The War of the Roses: The Children

by Warren Adler

“I’ve been there, Josh,” she sighed, leaning over to smear more pâté on the pumpernickel.

  “The guilt of it gave me great pain. But I’m afraid I am doomed to punishment. You know how her husband found out. Her confessor told him.”

  “They can’t do that,” Evie said. “They’re not supposed to tell.”

  “The thing is, her husband knew about it for awhile. Angela said all the priest did was hint, but I’m sure the hints were broad. I was being set up. Not by Angela. I can’t believe she would have thought of it. But by her husband.”

  She finished the hors d’oeuvre and licked her chubby fingers. “Are you sure Victoria doesn’t know?” she asked.

  He shook his head vehemently. “God forbid. That’s the end of the world for me. And the kids, if they ever get wind of this…,” his voice trailed off.

  Evie smiled and shook her head. Her chins quivered.

  “Now, now,” she said, patting his hand again. “Maybe you should give him the money.”

  “That’s just it. I can’t. You know why? Victoria controls the money. I can’t ask her.”

  “Is it a great deal of money?”

  “It’s two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Oh dear God.”

  Josh recounted how the husband showed up in his office and gave him an ultimatum.

  “He wants it by tomorrow.”

  Evie dipped into the pâté again. “You must eat, Josh. It will give you confidence.”

  “It’s not confidence I need. It’s money.”

  It occurred to him suddenly that the day would come when he would have to ask Victoria for help in supporting Evie. He brushed the thought quickly from his mind.

  “This will require a bit of thinking, Josh,” Evie said. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then looked around the apartment. Josh followed her eyes.

  The apartment was a large rent-controlled place in a building that had seen better days. But it did have a wonderful view of the Hudson. Scattered around the apartment were the odd remnant of their parents’ antique collection. There were also many framed pictures of them with their parents before the “accident.”

  “I’ve been offered $50,000 for the bed, Josh. I haven’t sold it yet. I think I could get more at auction. But you can have that and the rug, and the other odds and ends might fetch more.”

  Through the sudden mist filling his eyes Josh could still see his sister’s face. They had stuck together through thick and thin, worried about each other, and he had gladly, eagerly turned over his half of their inheritance to her. Bending over, he kissed her forehead.

  “Dear, dear Evie.”

  “Maybe her husband will be reasonable?”

  “No way,” Josh said. “He’s seen our house. He knows what I make. He wants a certified check and my signature on this ridiculous legal document.” He patted his inside jacket pocket, which held the envelope. “I’m not supposed to bad-mouth Angela, and it says I admit to sexual harassment, a bald-faced lie. The woman seduced me. The fact is, I’d sign it and get it over with if I could come up with the money, which I can’t. Hell, Evie, I don’t even know where our bank accounts are. In fact, I know zero about our finances.” He shook his head. “My fault there as well. I never cared to know.”

  “Then we’ll have to figure out a way. But first dinner.”

  “I’m really not that hungry, Evie.”

  “That is the source of your consternation. An appetite for food is an appetite for life.”

  She gently pushed Tweedledee off her lap and then got up, took his hand, helped lift him from the couch, and led him to the dining room. She had set two places.

  “Mom’s dishes. And those wonderful Waterford crystal wine glasses,” Josh said, observing the care she gave to setting the table.

  “Wait’ll you taste what I made. And the wine.”

  She had already opened it, and it stood on a little silver tray. He noted it was a La Tâche, and it crossed his mind that she had preserved it from their father’s extensive wine collection. On closer inspection, he realized that it was a ’91 vintage, which put it more than a dozen years after they had died. He figured the wine cost nearly three hundred dollars, but he refused to rebuke her for her extravagance.

  “Dad had ’66,” Evie said, seeing him inspect the label. “He had such wonderful taste.” She shook her head sadly. “God, I miss him.”

  “So do I,” he said. “Very much.”

  When he was seated, she went into the kitchen, which wasn’t far from the small dining room.

  “You just sit there, brother mine. What I have for you will make everything all right.”

  He studied the table settings, remembering the dishes, glasses, and napkins that their mother had loved. For some reason, they had not been caught in the crossfire of their war. Looking at them, touching them, he tried yet again to fathom what had happened between his mother and his father to create such animosity and hatred between them. Through it all they had been exceedingly loving parents. It would forever be the great riddle of their lives.

  “Ta da,” Evie chirped, bringing in a tureen, also recognizable from their mother’s collection. She ladled out the soup into his bowl and her own. He watched how she dipped her nose close to the soup and waved her hands in an upward motion to get the full aroma.

  “It’s butternut squash soup, darling. Squash, of course. Lots of heavy cream, onions, cloves, parsley, and a dash of curry. It’s a miracle soup, really. Come on, now. Do your duty. It will make you courageous.”

  They ate their soup in silence. Josh tried his best but left more than half in the soup plate while Evie polished off her own as well as what was left in the tureen.

