Seasons of the Heart

by Cynthia Freeman

  “Okay. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll take a suite of rooms for us at the Huntington. You can stay there and I’ll fly out as often as I can.”

  “Oh, Adam, could you? You’re sure it won’t be too hard on you? Can you leave your office? God knows my business is barely surviving. If it weren’t for May, I’d have to close up completely. I’ve been neglecting it so.”

  “My office will be just fine if I take off long weekends,” said Adam. “Don’t worry about me. Just take care of yourself.”

  “I love you, Adam,” Ann said, “and I’m too selfish to tell you not to come.”

  So Adam took a suite in the Huntington and arranged to be in San Francisco from Friday morning to Sunday afternoon. He was at the stage in his career where a great deal of routine work could be delegated, so some weeks he even stayed longer.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  EVIE WAS INSTALLED IN a private room at Rolling Hills, and for a nerve-racking week, Phillip and Ann were not allowed to visit her. When they finally entered the pleasant nursing home surrounded by beautifully kept gardens, they were appalled by her appearance. She was incredibly thin. The nurse told them that she simply refused to eat.

  She was no longer catatonic, but she seemed distant, detached from everything. Although she responded politely and intelligently to her parents’ questions, her eyes remained vacant. Phillip and Ann deluged Dr. Frankel with questions, but all he would say was that Evie’s recovery would take time, and they would have to be patient.

  One evening when Adam was in San Francisco, Ann came back to their suite, crying. “Oh, Adam—she’s never going to get better!”

  He gathered her into his arms. “Of course she will,” he said firmly. “She’s basically very healthy. This was just too much for her to take all at once. She’ll come out of it. You’ll see.”

  Across town, Phillip and Linda were also discussing Evie. “Ann agrees with Frankel—that we should go to see Evie only once a week, but I told her that we should go every other day. I don’t care what Frankel says—she’s my daughter and I think I know her best.”

  He looked up. “Do you need another drink? Oh … you’ve already got one.”

  “While you were talking.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I know I’ve been going on and on. But it was really rough today because Frankel wanted to limit our visits.”

  “Ours? Yours and Ann’s?” Linda asked slowly.

  “Well, yes, honey. At this stage it seems best that we go see her together.”

  “And just where do I fit in?”

  Phillip didn’t seem to notice the edge in her voice. “What do you mean, honey? At this point she’s not seeing any visitors.”

  “That’s just what I mean, Phillip. Visitors—outsiders. I suppose it’s natural that you and Ann need to support each other, but I’m beginning to wonder what role I play.”

  “What role? Linda, you can’t resent my time with Ann while Evie’s so sick!”

  “I don’t, Phillip. It’s just that I feel so helpless. I can’t do anything for you and I can’t do anything for Evie. When we fell in love, I thought we were going to be partners—sharing the bad times as well as the good.”

  “That’s what I want, Linda.”

  “Well, it doesn’t seem like it!” Linda cried, all the frustrations of the last few weeks finally exploding. “You see your wife constantly, your daughter doesn’t want to see me, and I feel as if I have no part in your life!”

  “I love you,” Phillip said evenly, “but for the time being I have to put Evie’s needs ahead of yours and mine.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “For God’s sake, Linda! We’re talking about Evie’s future. She tried to commit suicide! What kind of parent would I be if I turned my back on her now?”

  “Phillip, I’ve tried to understand, I really have. Maybe it’s because I never had children of my own, but it seems to me as if there’s never going to be room in your life for anyone except Evie. And I just can’t take it, Phillip!” She buried her face in her hands.

  The sound of her bitter words lingered in the silent room. Phillip was unable to reply. A part of him cried out that if she left he would lose the only person in the world who could make him happy. He wanted to tell her that she would always come first. But was that really true? No one would ever come before Evie in his heart. Perhaps if this crisis hadn’t happened, he would never have faced the issue, but it had and now it was too late. Linda would either have to accept the situation as it was—even his need to see Ann until Evie was better—or they could not continue together. It was up to Linda to decide.

