. Any of it.
The driver drops us off in front of my stoop, and I grab my mother’s bag. The two of us head inside.
My mom offers to make me her famous corn chowder for dinner but, seeing that I have almost nothing in the refrigerator, agrees that ordering pizza might be best.
When the food comes, she asks if I want to watch an Evelyn Hugo movie, and I almost laugh before realizing she’s serious.
“I’ve had the itch to watch All for Us ever since you told me you were interviewing her,” my mom says.
“I don’t know,” I say, not wanting to have anything to do with Evelyn but also hoping that my mom will talk me into it, because I know that on some level, I’m not yet ready to truly say good-bye.
“C’mon,” she says. “For me.”
The movie starts, and I marvel at how dynamic Evelyn is on-screen, how it is impossible to look at anything but her when she’s there.
After a few minutes, I feel the pressing urge to get up and put on my shoes and knock down her door and talk her out of it.
But I repress it. I let her be. I respect her wishes.
I close my eyes and fall asleep to the sound of Evelyn’s voice.
I don’t know when exactly it happens—I suspect I made sense of things when I was dreaming—but when I wake up in the morning, I realize that even though it is too early yet, I will, one day, forgive her.
NEW YORK TRIBUNE
Evelyn Hugo, Legendary Film Siren, Has Died
BY PRIYA AMRIT
MARCH 26, 2017
* * *
Evelyn Hugo died Friday evening at the age of 79. Initial reports are not naming a cause of death, but multiple sources claim that it’s being ruled an accidental overdose, as it appears that contradicting prescribed drugs were found in Hugo’s system. Reports that the star was battling the early stages of breast cancer at the time of her death have not been confirmed.
The actress is to be buried at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Los Angeles.
A style icon of the ’50s, turned sexpot in the ’60s and ’70s and Oscar winner in the ’80s, Hugo made a name for herself with her voluptuous figure, her daring film roles, and her tumultuous love life. She was married seven times and outlived all of her husbands.
After retiring from acting, Hugo donated a great deal of time and money to organizations such as battered women shelters, LGBTQ+ communities, and cancer research. It was just recently announced that Christie’s has taken in 12 of her most famous gowns to auction off for the American Breast Cancer Foundation. That auction, already sure to raise millions, will now, no doubt, see soaring bids.
It comes as little surprise that Hugo’s will has bequeathed the majority of her estate, save for generous gifts to those who worked for her, to charity. The largest recipient appears to be GLAAD.
“I’ve been given so much in this life,” Hugo said last year in a speech to the Human Rights Campaign. “But I’ve had to fight tooth and nail for it. If I can one day leave this world a little bit safer and a little bit easier for those who come after me . . . well, that just might make it all worth it.”
VIVANT
Evelyn and Me
JUNE 2017
BY MONIQUE GRANT
* * *
When Evelyn Hugo, legendary actress, producer, and philanthropist, died earlier this year, she and I were in the process of writing her memoirs.
To say that spending the last couple of weeks of Evelyn’s life with her was an honor would be both an understatement and, to be frank, somewhat misleading.
Evelyn was a very complex woman, and my time with her was just as complicated as her image, her life
, and her legend. To this day, I wrestle with who Evelyn was and the impact she had on me. Some days I find myself convinced that I admire her more than anyone I’ve ever met, and others days I think of her as a liar and a cheat.
I think Evelyn would be rather content with that, actually. She was no longer interested in pure adoration or salacious scandal. Her primary focus was on the truth.
Having gone over our transcripts hundreds of times, having replayed every moment of our days together in my head, I think it’s fair to say that I might just know Evelyn even better than I know myself. And I know that what Evelyn would want to reveal in these pages, along with the stunning photos taken just hours before her death, is one very surprising but beautifully true thing.
And that is this: Evelyn Hugo was bisexual and spent the majority of her life madly in love with fellow actress Celia St. James.
She wanted you to know this because she loved Celia in a way that was in turns breathtaking and heartbreaking.
She wanted you to know this because loving Celia St. James was perhaps her greatest political act.
She wanted you to know this because over the course of her life, she became aware of her responsibility to others in the LGBTQ+ community to be visible, to be seen.
But more than anything, she wanted you to know this because it was the very core of herself, the most honest and real thing about her.
And at the end of her life, she was finally ready to be real.
So I’m going to show you the real Evelyn.
What follows is an excerpt from my forthcoming biography, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, to be published next year.
I have settled on that title because I once asked her if she was embarrassed about having been married so many times.
I said, “Doesn’t it bother you? That your husbands have become such a headline story, so often mentioned, that they have nearly eclipsed your work and yourself? That all anyone talks about when they talk about you are the seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo?”
And her answer was quintessential Evelyn.
“No,” she told me. “Because they are just husbands. I am Evelyn Hugo. And anyway, I think once people know the truth, they will be much more interested in my wife.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is a testament to the grace, faith, and aplomb of my editor, Sarah Cantin, that when I told her I wanted to do something completely different that hinged on the reader believing a woman had been married seven times, she said, “Go for it.” Within the safety of that trust, I felt free to create Evelyn Hugo. Sarah, it is with my most sincere thanks that I acknowledge how lucky I am to have you as my editor.
Big, big thanks must also go to Carly Watters for all that she has done for my career. I feel fortunate to continue working with you on so many books together.
