Mrs. Nixon: A Novelist Imagines a Life by Ann Beattie Read Free Book Online Page B

“Mexico” sombrero.
    As part of her job as a saleswoman at a California department store, she modeled clothes for Walter Pidgeon and his teenage daughter. This took two and a half hours. Ms. Pidgeon exited with a new wardrobe.
    Driving an elderly couple across country to make money, and being driven crazy by the man’s constant clicking of his dentures.
    On inauguration morning, the Lyndon Johnsons arranged a little joke, or something. One can’t be sure what the Lyndon Johnsons thought. Somehow, they got the Nixon family dogs into the WhiteHouse. Julie Nixon Eisenhower narrates: “Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson [were] waiting at the top of the steps. A few feet away were our French poodle, Vicky, dressed in a new white jacket trimmed in red, white, and blue, and Pasha, our Yorkshire terrier, his thin hair pulled back from his face by a ribbon. President Johnson sentimentally had arranged for the dogs to be the first to greet us in our new home.”
    Mrs. Nixon took a trip with Lady Bird Johnson to Scotland. Since there was no advance notice, officials had to scramble to accommodate the women. As a little joke, Mrs. Nixon said that Mrs. Johnson was “the President’s sister.” Asked if anything could be provided for them, Mrs. Nixon said, “Why, yes, we would love to have tea with the Queen.” This could have backfired, but it didn’t: the Queen was away at Balmoral Castle.
    As a girl, Mrs. Nixon walked on railroad tracks.
    As a girl, Mrs. Nixon rolled and smoked cigarettes.

Moments of Mrs. Nixon’s Life I’ve Invented
    (On the theory that facts can provide only so much information, and fiction has similar limitations)
    A fter her trip to Peru, where angry citizens stormed the Nixon car, breaking windows and trying to turn it over, Mrs. Nixon began a lifelong habit of taking a bath at night. By the glow of a night-light, she poured bath beads into the water and immersed herself. She ran her hands back and forth, gently popping the bubbles. Only then would she lean back against a plastic, inflated bath pillow, eyes closed for as long as she could stand it before peeking to see if any tiny floating islands remained.
    Several photographs were given to Mrs. Nixon of herself, to decide which she thought best. H. R. Haldeman had noted: “All okay.” Mrs. Nixon was not sure why H. R. Haldeman would have been consulted. There was no note from “RN,” as her husband referred to himself. A blessing. She favored two photos. As she was debating, a vacuum started. There had been a dinner at the White House that night, and the house was still being cleaned. Mrs. Nixon, in her dressing gown, went into the corridor and asked the first Secret Service agent she saw which photograph he preferred. Startledto see the First Lady, he did not immediately respond. Several seconds elapsed before he said, simply, “Mrs. Nixon.” She did not repeat the question. Finally, he pointed to one and said, “That one gets the brightness of your eyes.” She thanked him and returned to her room. She looked at both photographs and thought her eyes equally bright in each. Why had it taken the man so long to respond? Had he simply been afraid to express a preference? Mrs. Nixon had trouble falling asleep. She wondered if the photograph the Secret Service man had rejected might not be best, after all.
    At the beach, Mrs. Nixon liked to draw sea creatures in the sand with her big toe. She was also good at drawing the chambered nautilus. She thought anyone could do a starfish. She sometimes did octopi, though they were unlikely to be in the water. She was not sure whether the Portuguese men-of-war were in the Florida waters, so she continued to outline octopi, much smaller than scale. Her husband preferred the pool. Actually, reading in a chair by the pool.
    She often hummed “Camelot.” She had loved the musical, but of course Camelot had other associations. Robert Kennedy, after his brother’s death, recited from Shakespeare, in his thick Boston