  Quietly, he asked, “Shall I move my things out?”

  She smiled sadly. “That won’t be necessary. I think I’ll be going back to Washington. I got a job offer there a few weeks ago.”

  “Linda—” Phillip moved toward her, but she stepped away.

  “No, Phillip. Don’t touch me. I don’t think I could bear it.”

  “It’s a funny thing about love,” he said. “It’s the most fragile thing in the world. Like a soap bubble, lovely, buoyant. And then one day it bursts and it’s as though it never existed.”

  Three weeks later Phillip stood at the window of the air terminal, watching Linda’s plane taxi into position on the runway. For a short while he’d had a glimpse of Eden. Now it was lost to him forever. He waited until the plane disappeared into the distance, then turned and walked back to his car.

  It was late in May when Dr. Frankel asked Ann and Phillip to stop by his office after seeing Evie.

  “Evie’s problem is not just what happened with the abortion,” he said. “It’s become obvious in therapy that your separation traumatized her badly. As an only child, she derived a great part of her identity from her family. First her grandfather died. Then Phillip moved out and she learned you were both in love with other people. According to Evie, she had never heard so much as a cross word between the two of you. She thought that you were the happiest couple in the world.”

  The doctor spread his palms expressively. “She now says she has lost not only the close family she thought she had, but also her chance to have a family of her own. She believes she has nothing left to live for.”

  “Will she get better, doctor?” Phillip inquired huskily.

  “I still expect her to recover, but I’m afraid it’s going to take some time to work through her problems. It’s very important for you to continue to see her together. It gives her a sense of stability. And it would probably be best to avoid mentioning your other—interests—around her.”

  Ann and Phillip were silent on the ride home, each lost in thought. Phillip was full of self-recriminations. He was the one who had started all this. But Ann couldn’t face the implications of Frankel’s analysis of the situation—that Evie was devastated because her mother and father had found other partners. She loved Evie with all her heart, but how could she contemplate life without Adam?

  What if it came down to choosing between the two? What then?

  Over the next months Ann felt as if she were living in limbo. It was even harder on Adam, for the constant flying back and forth had exhausted even his almost boundless vitality, and San Francisco simply wasn’t his city. His social life—and his business life—were in Manhattan.

  Although he did his best to be sympathetic, Ann’s constant anxiety was a terrible strain on him. She was so emotionally drained by her daughter’s condition that she had very little feeling for anyone else. Many nights she was too tired to make love, and Adam started to skip his weekend flights to San Francisco to see her.

  But Ann was too depressed to protest.

  One morning she woke up and immediately felt even worse than usual. For a moment she couldn’t understand why. Then she remembered: it was September 9, Evie’s birthday. And it had been six months since Evie had had the abortion. She rolled close to Adam, grateful for his presence.

  “Morning, sweetheart,” he murmured.

&n
bsp; Ann said nothing, then: “It’s Evie’s birthday.”

  He was fully awake now. “So you’re going up there to see her?”

  “Later. When Phillip can get away from work.”

  Adam digested this announcement in silence, refraining from suggesting that he go along. He had stopped questioning Ann on this point, since it was obvious that Evie didn’t want to see him. At first he told himself that this was temporary, that when Evie got well, she would not only be able to appreciate how happy her mother was with him, but also would come to like him for his own sake. But as time passed, it had become harder and harder to believe this. The brutal truth was that Ann’s only child wanted no part of him.

  As if guessing his thoughts, Ann said, “Adam—I know what you’re going through, too….”

  He put his arms around her and held her close. But he couldn’t banish the misgivings that were passing through his mind.

  The cook at Rolling Hills had made Evie her favorite chocolate cake, and Ann and Phillip sang “Happy Birthday.” They had brought a pile of gaily wrapped presents and Evie dutifully opened them.