  After she had finished her soup, Evie said, “Just suppose you fessed up. Is Victoria willing to destroy the family simply because you were briefly unfaithful? Surely she would not take such drastic action? I’ve found that the honest truth is always the best policy.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. That was always the basis of our relationship. That’s why I feel so awful about this. I betrayed our principles. I lied. I cheated. I betrayed her. Now it’s come home to roost.”

  “Sometimes things are irresistible, Josh. No matter how hard you try to resist. People who love you have to make allowances.”

  “I’m afraid Victoria has become a bit of a purist.” He was tempted to tell her about the incident with Michael, but held off.

  Evie got up from the table and collected the soup plates and the tureen and went back into the kitchen.

  “Ta da,” Evie cried again, bringing in a serving plate, then going back to the kitchen and returning with another. Then she sat down and poured the wine, pointing out the dishes she had prepared.

  “That’s sweet potato casserole. It has pecans in it and butter and cream, of course, and an egg and just an inchy binchy pinch of mace.” She smiled and turned her attention to another dish. “English pot pie,” she said. “It’s got everything. Veal kidneys, butter, brandy, paprika, Worcestershire, Tabasco, fresh tarragon. I mean everything. And look how pretty it looks.” She winked at him. “And don’t forget to leave room for the coconut cake and my special chocolate dish. Now just dig in.”

  “Evie, you really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

  “Trouble? Josh, the preparation of this food is my expression of the truest love I have for my brother. You must understand that there are consequences to thinness. Deprivation makes people….” She searched for the right word. “Arid.”

  He forced himself to eat and show passion for her food. In a strange way, he felt his morbidity disappear. It was soothing, too, to know that Evie was happy to have him there. He was surrounded by love and felt its power.

  “You really think I should tell her?” Josh said. “Confess all?”

  “When you tell people you’ve done the wrong thing, they o
ften will look inside themselves and see that they, too, might, given the right circumstances, do the very same thing.”

  “Victoria wouldn’t see it that way. For her, it would be the death knell of our marriage.”

  “What about the children?”

  He shrugged and thought about it for a moment.

  “Yes, the children,” he sighed. “We’ve been there, Evie. We had no choice in the matter.”

  “What could we have done?”

  They grew silent. He watched the moisture gather in his sister’s eyes. It was the only subject that could ever move her to tears.

  Recovering, she rose from the table and came back with a coconut cake and two long glasses filled with a dark brown substance that she identified as chocolate chantilly. She placed the cake plate and the glasses of chocolate on the table and proceeded through her litany about ingredients. He watched her cut the cake and move one of the chocolate chantilly glasses in front of him.

  He dipped his spoon into the chocolate and let a gob of it melt in his mouth. It permeated through his taste buds and, despite his attitude toward food, it did give him a momentary lift.

  Somehow, Tweedledee had materialized on Evie’s lap. Evie ate her chocolate chantilly and then went to work on the coconut cake, sharing it with Tweedledee. Josh forced himself to finish the piece that she had cut for him.

  “It was wonderful, Evie. Wonderful. Just being with you has been of great help.”

  They moved back to the living room and again sat on the couch. He had offered to help with the dishes, but she would have none of it.

  “I have found,” Evie said, her chubby hands clasped about her expansive middle as if still in thrall to the food that she had ingested, “that good people sometimes do bad things.” She paused for a long moment, holding back tears.

  “Like Mom and Dad,” he sighed. “And now me.”

  They exchanged glances and she took a few deep breaths and brushed aside an errant tear with the back of one hand.

  “But you’re still here, Josh.”

  He reached out, took her hand, and kissed it.

  “Dear sweet Evie,” he whispered.

  “And Josh. You both must not do anything that will hurt your children. We both know too much about that, don’t we?”

  “It may be too late,” he sighed.

  “Far from it,” she insisted.

  He was silent for a long time. Evie always saw the glass as half full.

  “Thank you, Evie,” he said. “For being my sister.”

  Later, as he drove home, mulling over various ideas for tomorrow’s confrontation, he felt suddenly nauseous. He stopped the car and stepped outside to vomit. With the undigested food gone, his pessimism returned in force.

  Chapter 7

  Victoria called Gordon Tatum as soon as the house was empty. She hoped that he would not notice the tremor in her voice.

  “Victoria,” Tatum said pleasantly at the other end of the phone. “This is a surprise.” Smooth as silk, with apparent utter disregard for the agony she was going through.

  “Surprise? But Gordon….” How she hated to speak his first name. “You said I should call you tomorrow, meaning today, and here I am.”

  “I’m delighted,” Gordon said.

  She worked her way through a long pause in the conversation. Delighted? He’s torturing me. She forced herself to get on with it.

  “Have you thought about the matter we discussed yesterday?”

  “A great deal, Victoria.”

  Again there was another long pause, this time at his end of the line.

  “Did you make any decisions?” Victoria blurted.

  It was, she knew, a statement of desperation. If he had made a positive decision regarding Michael, it would have foreclosed on her plan. She had not, of course, put much stock in such a miracle happening.

  “I really feel we must discuss this further.” There was a long pause. “Face to face.”

