What Really Happened (20 page)

So there I was on December 12
^th
in North Carolina, living a happy, secluded, making-a-baby, don’t-even-go-to-the-grocery-store life (unless it’s a store that’s far, far away from Elizabeth’s neck of the woods), and this was my big “I am in so much pain I can barely move” outing of the week, which was to go to the OB/GYN office in Cary, and to the Whole Foods store, which was across the street. It was my first visit to a grocery store in a very long time (Andrew or Cheri would usually shop for me to prevent the possibility of me running into anyone), and, despite my pain, I was very excited about that.

At that point in my pregnancy, I was in a lot of pain. I could barely walk. I was sitting on a “special” pillow in the car, which also didn’t help. During the drive to the doctor, I was talking to Andrew on the phone. He claimed he had just returned from Bunny’s house in Virginia, and that she had given him twenty-five thousand dollars, which he claimed he never deposited. (According to public records, he actually received $175,000 on that day!) I remember this call vividly, given that later, in my head, I went over and over my drive to the doctor’s office, and I am positive I was not being followed. These were long country roads; I would have seen someone following me.

I got to the office, parked right by the door, and went in. On my way out, I thought about putting my sunglasses on but decided against it given I was just popping across the street to Whole Foods. It hurt too much to try and maneuver my bag to the other shoulder to dig for the sunglasses. Pregnancy was not kind to my forty-three-year-old body!

When I walked outside and got in my car, I noticed a man standing about two cars away on the sidewalk. I started the car and drove across the street. I went into Whole Foods and shopped slowly. It was evening by the time I was done—no need for those sunglasses while I pushed the filled cart slowly to the car. I saw that same guy who had been standing outside the doctor’s office walking toward me. I opened the trunk of the car and began putting the bags there.

He continued walked quickly toward me. “Rielle, I am from the
National Enquirer
. Are you pregnant with John Edwards’s baby?”

To my right, a photographer appeared out of nowhere and began snapping pictures, circling all around me.

“Are you six months pregnant with John Edwards’s baby?”

“Please leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I kept loading my groceries. I just kept repeating the same thing over and over to every question he asked: “Please leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please leave me alone.”

“Are you Rielle Hunter?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Please leave me alone.”

He kept firing questions while the photographer snapped photos. It was an ambush.

I remember someone coming up to me, a fellow shopper, and asking if I were all right and asking if I needed any help. Team
National Enquirer
buggered off, and this shopper said to me, “What were they doing? I have never seen anything like that.” I said, “Yes, thank you. I’m all right,” and got in my car. I called Andrew.

As I drove away, I saw the so-called reporter in his car and the photographer in another car, a blue SUV.

I told Andrew that the
National Enquirer
had just photographed me in the parking lot of Whole Foods. He laughed as though he thought I was kidding. “I’m not kidding. This isn’t a joke. I was just photographed by the
National Enquirer
.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes!”

I related as much as I could. “Shit,” Andrew said. “Okay, let me find him. Are they following you?”

“No, they’re not. I saw their cars. They are not.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back.”

Johnny was on the campaign bus preparing for an event when John Davis told him that Andrew was on the line. Johnny told me he said, “I’ll call him later,” and John replied, “It’s urgent.”

Johnny went to the back of the bus and got on the phone. “What’s up?”

“We have a problem, boss. They photographed her,” Andrew said.

“Who?”

“The
National Enquirer
. They photographed her in a parking lot. It’s really weird, boss. She acts like nothing happened.”

When Johnny told me about this exchange later, we both wondered why Andrew said that. If you know me, and Johnny does, it’s an odd thing for Andrew to say, so it stuck in Johnny’s head when Andrew said it. Of course, now we understand that Andrew had an entirely different agenda. Was he trying to deflect from himself?

Was he insinuating that I had tipped off the
National Enquirer
? Believe me, I have been accused of that countless times. In fact, in 2009 I signed a statement under oath saying that I had never directly or indirectly contacted the
National Enquirer
or any other tabloid, or received money from them, directly or indirectly. Shockingly enough, I am actually not a big fan of the
National Enquirer
. Aside from stalking me via satellite, completely invading my privacy, printing the worst possible pictures of me, and continually making up stories, the publication’s staff has continually and relentlessly attempted to contact me and anyone who knows me. The
Enquirer
’s audacity never ceases to amaze me. In fact, recently the
Enquirer
contacted one of my lawyers to offer me yet another interview for compensation. The only compensation I would accept from the
Enquirer
would be if it agreed to shut down forever!

Andrew called back with Johnny on the line. I related to him everything about the incident. He said that he had to go do an event but that he would call back.

I drove back to my house and, instead of turning into the driveway, drove by it. Sure enough, within minutes I saw the blue SUV inside the gated community, headed toward my rental house. I started following him. He knew I was following so he sped up and lost me. I drove to Andrew’s rental house, put my car in the garage, and went inside. I called my lawyer, Rob Gordon, and told him, “So I was just photographed by the
National Enquirer
. And there’s a bit of a problem. In the photos, it will look like I’m seven months pregnant.”

“But you’re not,” Rob said.

“I am.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I am.”

“But John Edwards isn’t the father.”

“He is.”

It may have appeared as if I was running around blabbing that John Edwards was the father of my baby. Simply not true—I hadn’t even told my lawyer!

