Kris Jenner . . . And All Things Kardashian (13 page)

BOOK: Kris Jenner . . . And All Things Kardashian
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“C’mon, Kris, let’s go on vacation,” she told me.

I wanted Ryan to come along. It would be the make-or-break trip for our relationship. This was going to be the guy or I had to move on. But there were problems—and not just catching him in bed with someone else. As passionate as our relationship was when we were in bed, it was even more passionate in the opposite direction when we were trying to get along. He was difficult and moody, and I had four kids to worry about.

On the morning we were to leave for the ski trip, Ryan and I got into a fight, and he threatened to cancel. We were fighting about something stupid, but he was ready to bail, with only twenty minutes before we had to leave for the airport.

“I’m not going to go, I’m not going to go,” he kept repeating.

“Please go, please go,” I pleaded, hating myself for having to talk him into a ski trip. “I don’t have anybody to go with. We planned this trip together.”

Finally he relented and we headed to the airport. I should have known how awkward it was going to be.

We arrived in Deer Valley and stayed at one of the most beautiful resorts. We had a three-story town house to ourselves, complete with an outdoor Jacuzzi and a swimming pool. There was a fireplace in every room. It was heaven. We had the fireplaces crackling, the champagne poured, and the Jacuzzi hot.

The next day I watched Ryan gravitating toward the Hawaiian Tropic girls that were swarming around the resort. And I knew: When your boyfriend is paying more attention to the Hawaiian Tropic girls than you, you have a problem. At the end of the trip I thought,
This guy is a lot of fun, and it’s definitely been a rollercoaster ride: fun, wild, exciting, and a little scary. But this is not the guy for me. I have to end it and I have to end it now.
I felt like I always had to babysit him, not to mention worry about who he was sleeping with when I wasn’t around. The trip was a very sobering end to a very passionate relationship.

After we got home, I went over to Ryan’s house to pick up some things I had left there and to say good-bye. I was crying, but I tried to be calm.

“You know what? You have been really amazing to get to know, but I just can’t do this,” I told him. “You’re not ready.” Meaning he was so young and so not ready for the responsibility of someone like me and my four children. I mean, can you imagine?

I knew I had made a
ginormous
mistake, but it was too late.

I had lost Robert.

Suddenly, I realized everything that was great about my marriage. Robert was the greatest guy in the world. He would never cheat on me. He only wanted the best for me. He encouraged me to find things to do for myself and have new interests. He took me on vacation, bought me anything I wanted, and let me be the best mother I could be. He nurtured our relationship.

Robert made me a better person. He introduced me to a life I would have never known otherwise and encouraged me to be a good Christian. When I lost him, I lost friends, I lost respect, and I lost love.

He adored me, and I treated him so badly. To this day, I still cannot tell you why. Again, it was as if my body had been taken over by demons or aliens. I was really ashamed of myself. But I didn’t try
to get Robert back. I didn’t want to insult him like that. I had been
so
wrong. I had so embarrassed him, humiliated him, destroyed him. Not only that, but my bad behavior had taken a serious toll on our kids, and they certainly didn’t deserve that.

The divorce got ugly. Robert canceled my credit cards and revoked my Gelson’s grocery charge privileges.

“What do you think I’m going to do, charge too many tomatoes?” I asked.

I mean, my kids had to eat. I was paralyzed. One night I took my kids out for pizza with Candace and another friend, and I didn’t have money to pay for pizza. That might have been my lowest moment, when I realized I couldn’t buy my children pizza. If Robert wanted to show me that I was nothing without him, it worked.

I spent the next couple of weeks mourning and taking stock of what I had done. I had been on a kamikaze mission and imploded my entire family along with myself. I was so embarrassed. I had disappointed so many people. These were people who had once respected me, and admired me, and I let them all down.

I continued down this path of emotional instability for the longest time. I couldn’t even perform the simplest tasks or do my errands. I wanted to just shut down, not think, go to sleep. But I wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping. I was
so
tired. I never saw myself ever in a million years being divorced. I always thought I would live happily ever after and raise this wonderful family with a loving husband and house full of loving kids.

