Child Bride (68 page)

Lisa’s ill-founded marriage to Michael came tumbling down within six months of the Diane Sawyer interview, when Lisa filed for divorce in January of 1995. The inside word was that, before the marriage, Michael had promised Lisa a recording contract with his company and had later reneged. “That’s what he might have been promising her,” commented Myrna, who had disapproved of the marriage from the outset, “but that might not have been his intention.” Lisa, she revealed, was devastated by the experience. Both Myrna and Brett believed Michael did not want the competition from his wife. “He’s very much top of the pile in his world, and that’s probably one reason Lisa filed for divorce,” said Brett. “And the things that she asked for from Michael
he wasn’t willing to do.” Priscilla’s response when she heard that Lisa had filed for divorce, said Rick Stanley, who happened to be staying at her house at the time, was, “Praise the Lord!” Marco said simply, “The mole has been removed.”

Lisa had discovered the reality of her sham marriage to Michael even as she was being interviewed by Diane Sawyer in May of 1995. That July she was at a housewarming party in Los Feliz for her ex-husband, Danny, eyeing him possessively as he danced with other women. Lisa and Danny continued to vacation together in Hawaii throughout her marriage to Michael and afterward, patterning their relationship, said Priscilla, on “my relationship with her dad. They are very good friends. [Danny’s] around a lot. He’s always around the children, which is great.” Myrna felt that Lisa would eventually reconcile with Danny, possibly even remarry him.

Lisa followed her mother’s example as a new divorcée, springing from marriage into a concentrated effort to launch a show business career. She signed with Priscilla’s longtime agent, Norman Brokaw of William Morris, and toyed with modeling, as her mother had, appearing on the cover of
Vogue
in April 1996 and becoming the image of Versace, just as Priscilla had once endorsed Wella Balsam.

There was, Rick Stanley would observe, a keen and ever-so-delicate competition between mother and daughter, exacerbated by Priscilla’s milestone birthday on May 24, 1995. Priscilla, the perpetual child-woman, had a psychologically difficult time turning fifty. That “really did a number,” said Rick. “And she’s in a part of the country where the physical is it. She’s going through a really, really tough time. She’s in a tough spot.” It was Priscilla’s jealousy of Lisa, in Rick’s analysis, that caused her to discourage Lisa’s singing and acting career, for Priscilla wanted, as she had with Elvis, to be the center of attention herself. “There is a rift between her and her daughter. I mean, it’s
there.
There’s a jockeying for position between those two.”

Priscilla continued her self-promotion and marketing frenzy into her fifties, with Indian Summer perfume and a new line of skin-care products she began developing, in her customary methodical way. A new woman’s clothing line was discussed for the Home Shopping Network. There was talk of developing a situation comedy. She accepted a limited recurring role on
Melrose Place
as a glamorous Nurse Ratchit, because, she admitted, “I was informed that it was one of the hottest shows on television.
A cult show. It seemed to be something everyone was watching. I figured it was something to do that was a top show.” As Alan Landsburg, the producer of
Those Amazing Animals
, had observed of her sixteen years before, Priscilla was a woman who recognized her limitations—and exploited herself to the maximum within them. She had come to accept, by 1996, that she would not be offered and probably could not execute the sort of artistically interesting, demanding roles other actresses she admired—Isabella Rossellini, Kathleen Turner, Bette Midler—chose and excelled at. She was, as Mike Edwards had perceived during their long romance, trapped behind a mask of inhibitions. “Being crazy, letting go—I can’t do that,” Priscilla recently admitted. “I know my limitations. I’m too restrained to do this. But I admire people who can do that. They can make a fool out of themselves. I am too aware, I can’t.” Acting roles, for her, would be vehicles designed to launch her next commercial venture. Something that “keeps me out there, and from that something else becomes of it. I got a fragrance because of
Dallas.
You know, it’s the benefits I get from acting, actually.”

