Dirty Rocker Boys (27 page)

Worked like a charm. My brother, who now works in television in Hollywood, is a natural-born superhero.

It took a minute, but my mother came around to her daughter’s new career on TV. And I’m proud to be an Ex-Wife. I’m no one’s trophy babe, no one’s sidekick, no one’s punching bag anymore. I’m not hiding behind someone else, nor am I lost in the shadow of anyone else’s fame. This time, perhaps for the first time in my life, it’s just me being me. I can’t tell you how refreshing it feels to say that. And every time I start doubting myself, or start feeling like I might want to slip back into bad habits, I remember Jani. I remember how lucky I am to still be here. And I remember that our daughter needs me.

Throughout the years Pam and Tommy were together, interviewers would often tell me things that she had said about me,
trying to trick me into a reaction. “What do you think about Pam?” they would ask. “I
don’t
think about Pam,” would be my response. I was lying of course. Not caring, or pretending not to care, was the only way I could think of to cope with what had happened.

I was at a Playboy Mansion party one year when I spotted her, a whirl of peroxide and hangers-on. As I walked past, Pamela and her group of friends started laughing really loudly. They were making fun of me. I paused and looked Pamela in the eye. “Grow the fuck up,” I said. And at that point, I realized I no longer cared. We are both in our forties now, for crying out loud. I haven’t run into her since then, but I have seen her on television, and I admire her at this point—she’s still beautiful and, let’s face it, she got everything she wanted. Kudos to her. It’s not a competition anymore. I mean—it never really was, until she started going after Tommy.

Tommy was the dirty rocker boy I had spent so many years dreaming about. To this day, I can’t believe that the handsome face I pinned on my walls as a lovestruck teenager became the face I woke up next to, for one short, tumultuous year in the mid-1990s. As my momma always said, “Be careful what you wish for.” Maybe I should have listened to her. Because when it comes to boys, especially the kind you see roaming up and down the Sunset Strip, Momma is always right.

She always liked Jani, though, despite his damage. We all knew that beneath the rocker façade beat a huge and tender heart. Even though he’s gone, I still feel Jani with me every day.
Sometimes I get mad at him for dying, until I realize it wasn’t entirely his fault. I’m grateful I got a second chance at life. Jani could have had one too, but his wounds were, it turns out, even deeper than mine. And hopefully Jani’s friends and fans will always remember him as he was, an incredible talent, a true star. I really feel like he’s watching us. If he is, I hope he knows—cherry pie will always be my favorite.

Thanks to Adam Chromy for his belief in me and my story. To Caroline Ryder, thank you for “getting me” and knowing me so well, which made writing this book a breeze and so much fun. And thanks to Jeremie Ruby-Strauss and Emilia Pisani for making this book a reality. And to Jim Kuzmich. . . . I love you all.

Hey guys,

You’ve just read some crazy shit, but guess what—this isn’t a sob story. This is the tale of a perpetual self-saboteur—me—who, thanks to ignorance, youth, and naivety, ended up trapped in a never-ending life lesson. It took me longer than most to put those lessons behind me, and now that I have, I am grateful daily for the person I became because of those experiences. My past made me a person who is able to listen, help, and support others. My past humbled me, and taught me kindness. It made me aware that life is fleeting.

They say “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” and that’s an understatement as far as my life is concerned. But the strength I’ve gained is soft at its core. I don’t judge myself or the people who have been in my life. Having spent so many years trying to not feel and not to care, I am now a person who feels everything, and who cares. I care a lot.

Thanks for letting me just rip that. LOL.

Love, Bobbie