What I put my family through during this time will always be my biggest regret. What it taught me—and what I tell young women going through something similar—is that there are ups and downs and changes in life, but you have to have self-control. You have to understand that relationships have their ebbs and flows, and that life just evolves. It is about love and friendship. It’s not always about passion and heat. I just didn’t understand that. My feeling
unfulfilled was valid, but the way I had responded to it wasn’t fair. I struggled through very dark days, accepting what I had done, before I began to see a light at the end of my tunnel.

Eventually, there was light. I knew that I was at a crossroads in my life and I knew that I was not at peace with myself. I was devastated that I had broken up my marriage. I had great guilt. I felt ashamed and disgusted with myself. I had always imagined myself as someone who would only be strong and committed and passionate about my family, my husband, my children. Yet, somehow, this horrific situation had taken over my life, and I had let it happen. I definitely had let God slip out of my life, and I needed to snap out of it and get things back on track.

I was sitting in my backyard one day, and it felt so empty because my husband was gone, my friends were gone, the laughter was gone, the music was gone, the happiness was gone, the peace was gone, and the contentment was gone. So much was gone. My house had become a shell. I was stripped of every emotion I had always relished. I was the one who was always excited or passionate about everything, but my impulsive search for passion had, ironically, stripped me of the passion I once had. You could feel it in our house. I had let everything I loved slip away in exchange for an insane affair.

As I sat there looking at my four kids playing in the pool with all their friends over, I had one of those “Aha!” moments. We had had the fairy-tale life, and suddenly it was over. My kids were living on a battlefield, and that wasn’t fair. That wasn’t what they signed up for, and it was certainly not the way I thought my life would go. I thought,
That’s it. This is my life! I am not going to let this destroy my children for one more moment.
I made a declaration to myself:
You know what, I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning and I’m going to be a whole new girl. I’m going to get up, I’m going to pick up my dry cleaning and get my car washed and get my house
cleaned and get my drawers organized and get my kids’ lunches made.
I was going to throw every ounce of my being into my kids and our home. I was going to be the best mother and housekeeper and carpool driver.
I’m going to do it all, and I’m going to do it really well, because that’s what my kids deserve.

I stood up and went upstairs to my bathroom, and I remember I was so drained. I started splashing cold water on my face, and I remember thinking that this was a cold-water moment, no pun intended. I was going to get back on track. I was going to go to church. I was going to pray about my situation, and I was going to pray for my children, and one day I hoped I would live long enough to make it all up to them.

That day, I decided from that moment on I was going to be the best Kris possible. I was going to be a woman who always tries to live the truth.

CHAPTER SIX

 

Meeting My Match

 

M
y attorney, Dennis Wasser, was indeed the best in Los Angeles. He had everything under control. “You’ll probably get your house,” he said. “Stick to the plan. Everything’s going to be okay.”

In June of 1990, Dennis went into court for some emergency relief, and soon I was getting a monthly allowance. I was able to pay my bills. I was far from being whole again, but everything was going along okay. Robert and I shared visitation with the kids. I don’t think they fully grasped what had happened, and Robert and I both tried very hard to keep things as normal as possible for them. We stuck to their routines: school, lessons, summer camp, and summer school. We kept things moving. I think because we kept them busy, they were kind of okay. We put on a happy face, and I don’t think they understood everything going on at the time.

Finally, I went on a blind date, a really lousy date that a friend talked me into. I came home that night and began thinking about
what to do next. It sure didn’t include dating. The regret and remorse of what I had done had begun to subside, and I was getting back to the hard work of making things better. I went back to the business of being the best mom that I could be. That was my priority. I had destroyed my marriage, but I didn’t want to lose my kids. I didn’t want my kids to have
that
as their memory of me.

The next morning I vowed to forget about dating and spend all of my time and energy on my new life with my children. I made my kids lunches, I took them to school, I went to the dry cleaners, I did my errands. By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, I got a call from Candace Garvey.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“It’s going fine.”