Priscilla made an effort to stretch as an actress in the spring of 1997 on
Touched by an Angel.
It was a role she considered the most dramatic of her career—a doctor forced by circumstance to deliver her husband’s mistress’s baby. She also continued to maximize her position as the Presley executrix, signing on as executive producer in
The Road to Graceland
, a feature film about a man who fantasizes himself to be Elvis Presley. She announced late in 1995, semiprivately, her intention to eventually dedicate herself to the cause of child abuse. True to her nature, she first planned to research the subject matter. “I have to wait until I have some credibility and learn my stuff so people won’t question my involvement.”

Priscilla had seemingly found, in Marco, her ideal mate, although she still expressed reservations, in private. By 1996, Marco had mostly abandoned his long-frustrated attempts to establish a career as a director, producer, or writer and had started a computer company, working out of Priscilla’s house on Summit Drive. Priscilla, according to Myrna, in an opinion shared by others, preferred that Marco remain low-profile and devote his time and attention to her. “I think that’s why [the relationship] works.” According to Shirley Dieu’s analysis, Priscilla retained control that way, and that was her comfort zone.

The life of a wealthy woman’s lover suited Marco Garibaldi.
He amused himself with his computer business, formulating plans for his own vintage of wine, tinkering with inventions, reading books on all manner of subjects. It bothered him not at all, in Brett Strong’s assessment, that Priscilla possessed the wealth and the fame. “I think that is the magic that he’s got. He feels that Priscilla has the money and [he’s] got the time, so he helps her and she helps him, and they do their thing.”

The shadow of Elvis, which had lurked about Priscilla’s relationship with Mike Edwards, was nowhere present with Marco. His ego seemed unfazed by living with the ex-wife of the King, whom he described as “this person in a black cape.” As Brett said, “Marco decided that he is every bit the man that Elvis was and he could be a better husband.… He’s a charming fellow.

Personally I think that she is happy to have him.” Myrna agreed that Marco had “done the best for her of anyone,” perhaps because of his “strength. He knows just how far to take his strength where she won’t turn away. She can’t run over him. She treats him with respect.”

Priscilla had finally found her idealized companion: a dark, genuinely virile man with the outward machismo of Elvis Presley whose focus was, solely and exclusively, on her.

Priscilla and Marco, by the observation of Jerry, who spent time socializing with them separately and together, had “a great life. They’re
incredible
parents. They both
love
that little boy.” If Marco was not the ultimate love of Priscilla’s life, her son, Navarone, was. The only potential dilemma in the Priscilla-Marco relationship, and it was a large one, centered on Scientology, for Marco was not a Scientologist and would never become one, he said staunchly. “I don’t go for organizations,” he stated. “And they know I know too much about them.” When Priscilla’s Scientology friends came by the house on Summit and asked Marco to sit with them, he would “politely decline” and leave the room, though, stated Priscilla, “he doesn’t mind me being in Scientology. He supports me very much and doesn’t have any qualms whatsoever, so that doesn’t conflict.” Priscilla, deferring to Marco, did not enroll Navarone in Scientology courses as a child, as she did Lisa. “We teach him morals, we teach him ethics, we teach him values. We don’t feel that we have to send him to a church. He gets that from Marco and me.” When he turned fifteen, said Priscilla, Navarone would be able to choose for himself. “But I decided when Navarone gets around fifteen, it would probably be a good time to put him in
Scientology, once I introduce him to certain theories.” Marco told a friend, in private conversation, that “he would take Navarone out of the country if that happened.”

Priscilla, in her early fifties, had come close to reclaiming her lost life. She had submerged, sublimated, and suppressed the person inside her and played the role necessary to realize the obsessive dream she fantasized for herself as a child: to marry Elvis Presley. Yet a part of her identity remained in subjugation to someone else, for she was still Priscilla
Presley
.

This issue would dangle continuously throughout her three serious post-Elvis relationships—with Mike Stone, Mike Edwards, and Marco Garibaldi—as she contemplated whether to marry each man. The question became acute with Marco, for she had his child, a son she adored, and Priscilla was not the sort of woman, by nature, to choose living with a man over marriage. She justified her single status with various rationalizations: that marriage implied ownership, that she did not want Marco to take her for granted or vice versa simply because they were married, that after her experience with Elvis, she did not want another man to “control” her. There was some validity to these rationales, but they did not tell the complete story.