  “I was hoping you would have, you know, reconsidered….” She felt tongue-tied for a moment.

  “I’m mulling it… Victoria. And I am looking forward to our further discussion.”

  “Yes, of course,” Victoria said, forcing a sense of pleasant expectation. She tried to put a smile in her voice.

  “I have an idea, Victoria. This is very fortuitous. I have some errands to do that will take me in your direction. We can talk in the car. I have to sign some papers in my lawyer’s office in Tarrytown. Should last no more than fifteen minutes. And I can have you back in a couple of hours. Why not meet me at the north end of the Country Mall parking area? Say about ten? Does that suit you?”

  “If it will help, Gordon. Of course, I’ll be there.”

  “Wonderful, Victoria. I’m really looking forward to our discussion.”

  “So am I,” Victoria said. She slammed down the phone. “Bastard,” she cried aloud, hearing the echo ramble through the empty house.

  ***

  Yesterday had been a nightmare for Victoria. Michael came home from school pale and depressed, his eyes swollen with crying, which greatly upset Emily. She was also involved in her own major crisis. She had been picked for the chorus for the annual Easter musical play, which might not have been a problem, except that her friend Annie was picked for a starring role. Both children needed big-time soothing, and she had saved Michael for last.

  She had picked up Josh’s message about having dinner at Evie’s house, which stirred up some glowing embers. Evie, in Victoria’s mind, was a train wreck waiting to happen and Josh could refuse her nothing. She was a stone around his neck. Nevertheless, Victoria was loath to interfere. The bond between them was too strong. At the very least, she had managed to diminish Evie’s influence on the children. For that she was thankful. But anything that went on between Evie and Josh was worrisome.

  Despite her attempt at tolerance and understanding, learning about this dinner through the answering machine irritated her. Then she remembered she had cut off her cell phone, which mollified her somewhat. In the end, she was thankful that he had not come home to dinner. She would have been hard-pressed to keep her silence about her own stupid decision and how it had backfired. Josh would have been justly appalled at Tatum’s incredible proposition and her equally incredible reaction to it.

  She looked at her sniffling daughter. “Emily, you can’t think you’ve failed because one of your friends succeeded. Besides, she’s your best friend. You should take joy in her success.”

  “I’m as good as she is,” Emily whined.

  “What would she have felt if you were picked?”

  “She’d be jealous.”

  “Like you are.”

  “I’m not jealous. I’m mad.”

  “Because you’re jealous.”

  “Mommy, you just don’t understand.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  It had reached an impasse. Nevertheless, Victoria embraced her daughter and sent her off to her room to do her homework. Then, with trepidation, she entered Michael’s room. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with swollen eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t think it would go that way.”

  “He’s going to expel me. I know he will. Why should I get the blame? Madeline also broke the rules.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on her son’s chest. “There’s no sense in discussing the merits of the case. Whatever happens, you did the right thing. You came forward. That took great courage. I’m very proud of you.”

  “Mr. Tatum wasn’t,” he murmured.

  “It will be all right. I promise you.”

  “No it won’t. Mr. Tatum is very strict. He’ll expel me. I know he will.”

  She brushed the hair off his forehead and searched her mind for some comforting comment
. “Telling the truth never hurt anybody.”

  “Well, it hurt me,” Michael said.

  “No it did not. Trust me, Michael. I love you with all my heart and soul. I will not let Mr. Tatum expel you. No way.”

  “How can you stop him?”

  “That’s my job, Michael.”

  He turned his gaze away from her. She knew her credibility with him was at stake, and she was determined to protect that aspect of her parenting with everything she had.

  “Just don’t do anything that will make the kids laugh at me.”

  “Trust Mom, darling. I promise.”

  Michael shrugged. She watched him for a long time. Tears seeped out of the corners of his eyes. She was certain that her pain was as palpable and intense as his. She also knew that she had crossed a Rubicon. Making good on her promise was now etched in stone.

  “I have one small favor to ask, Michael. Would you grant me that?” She took his hand, kissed his fingers, and looked into his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  She felt she was standing in quicksand and it was pulling her further into a morass.

  “Just don’t tell Daddy. Okay? I don’t mean a forever thing. I mean just until this blows over.”

  It was, she knew, a violation of the family ethical code. Here she was nibbling away at her vaunted morality. Silence, she once had preached, was also a lie.

  “If I get expelled it won’t be a secret,” he reasoned, accurately.

  “You won’t. As soon as we’re out of the woods, you can tell Daddy all you want. He has the right to know. But not yet. Okay?”

  He nodded and she held him in her arms and kissed him.

  “God, I love you, Michael,” she said. “Nothing bad is going to happen to my little boy.”

  She was doubly thankful that Josh was not around. It would have been an awful complication. She got into bed early, hoping she could sleep. After a long bout of restlessness in which her mind worked overtime, she drifted off into a dead slumber.

  The next thing she knew, Josh was shaking her awake.

  “I’d like to talk, Victoria. It’s important.”

  His voice seemed to come from far away.