“Well, I’m up here in Alaska, and the greatest thing happened. I’m here with a guy named Bruce Jenner. Do you know who Bruce Jenner is?”

Candace and Steve were shooting an outdoors television show up there, and Bruce was one of their guests. He was up in Ketchikan alone for a small celebrity fishing tournament. Candace noticed that Bruce wore sweats pretty much every day; she had first thought of asking me to help him spruce up his style. Candace always dressed like a Ralph Lauren model. In Alaska, she was sporting the kind of vest with all the little pockets that fishermen wear, khaki pants, and a really cute shirt, her hair perfect and her face gorgeous. Bruce remarked on how great she looked.

“If you think
I
look great, you should see my friend Kris,” she said. “Kris really knows how to dress; she
really
knows how to shop,” she told him. Then she stopped mid-sentence, struck by an idea. “Oh, wait a minute, Bruce,” Candace continued. “This is perfect! Kris would be great for you to go out with!”

Candace immediately switched from the personal-shopper idea
to being utterly convinced that Bruce and I would make a perfect match. That’s Candace for you. Bruce, of course, who wasn’t into shopping, especially when it came to clothes, didn’t immediately warm to the idea, to say the least.

“Oh, yeah, that’s just what I need, Candace,” Bruce replied. “A professional shopper.”

When Candace called me, I was hesitant from the start. “Yeah, I know who Bruce Jenner is,” I said.

“Don’t you think he’s adorable?”

“Yeah, he’s all right. Why?”

“Well, I want to set you guys up on a blind date.”

“What?”

We talked for thirty minutes about why I should go on this blind date with Bruce Jenner.

“Candace, I don’t want to ever look at another guy for as long as I live,” I said. “I’ve given up guys. I just want to be a mom. The last thing I want to do is to go out on a blind date.” She went on and on and on about all of the reasons why I should go out on a date with Bruce Jenner. I just repeated, “Hell no.” I didn’t want to go out with
anybody
, especially somebody whom any of my friends knew. It would just be too much. But Candace wouldn’t give up.

“Come on, Kris, come on, Kris, come on, Kris,” she said.

If you know anything about Candace Garvey, you know that she is persistent. I knew she was never going to give up unless I agreed to go on the blind date.

“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll go out with your friend Bruce when you guys get back from Alaska,” I told her.

I figured she’d call me in two weeks and then I could get out of it. Candace came home a few days later, and the minute they landed at the airport she called me. I was minding my own business, trying to be Mother of the Year, when the phone rang: a conference call with Candace, Steve, and me.

“Let’s all go to dinner together tomorrow night!” they shouted in unison.

“Tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Steve and Bruce are playing in the Michael Jordan Golf Tournament at the Riviera Country Club,” said Candace. “Meet us there and we’ll all go out to dinner afterward.”

“Oh my God, Candace, please—”

She cut me off in the middle of my excuses. Again, nobody says no to Candace Garvey.

“Okay, okay, all right, I’ll meet you there.”

I hung up and immediately found a babysitter for the next night, doubting everything all along the way.

The next morning Candace called.

“Are you excited about tonight?”

“Not really. I really don’t want to do this. I’m doing this for you.”

“You’re perfect for each other,” she said. “He’s got four kids, you’ve got four kids. It’s going to be great. You could really use a good guy. And Bruce is a
great
guy. He’s not dating anybody. It’s perfect timing. Where do you want to go?”

“I’ll meet you at the country club, because I’m not going out with this guy by myself. Let’s go to the Ivy at the Shore.”

“Okay, great,” said Candace.

I brought my nanny, Tracy, with me on the blind date. My housekeeper was staying with my kids, and I told Tracy that I wanted her to come with me so that I didn’t have to get into Bruce’s car with him alone. I never wanted to be put in the position on a blind date where I was in the guy’s car by myself. I don’t know why I felt like that, but I did. So Tracy came with me to the Riviera Country Club.

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