When Caroline Bouvier Kennedy married writer and inventor Edwin Schlossberg in the summer of 1986, her brother rose to welcome the groom into a family that for so long had been just Jackie, Caroline and John. “The three of us have been alone for such a long time,” he said. Now, there is just one. From the start, united by sorrow and an unforgivingly public childhood, John and Caroline shared an inviolable bond. After their mother’s death in 1994, Caroline became John’s sounding board and confessor. In turn, he was a fond uncle to her children, Rose, 11, Tatiana, 9, and John, 6. The two New Yorkers spoke by phone almost daily and often dined together at a back table at San Domenico, an Italian restaurant just off Central Park. “They would spend hours at the table and laugh a lot,” says general manager Marisa May. “He would always kiss her when he said goodbye.”
Still, in some ways the siblings were a study in contrasts. As an editor and philanthropist, John remained in the public eye, while Caroline became the most reticent of Kennedys. Recalls maternal cousin John H. Davis: “She told my mother several years ago, ‘I will be perfectly happy to spend all my days in my apartment writing, playing with my children and looking after my husband.’ ” Now that she is all that is left of Camelot, it remains to be seen whether Caroline, an attorney who cowrote a book titled The Right to Privacy, will be able to guard that privilege.