There Was a Little Girl: The Real Story of My Mother and Me by Brooke Shields

ever have.
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    When I was five years old, Dad married Didi Auchincloss. It was on May 1, 1970, in Manhattan. Didi was from a prominent New York family and had been traditionally educated. She had been married previously but was divorced from Tom Auchincloss, who was Jackie Kennedy’s stepbrother.
    I don’t remember them meeting or dating, just that one day I was told Dad was getting married. Because I had never experienced my mother and father as a married couple living together and as a bonded couple, I felt no jealousy toward my dad’s new bride. In fact, I thought she was very pretty and that everything in her house was always soneat. She was petite and reserved and kept her life in strict order. She was a brunette, well-bred, and well-educated debutante who reminded me of Jackie Onassis. Dad had chosen the antithesis of my mother. This, without a doubt, must have killed Mom. There is a beautiful photo of a smiling Dad and Didi coming out of an Upper East Side church and crossing the street. Dad is in tails and Didi has flowers in her hair. To me, it all seemed beautiful and perfect. I used to stare at every detail of this photo when I visited their Eighty-Sixth Street apartment. It all just looked so classic and beautiful.

    Didi had two children from her first marriage. Her daughter, Diana, was six years old, and her son, Tommy, was nine. I suddenly had an instant family, and I was excited by the future. It wasn’t long before another baby was on the horizon. My stepsister, Diana, and I were very lucky that our parents married, and even though we did not know it at the time, we were to become partners, allies, confidants, and lifelong sisters.
    Didi gave birth to my first half sister, Marina, when Diana and I were seven and six, respectively. Imagine the joy of knowing I was an older sister and that there was now a baby to play with! I had wished that my mom would have another baby, but it was not possible. I vaguely remember her going into a hospital and having a “female operation.” I suggested we adopt: “Just get one from the foundling home.” I didn’t want her with a man, but I did want a baby sibling. Now I had one, and Mom was off the hook.
    Over the years, Diana and I began spending more and more time together and unabashedly laughing the whole time. Diana even became quite attached to my mother, and Mom often introduced us as her daughters. Talk about unconventional! Didi seemed to have no qualms about her firstborn daughter being in the company of her husband’s ex-wife. She allowed Diana to spend time—a great deal of time—in our company and in our small-by-comparison apartment on Seventy-Third Street. Later, she even traveled with my mom and me all over the world. Diana and I became extremely close, and my mom loved us both. All parties involved seemed to support our being together. The three of us became a real team and we all benefited. Diana confided in my mother, who authentically loved her. I now had a partner with whom to commiserate. During the times Diana stayed with my mother and me, it seemed like we were always having fun and laughing.
    Soon Dad and Didi moved out to the North Shore of Long Island. They bought a beautiful house in an area called Meadowspring. Thehouse was huge and the backyard ample. I shared a room with Diana during my visits, and Tom and Marina had their own rooms.
    Over the next seven years, little girls would be born into this growing brood. Cristiana next and Olympia “the baby.”
    Sometimes Diana would stay in the city with my mom and me. The three of us would drive around in our silver convertible, with the top down, eating cherries or peaches from the fruit stand. We would park outside Dad’s office with the radio blaring, eating our fruit and awaiting my father, who would drive Diana back out to Long Island. It was slightly reminiscent of when Mom used to wait to surprise-attack my father outside his old office building. This time it