  There was a frilly new robe and nightgown, and several books, as well as cards from Leslie and Kim. Phillip had picked up an Imari ceramic cat contentedly curled up on its own satin pillow.

  “A kitten,” Evie said softly. “I’ve never had one.”

  “Well, I know you can’t have a real cat here, sweetheart.” Phillip smiled. “So I thought you might like this.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Evie said, stroking the little figure as if it were real.

  Then a look of infinite sadness crossed her face and her gaze returned to the window.

  After leaving Evie, they insisted on seeing Dr. Frankel. With uncharacteristic irritation, Phillip refused a chair. “Doctor Frankel, would you mind telling us just what you’re doing to help Evie? It’s been six months and I don’t see any progress at all.”

  The psychiatrist regarded Ann and Phillip thoughtfully, as though turning something over in his mind.

  “We just would like some assurance that Evie is making progress,” Ann added.

  Frankel seemed to come to a decision. “Sit down please, Mr. Coulter.”

  When Phillip had seated himself, the doctor continued. “I’m going to tell you the conclusion I reached after many sessions with Evie. She is a lovely, bright girl, but very sensitive and perhaps not as resilient as she might be.

  “There has been some progress. She is slowly overcoming her feelings of disgrace and shame. Time has softened the raw edges of the memory.

  “Unfortunately, the central problem remains: Evie feels she’s lost her place in the world. I cannot tell you how intensely she mourns the breakup of her family. Without that security in her life, I believe she doesn’t want to get well. She knows that as long as she is like this, she can stay at Rolling Hills, where she’s safe. And until we break that barrier, she simply is not going to get much better.”

  “What can we do, doctor?” Ann asked, dreading his response.

  “Well, I hate to suggest it, knowing your situation. But I think that if Evie saw the two of you together again, it might set her on the road to recovery.”

  Neither Ann nor Phillip would look at each other.

  “What do you mean, Doctor Frankel?” Ann asked sharply. “Pretend that we aren’t going to get a divorce after all?”

  He nodded.

  “For how long?” she cried.

  “For as long as it takes, Mrs. Coulter. I wouldn’t have suggested such a course if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary. This episode was a serious trauma for Evie, and it hit her at a crucial stage in her development. What you do now may affect her for the rest of her life.”

  “But, doctor …” Phillip began.

  “Can’t you, as parents, put your personal lives aside for the time being? For the sake of your daughter?”

  They stared at him helplessly. What choice did they have? Phillip knew that for him it would be no hardship. But as for Ann … He knew how happy she was with Adam, but Gayne didn’t look like the kind of man who could be put off indefinitely. How would he react to Ann’s moving back in with Phillip?

  “Phillip?” she begged him for a solution.

  “It’s up to you, Ann.”

  She nodded and turned back to Frankel. “All right. When do you suggest we tell Evie?”

  “The sooner the better. Right now, if you like.”

  As Phillip and Ann walked back down the hall to Evie’s room, Ann felt as if she were marching to her death. She couldn’t allow herself time to think. Once they had told Evie, she would have no chance to reconsider.

  Evie was surprised to see her parents back. She listened quietly as Phillip started to talk. But when he said, “… and so, you see, your mother and I have decided to move back into the house,” she interrupted him eagerly.

  “You’re getting back together? You’re not going to get a divorce after all! Oh, Dad, Mom—I can’t believe it—you’re both terrific! I love you!”

  Hugging her daughter, Ann thought, Adam—forgive me. I had no other choice.

  As they were leaving, she said, “We’ll be back to see you as soon as we can, darling. Remember: we both love you very much.”

  In the car she asked, “What do we do now, Phillip?”

  He sighed. “I wasn’t going to tell you this yet, but Linda and I have broken up. She couldn’t stand the strain of living with me while Evie was so sick.”

  “Oh, Phillip”—Ann paused awkwardly—“was it just Evie? Don’t lie … please.”

  “Evie … and other things. The situation.”

  “You mean your spending so much time with me. Phillip—I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s over now. She’s back in D.C.”

