The War of the Roses: The Children

by Warren Adler

  “I know Daddy.”

  “Honey, let me speak to Michael again.”

  It was obvious that they were using a telephone extension out of earshot of his wife and Mrs. Stewart. Michael got on the phone again.

  “Does Mom know you’re talking to me?”

  “No,” Michael said, but his reply seemed tentative. “But I did tell her I would tell you about Gramma.”

  “And what did she say to that?”

  “She was very angry.”

  “Was Mom there when your grandmother said those bad things?”

  “Yes.”

  He felt as if a hot poker had been shoved into his guts. He began to shake.

  “And she did nothing to stop her?”

  “After… after she told Gramma to shut her mouth.”

  “After?” he repeated calmly, understanding Michael’s hidden message. Victoria had let it be said and her mother had been the instrument of the revelation.

  “So Gramma has been there all along?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “It was like Aunt Evie, Dad. I didn’t tell Mom about that, either.” Michael again paused in his explanation. “I know you don’t like Gramma and I know Mom doesn’t like Aunt Evie.”

  “It’s alright, son. I’m not blaming you. I understand.”

  “Are you mad at me, Dad?”

  “God no, Michael. And you did the right thing about telling me.”

  “I figured that since Mom knew about Aunt Evie it was all right to tell about Gramma.”

  “You shouldn’t have been asked to bear that burden.” He wondered if his son understood what he meant. He was a fool not to understand that Victoria would reach out for her mother in a time of extreme stress.

  “Do you believe your dad is a bad person, Michael?” he asked gently.

  “You’re my dad. Of course not.”

  “But it’s true that I did a bad thing to Mommy.” He felt a sob begin in his chest. Did he really understand what it meant to lay with another woman, he wondered? “But I do love her and am very sorry for what I did.”

  “And you did promise you wouldn’t do it anymore. Didn’t you, Dad?”

  Michael’s comment did not surprise him. Josh was learning fast. Children could ferret out lies and misdeeds a lot better and faster than adults. He was also certain that they understood in some primitive but compelling form the “bad” things that Mrs. Stewart had said about him.

  “Yes I did, son. I promised I wouldn’t ever do it again.”

  What he needed most of all was time to think this out. It was obvious to him that conditions had changed and the children were caught in a parental crossfire.

  “I want you to promise me something, Michael.”

  “Sure, Dad.”

  “Be a good boy. Try not to make things worse than they are. When I come Sunday, we’ll straighten everything out. And tell Emily to be a good girl.”

  “I will, Dad… and Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you going to bring Aunt Evie?”

  He felt caught short by the question and pondered it for a few moments.

  “Of course, Michael. Aunt Evie will be there.”

  ***

  As promised, the phone conversations with the children on both Friday and Saturday were short and deliberately routine. He had half-expected Victoria to call him at Evie’s, but no calls came, which he interpreted as ominous. Victoria would not let the information about Evie’s presence in the house during his two-week stay go unchallenged.

  On the other hand, he was immersed in what he considered a far more serious dilemma. His mother-in-law was a menace. She was obviously bent on alienating him from his children at all costs and continuing her sick influence over Victoria. The irony was that Victoria knew her predilections, had fought them all her life, and yet was trapped in the relationship and unwilling or unable to sever it.

  To keep the peace, he had tolerated the relationship. She was, after all, Victoria’s mother. His feeling, heightened by the fact that he had lost his own mother at an early age, was that there was something sacred about the very idea of motherhood. He interpreted Victoria’s attachment to her mother, however strained and neurotic, as a natural need.

  Victoria had confided to him about the emotional meeting she had had with her father before he died. She had also explained that she could not find it in her heart to forgive him. It seemed to weigh on her heavily, although she had admitted that she could not summon up anything approaching her mother’s hatred of him. In fact, all she had felt was pity. The poor man had married the wrong woman and it had obviously ruined his life.

  With a great deal of trepidation, Josh drove the Lexus into the garage. Victoria, looking paler than when he had seen her last, met him in the hallway as he brought in his suitcases. Normally, her baggage would be packed and ready to load. There were no suitcases in sight.

  “You’re late,” she said.

  “Traffic,” he replied.

  Her annoyance was palpable, but he ignored it.

  “I hope it was a good two weeks,” he said pleasantly.

  She did not offer an answer. Instead she said:

  “We have to talk.”

  “About what?” he asked.

  “The situation.”

  “I thought things were going well,” he replied, offering what he hoped was a look of total innocence.

  “Hardly,” Victoria said coldly.

  “Where are the children?” he asked. Normally, they would be present to greet him. This was, indeed, an ominous sign.

  “I sent them to the movies.” Victoria said coldly.

  “Alone?”

  “With my mother.”

  He followed her to the den, where she moved to the bar and poured herself a stiff drink.

  “You?” she asked.

  He shook his head in the negative and she moved to one of the chairs. She took a deep sip of her drink. He was standing in the center of the room, waiting for her to make the opening comment.

  “I can’t trust you, Josh,” she said. “Aside from being an unfaithful bastard, you’re a sneak, a liar, and a cheat. You’ve disappointed me in all respects. But the very worst thing you’re guilty of is using our children as pawns in your little game. In my opinion, this alone would disqualify you as a fit father.”

  He listened with his eyes averted. He had expected something of the sort, although the depth of her anger and the suddenness of her attack stunned him. It had caught him off guard.

  “I think I will have that drink,” he said, pouring himself some scotch in a highball glass, then taking a deep swallow.