Priscilla and Marco, alone and with friends, referred to each other as “husband” and “wife.” Marco described his relationship with Priscilla as his “first marriage.” Marco said, facilely, that marriage was unimportant to him, that it was a technicality simply for “the state,” but friends such as Jerry and Brett belied that, acknowledging that Marco wanted to marry Priscilla.

What really held Priscilla back, most who knew her agreed, was, simply, the Presley name, for it was magic, and it was money, and Priscilla feared she could never duplicate either one on her own. Until she did, in Mike Edwards’s opinion, she could never truly be set free, as she claimed so long to desire.
“Marry
the guy!” Mike urged. “Come on. Give the fucking name
up!
You’ve got Marco’s child. Take on his name.”

It was ironic, finally, that Priscilla should be at this point of her life with the same identity complex with which she had begun it, mired in confusion over her last name. In a way, Priscilla’s true identity, her real name, had been taken from her by her mother and stepfather when she was three. Priscilla Ann Wagner had disappeared, replaced by a fiction that was Priscilla Beaulieu.

T
his book could not have been written with the same depth or breadth without the invaluable assistance of many. I am deeply grateful to everyone with whom I came in contact while researching this biography, nearly all of whom demonstrated a remarkable generosity of spirit.

Among those who graciously gave of their time, energy, or insight: Paul Abascal, Ginger Alden, Jo Alden, Rosemary Alden, Carol Ann Heine Allen, Melinda Allen, Martha Anderson, Nancy Anderson, Evangeline Segura Anguiano, Cindy Esposito Bahr, Mary Ann Williamson Barks, Rona Barrett, George Barris, Shirley Barris, Antje Bartsch, Pamela Basker, Dixie Jayne Beck, Helen Deshevy Beebe, Judy Comstock Bell, George Bennett, Phil Berdoll, Lillian Bicknell, Steve Binder, Olivia Bis, Ruth Blake, Nina Blanchard, Elsie Boaz, Denny Bond, Lorene Fielding Booker, Carol Boutilier, Joyce Bova, Barbara Klein Bower, Jane Breighner-Blackman, Rick Bresnan, Anita Wood Brewer, Hazel Brock, James D. Browe, Paul Büngener, Chuck Burns, Sheila Ryan Caan, Sue Cameron, Mauro Caputo, Stuart Cardy, Gerta Gleaves Carter, Marion Cocke, Bob Colacello, Joe Condrill, Al Coombes, Albert H. Corey, Yvonne Craig, Rosemarie Barrasso Cross, Richard Davis, Spencer Davis, Irena Deaderick, Helen Delahunt, Joe Delahunt, Donna Pollen DeSando, Diane Dinsmore,
Sylvia Dinsmore, Mike Dodd, Maureen Donaldson, Peggy Dotson, Ann K. Dunham, Michael Edwards, Jack Edwinson, Jo Haynes Eldred, Joyce Eliason, Robert Ellis, Debbie Esposito, Joe Esposito, LaNelle Fadal, Harry Fain, Lamar Fike, Lynn Baskett Fort, Steve Fox, Patricia Crowley Friendly, Pam Rutherford Gaines, Joan Gansky, Paul Gansky, Marco Garibaldi, Bill Geddie, Larry Geller, Ann George, Ray Geunther, Cliff Gleaves, Albert Goldman estate, Samira Goldman, Dana Rosenfeld Gordon, Carol Grant, Currie Grant, Dave Grant, Karon Grant, Michael Gray, Arthur Gridé, Elizabeth Sauersopf Haderer, Theresa Giannini Harrison, Jack Harwood, Patricia Heins, Donna Hennen, Jere Herzenberg, Richard Hirata, Holly Hire, Ysobel Hirsch, Charlie Hodge, Mike Hodnett, Kay Hoffman, Christine Laws Holcombe, Karen Hollander, Mary Ann Holstrom, Ed Hookstratten, Geraldine Hopper, Gary Hovey, Elisabeth