Johnny called from the back of the bus. He was livid. He was screaming at me, one of the two times he had ever screamed at me during our entire relationship. Andrew was sitting next to me (we were in his home office), and he said, “Just tell him I’ll say the baby is mine.”

I looked at Andrew as if to say, “Don’t be ridiculous.” I didn’t repeat what Andrew had said to Johnny. I simply discarded it.

It was very dark outside by the time Johnny and I hung up. Andrew drove me back to my rental house in their white van. We went from their garage to my garage, and once inside, I pulled all the curtains in my house.

By the time Andrew had gotten back to their house, Cheri had noticed the
National Enquirer
guys peering in her window. She called 9-1-1. Apparently, the
Enquirer
had rented a room for golfing, inside the Governors Club which gave the
Enquirer
staff access to the gated community and entitled them to be there. I don’t know what exactly happened with the
Enquirer
over at Andrew’s house, but I was told there was screaming and yelling between them and the Youngs, and the cops came. The
Enquirer
was booted out of the gated community.

Johnny and I spoke on the phone off and on that entire night. He did not sleep a wink. He wanted out of the race but his conflict was that he didn’t want to be forced out by a tabloid. I totally understood not wanting to be bullied.

The next morning, without any sleep, Johnny had his run time and workout and then did the
Des Moines Register
debate. I was surprised that he did a very good job.

Elizabeth joined Johnny on the bus with the kids later that afternoon. They went to some sledding event; Johnny spent his time doing phone calls about this little tabloid problem that he was still hiding from Elizabeth. She had no idea.

Johnny told me that, during this time, Andrew and he spoke on the phone and Andrew suggested to him, “Why don’t I just say I am the dad? Nobody will care about two staffers having an affair.”

“Andrew, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah, I’ll have problems getting her on board anyway.”

Unfortunately, the suggestion alone planted the seed. And I’ll bet having Elizabeth right there with Johnny helped that little seed grow into a full harvest within a few hours, changing his thinking from, “That’s crazy,” to, “Uh, maybe that will work.”

I believe Johnny was looking for a life raft to keep himself floating, without her finding out, while he waited for a natural exit from the race, not to be forced out by a tabloid. I don’t believe his saying yes to Andrew’s idea was ever intended to keep his bid for the White House alive.

Andrew mentioned his idea to me and I rejected it.
Again
. “Do you realize how stupid that is? No one is going to believe it.”

I got a call from Johnny when I was standing in the kitchen of my rental house. It was dark but I don’t know if it was dark outside or just inside because the curtains were still drawn to keep the
National Enquirer
people away. Johnny said, “Andrew says you are the only one who is not on board with this idea.”

“
What?
Cheri is on board?”

This was the first time that this crazy idea started to seem real to me. I never thought it was going to fly because what woman would ever say yes to her husband publicly claiming paternity for a child that wasn’t his? It never occurred to me that there are people in this world who want to be rich above and beyond
everything
else. I later learned from the Youngs that Andrew sold Cheri the idea by saying that if they did this, they would be financially set for life. Knowing Johnny like I do, I thought, but did not share with the Youngs, that this was very strange thinking, mixed with very big assumptions on their part. Of course, I didn’t know at the time what was going on with Bunny’s money.

I also thought that no matter what these crazy men thought, Cheri would be my out. And now I had none. They all wanted to do this.

I reacted the way most seven-months-pregnant women would: I began to cry. And I cried, and I cried, and then I cried some more.

I did not want any part of this. It went against all my belief systems. I said over and over, “No one is going to believe this! It’s stupid! It doesn’t make any sense.”

I remember sitting in my bathroom crying when Rob called. I picked up and said hello through my tears, and he asked what was wrong. I couldn’t believe he was asking me that and lost it. I screamed, “What’s
wrong
?
What’s wrong?
”

He immediately said, “Let me rephrase: any new developments?”

Somewhere in between phone calls, tears, and the pregnancy pain I was in, I let go. I gave up. I surrendered. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t want to cry. I made a decision to let go of everything I believed—just let it all go. And what came to me when I did that, when I let it all go was no matter how stupid I thought this was, I would do whatever Johnny wanted me to do. I did not want him to blame whatever was going to happen on our daughter. I didn’t want Johnny to hold over our daughter’s head that his being pushed out of the race or my saying no to this stupid decision was in any way her fault. And more importantly, I didn’t want her to blame herself if he did. After all, she has enough going against her already. Okay, I would go along but I wasn’t actually going to say that Andrew was the father. I was going to say what I believed: it was nobody’s business, and my decision to bring my daughter into the world, my pregnancy, doesn’t have to do with John Edwards. Another nondenial, but it was what I believed.

Of all the things that happened in my relationship with Johnny, the thing I regret the most is going along with this stupid idea and allowing this lie to go public. After this happened, whenever a choice came up again that I thought was not the right way to go, or I felt that Johnny’s interests were in conflict with what was best for Quinn, which happened more than a few times because Elizabeth was steering his boat, I held my ground. I would not waver: my daughter always won. She still does.

The next step was for Johnny to tell Elizabeth this fantastic news—Andrew and Rielle had just further ruined their lives. This was to be followed by Andrew talking to Elizabeth. As I remember, Johnny had just finished doing
Today
. He and Andrew talked and he told Andrew, “The next time we talk, Elizabeth will be here.”