  “I wondered why she never seemed to answer anymore.”

  Phillip cleared his throat. “And what about you? How’s Adam going to take this?”

  “I don’t know. So far he’s been very understanding—wonderful, in fact. But I’m afraid he’s not going to like this idea one little bit.”

  Phillip hesitated, then said, “Ann, if you’d like me to, I could go see him. Try to explain that’s this little charade is for the sake of our daughter, that you and I aren’t going to—”

  “No! Don’t do that. Thanks, but it wouldn’t help. I’ll just have to try to make him understand.”

  Adam’s eyes were dark and unreadable as he paced the living room. “Let’s hear this once again. You’re moving back in with your husband? For how long, if I dare ask?”

  “I don’t know, Adam. Until Evie is okay, I guess.”

  “That’s pretty nebulous, isn’t it?” His voice rose angrily. “What you are proposing is that we simply put our relationship on hold until some unknown date when Evie recovers. Is that it?”

  “Adam, you don’t understand. Phillip and I aren’t going to live together in any real sense. It’s just that for our daughter’s sake we have to pretend to be reconciled. Until she’s strong enough to face reality on her own.”

  “Come on, Ann. Be serious. We’re adults now. Christ! Do you actually think I’m going to spend my nights lurking under your balcony, waiting for you to come to the window, like a character in some old Spanish play?”

  “Adam, please try to understand. It won’t be forever. Frankel says that Evie is already improved. It can’t be that long.”

  Adam took a deep breath as he fought for control. He was fed up with the situation already, but had hoped it was nearing an end. Now it would get even worse. He wanted to scream, To hell with your precious sick daughter! Think about me for a change. The idea of Ann sharing a house—if not a bed—with Phillip made him nauseated. He wanted to strike someone; kill someone. But he couldn’t give up Ann.

  “All right. All right. You win,” he told her in an even voice. “But I’ve waited a long time for you. And I’m running out of patience….”

  The next day Ann called Consuela. The previous year, wh
en Ann had announced her intention of selling the house, Consuela had moved in with her sister in Sacramento, but she readily agreed to come back to the Coulters’. Within three days she had opened the house, aired the rooms, made up the beds, and stocked the pantry.

  Phillip moved out of Linda’s now empty apartment. He moved his clothes back into his spacious dressing room, where a single bed had been installed.

  The day they picked up Evie was brisk and sunny, without a cloud in sight. They waited while she bade goodbye to the smiling nurses and to Dr. Frankel, whom she had come to love and trust. Phillip carried her suitcase out to the old Chrysler station wagon and they drove southward toward San Francisco and home.

  On the way, they stopped off in Sausalito and had a seafood lunch at a restaurant that overlooked the Bay. An old favorite of Evie’s.

  Watching her parents over the lunch table, Evie wondered fleetingly what had become of Linda and Adam, but was afraid to bring up the subject. If Mom and Dad are getting back together; they’ve broken up with their lovers. There could be no other explanation. But was it for my sake? The thought was intolerable. Evie tried to study their faces as they walked to the parking lot, but all she could detect was their delight in having her back with them. No, it couldn’t have been for me. They’ve come to their senses, that’s all. They know that we belong together, the three of us, just like it’s always been….

  Like all human beings, Evie believed what she wanted to believe. Phillip and Ann still loved each other. They had learned from their folly. If she had been the catalyst, so much the better.

  Moving back into their house as though nothing had happened proved much harder than either Phillip or Ann had expected. Phillip had to renounce any ideas he might have had about following Linda to Washington, while Ann detested having to sneak calls to Adam and seeing him for a brief hour when he flew in for the weekend. And there was always the terrible risk of discovery.

  The first few weeks, Evie seemed unwilling to let her mother out of her sight and followed her about the house like a two-year-old. Then, just as Ann had decided that Evie was worse than she had been at the sanatorium, she suddenly seemed to get better. She began going out, called her friends, and made plans to go back to school the following semester.