To my incomparable rep team: You all are so good at your jobs and seem to do them with such passion that I feel as if I’m armed at all sides. Theresa Park, thank you for coming aboard and hitting the ground running with a strength and elegance that is truly unmatched. With you at the helm, I feel incredibly confident I can reach new heights. Brad Mendelsohn, thank you for running the show with such a strong belief in me and for dealing with the intricate details of my neurosis with such warmth. Sylvie Rabineau and Jill Gillett, your intelligence and skill are perhaps only outshone by your compassion.
To Ashley Kruythoff, Krista Shipp, Abigail Koons, Andrea Mai, Emily Sweet, Alex Greene, Blair Wilson, Vanessa Martinez, and everyone else at WME, Circle of Confusion, and Park Literary & Media, I am honestly overwhelmed at how seamlessly you all consistently deliver excellence. Special thanks for Vanessa para el español. Me salvaste la vida.
To Judith, Peter, Tory, Hillary, Albert, and everyone else at Atria who works to help my books make their way in the world, I thank you deeply.
To Crystal, Janay, Robert, and the rest of the BookSparks team, you are unstoppable, brilliant publicity machines and wonderful humans. One thousand prayer hands emojis to you and all that you do.
To all the friends who have shown up time and time again, to hear me read, to buy my books, to recommend my work to other people, and to surreptitiously put my books at the front of the store, I am forever grateful. To Kate, Courtney, Julia, and Monique, thank you for helping me write about people different from myself. It is a tall order that I take on humbly and it helps so much to have you by my side.
To the book bloggers who write and tweet and snap photos all in the effort of telling people about my work, you are the reason I can continue to do what I do. And I have to give it up to Natasha Minoso and Vilma Gonzalez for just straight killin’ it.
To the Reid and Hanes families, thank you for supporting me, for cheering the loudest, and for always being there when I need you.
To my mother, Mindy, thank you for being proud of this book and always so eager to read anything I write.
To my brother, Jake, thank you for seeing me the way I want to be seen, for understanding what I’m trying to do at such a deep level, and for keeping me sane.
To the one and only Alex Jenkins Reid: Thank you for understanding why this book was so important to me and for being so into it. But more important, thank you for being the kind of man who encourages me to shout louder, dream bigger, and take less shit. Thank you for never making me feel as if I should make myself smaller to make anyone else feel better. It brings me an absolutely unparalleled amount of pride and joy to know that our daughter is growing up with a father who will stick by her side no matter who she is, who will show her how she should expect to be treated by modeling it for her. Evelyn did not have that. I did not have that. But she will. Because of you.
And lastly, to my baby girl. You were teeny teeny tiny—I believe the size of half the period on the end of this sentence—when I started writing this book. And when I finished it, you were mere days away from making your entrance. You were with me every step of the way. I suspect it was, in no small part, you who gave me the strength to write it.
I promise that I will repay the favor by loving you unconditionally and accepting you always, so that you feel strong enough and safe enough to do anything you set your mind to. Evelyn would want that for you. She would say, “Lilah, go out there, be kind, and grab what you want out of this world with both hands.” Well, she might not have put as big an emphasis on being kind. But as your mother, I must insist.
Readers Club Guide
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
This reading group guide for The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo includes an introduction, discussion questions, and ideas for enhancing your book club. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Introduction
Aging and reclusive Hollywood movie icon Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. But when she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one in the journalism community is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now?
Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband, David, has left her, and her career has stagnated. Regardless of why Evelyn has chosen her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jump-start her career.
Summoned to Evelyn’s Upper East Side apartment, Monique listens as Evelyn unfurls her story: from making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the late ’80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way. As Evelyn’s life unfolds—revealing a ruthless ambition, an unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love—Monique begins to feel a very a real connection to the actress. But as Evelyn’s story catches up with the present, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.
Topics & Questions for Discussion
1. Each husband’s section opens with an illustr
ative moniker (for example, “Poor Ernie Diaz,” “Goddamn Don Adler,” “Agreeable Robert Jamison”). Discuss the meaning and significance of some of these descriptions. How do they set the tone for the section that follows? Did you read these characterizations as coming from Evelyn, Monique, an omniscient narrator, or someone else?
2. Of the seven husbands, who was your favorite, and why? Who surprised you the most?
3. Monique notes that hearing Evelyn Hugo’s life story has inspired her to carry herself differently than she would have before. In what ways does Monique grow over the course of the novel? Discuss whether Evelyn also changes by the end of her time with Monique, and if so, what spurs this evolution.
4. On page 147, Monique says, “I have to ‘Evelyn Hugo’ Evelyn Hugo.” What does it mean to “Evelyn Hugo”? Can you think of a time when you might be tempted to “Evelyn Hugo”?
5. Did you trust Evelyn to be a reliable narrator as you were reading? Why, or why not? Did your opinion on this change at all by the conclusion, and if so, why?
6. What role do the news, tabloid, and blog articles interspersed throughout the book serve in the narrative? What, if anything, do we learn about Evelyn’s relationship to the outside world from them?
7. At several points in the novel, such as pages 82–83 and 175–82, Evelyn tells her story through the second person, “you.” How does this kind of narration affect the reading experience? Why do you think she chooses these memories to recount in this way?
8. How do you think Evelyn’s understanding and awareness of sexuality were shaped by her relationship with Billy—the boy who works at the five-and-dime store? How does her sensibility evolve from this initial encounter? As she grows older, to what extent is Evelyn’s attitude toward sex is influenced by those around her?