Howard, Albert Iversen, Margaret Iversen, Wendy Iversen, Millie Iwomoto, Mary Jenkins, Darrell Johnson, Robbie Jones, Suzy Kalter, Steve Kanaly, “Karate” Pat, Joan Esposito Kardashian, Kimberley Kates, Taylor Keen, William Keen, Janet Strebel Kelly, Tom Kelly, Mike Kimball, George Klein, Debbie Ross Klinger, Gerald Knoepfel, David Krieff, Margie Prater Kugler, Debra Paget Kung, Geraldine Kyle, Alan Landsburg, Harry Langdon, Patricia La Pointe, Barbara Sobelman Larkin, Peggy Lebel, Wendy Lebel, Joey Ledford, Mylon LeFevre, Barbara Leigh, Harry Levitch, Gary Lewis, Leonard Lewis, Jamie Lindberg, John Linkletter, Eric Linterman, Gloria Linterman, Beatrice Locarno, John Love, Robert Lovenheim, Diana Magrann, Phylliss Mann, Elisabeth Mansfield, Rex Mansfield, Sister Mary Adrien, Sister Mary Gabriella, Patrick Mayo, Eddie McCann, Jo Lynn McCleary, Mike McGregor, Sandra Purkey McWilliams, Linda Williams Merrill, Mindy Miller, Sandi Miller, Jackie Graves Momberg, Kathy Monderine, Ricardo Montalban, Joe Moscheo, Stephie McCann Muhlhausen, Tom Muldoon, Ann Dickey Murrah, Leslie Murray, Willie Jane Nichols, Leslie Nielsen, Joann Nilsen, Mavis Nilsen, Virginia Overholt, Ed Parker, Patti Parry, Sue Patterson, Katherine Patton, Steve Peck, Larry Peerce, Doris Pieracinni, Larry Powell, Shirley Dieu Powell, Dee Presley, Joan Quinn, Beryl C. Quinton, Margaret Ramis, Fay Heim Rankin, Ron Redd, John Reddington, Suni Ernst Reskin, Carolyn Garcia Reynolds, Cecile Rhee, Khang Rhee, Frances Rhodes, Dr. Dale Rhoney, Kay Rhoney, Katie Neece Ricks, Sherry Riggins, Lance Robbins, Scott Rollins, Nancy Rooks, Elizabeth Sabine,
Dee Dee Saunders, Mike Saunders, Jerry Schilling, Lilo Schlesinger, Bernard Seibel, Melanie Sherwood, Sandy Silverberg, Nancy Sinatra, Mike Sinclair, Donna Wells Sklute, Hank Smith, Lois Smith, Myrna Smith, Paula Smith, Vernon Smith, Mark Snider, Tom Snyder, Jack Soden, Reed Sparling, Charlotte Spurlock, Billy Stanley, Rick Stanley, Jess Stearn, Diane Edenbo Stevens, Steven Stogel, Fran Stone, Mike Stone, Renate Strauss, Brett Livingstone Strong, Virginia Norwood Strong, Doug Sweetland, Ronald Aaron Tapp, Starr Tapp, Paul G. Taylor, Bob Thomas, Linda Thompson, Sam Thompson, Joseph Tobin, Arthur Toll, Roger Toll, Dora Keen Townsend, Donald Trull, Dr. P. A. Turman, Vandy Vandever, Mrs. Billie Vaughan, Celia Low Vendrell, Mike Vendrell, Baroness Vera Von Cronthall, Güdrun Von Heister, Michele Von Wechmar, Victor Von Wechmar, Gene Wagner, Kathryn Wagner, Bob Wall, Barbara Walters, Phyllis Wapner, Sonny Washington, Dorothy Fellows Weems, Red West, Kathy Westmoreland, Mrs. Sherman B. Wetmore, Sandy Brunke Whalen, Deborah Whalley, Calvert White, Dr. Peter Whitmar, Jackie Wiegand, Sue Wiegert, Barney Williams, Janie Williams, Ronnie Garland Williams, Edward Woodward, Michelle Woodward, Becky Yancey, and David Zucker. My gratitude, as well, to the reference librarians at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the Museum of Radio and Television in Beverly Hills, and the Beverly Hills, Memphis, New London, and Titusville libraries, as well as to the staffs at the Memphis probate court, the Los Angeles County archives, the National Personnel and Records Center, and the office of Congressman Richard Gephardt. My sincere thanks, also, to the superbly organized Wiesbaden Alumni Association, especially Margie Kugler.