  “You must think I’m a naïve fool,” she said, her lips tight, her look hard. “Tell me, Josh, when does the fat girl arrive? And don’t look startled. I’m sure your little partner in the conspiracy has already informed you of my mother’s presence when I’m in charge.”

  “Makes us even, Victoria,” he said, inflamed by the derisive way she portrayed Michael.

  “Hardly even. My mother obeyed my rules to the letter. Madame Obesity and you violated all of them. How could you, Josh? How could you possibly have allowed that to happen? She’s made gluttons out of our children and it shows. Food is love, is it? I’m sure he told you what he did at school. I don’t believe we’ve heard the end of this. It won’t be like the other. This time I’m going to let the chips fall where they may.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Never mind that,” she said, sipping her drink. “It is obvious that things can’t go on the way they have been.”

  “Quite obvious,” Josh said.

  Victoria tossed off the rest of her drink. Anger and bitterness had transformed her. His affair with Angela had wounded her in a way he could not have imagi
ned, and for that he was sorry. There was no way to rationalize that. She was on her way to becoming a harridan like her mother. But he forced himself to hold back much of his anger.

  At that moment, he heard sounds coming from the front door and the voices of his children.

  “Did he put up much of a fuss?” Mrs. Stewart said as she entered the den. When she saw Josh, she stopped in her tracks.

  “Well, that answers that question,” she snapped just as the children came into the room and embraced their father.

  “Where’s Aunt Evie?” Emily asked.

  “She’ll be here soon,” Josh said.

  “Children,” Victoria said. “Why don’t you go upstairs? Dad and I have lots to talk about. Okay, kids?”

  “Okay, Dad?” Michael asked his father.

  “I’ve already given you permission, children,” Victoria said harshly.

  He could feel Emily observe his reaction.

  “Sure, kids. You go upstairs and watch TV. We’ll talk later.”

  The children exchanged confused glances with their parents and with each other, then turned and moved slowly out of the room. Josh was struck at that moment with the realization that the removal of the children from their proximity in no way hindered their knowledge of what was transpiring. They were deluding themselves if they believed that the children were not fully aware of the conflict going on in their home. In fact, he was beginning to believe that they were more highly active participants in their fate than he had imagined.

  “There’s no need for you to stay,” Josh said to his mother-in-law, who looked to Victoria for guidance. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “You stay, Mother,” Victoria said. “He has no authority in this house. In fact, legally speaking, he has no ownership.”

  “I have no intention of leaving,” Mrs. Stewart said with haughty disdain, glancing at her daughter who seemed to offer confirmation of her stand.

  Victoria paced the room, turning finally and facing him.

  “Really, Josh, your presence here is very disruptive. It does not bode well for an amicable settlement between us. You’ve caused enough difficulties already.”

  “Difficulties? You and your mother are the culprits here. The children were perfectly happy during their stay with me.”

  “Happy? You mean indulged.”

  “I know what I mean.”

  “I’d call the police if I were you, Victoria,” her mother said smugly. “He’s trespassing.”

  “Good idea,” Josh said. “Let them be the judge of who is really trespassing.”

  “Well then….” She turned to her daughter. “Call it spousal abuse.”

  “What role would you like to take, Victoria? Abuser or abusee?”

  “You really should go, Josh,” Victoria said, apparently adopting a more conciliatory tone. “This entire discussion is counterproductive.”

  By then, Josh had mentally dug in his heels. He was not, under any circumstances, going to leave the house. If Victoria sensed that, she showed no signs of retreating. Shrugging, she moved toward the bar and poured herself another drink.

  “My daughter is right,” Mrs. Stewart said. “You’re not needed here. Haven’t you done enough to hurt this family? Tell you the truth, I knew this would happen someday. It was completely predictable.”

  “Please, Mother. Not now,” Victoria said. Her face had flushed and her articulation seemed to be getting thicker.

  “I was the only one who saw it coming,” Mrs. Stewart continued. “Aside from your dubious background, Josh, I could sense that you were on your way to infidelity. Experience is a valuable teacher.”

  “Can’t you shut her up, Victoria?”

  “She has a right to her opinion,” Victoria snapped. Josh sensed that her response was more emotional than logical. She was simply letting her mother be the battering ram. Josh turned to Mrs. Stewart.

  “Your rights are irrelevant,” Josh said, sucking in a deep breath. “You are a bitter woman with a hateful, twisted mind. At this juncture, you are beyond toleration.” He turned toward Victoria. “I will not have my children exposed to this terrible woman.”

  “It’s in their blood, Victoria. Heed my words. Your father’s own infidelity and desertion proved the point. Never once had he ever inquired about us. Never once did he ever see his child again,” Mrs. Stewart said, her bitterness permeating her speech. Her face, Josh observed, seemed to have turned to stone. “Actually, it was probably a blessing.”

  She was comparing him to a deserting father, which inflamed him.

  “Victoria, why don’t you tell this woman the truth?” he asked casually. He saw the fear in her eyes.

  “What is he talking about?” Mrs. Stewart snapped.

  “The truth about seeing her father.” He turned toward Victoria. “Tell her, my dear. Tell her the little secret you kept from her.”

  Josh walked calmly over to the bar and poured himself another drink.

  “What is he talking about, Victoria?” Mrs. Stewart asked, pointedly searching her daughter’s face. “Your father? What secrets?”

  “You rotten shit,” Victoria said through pursed lips.

  “I don’t understand. What is going on here?” Mrs. Stewart asked, frowning.

  “He’s making up stories. Don’t listen to him.”

  “What stories?” Mrs. Stewart probed.

  “The story about your daughter’s visit to her father. Tell her, Victoria.”

  “I won’t listen to this,” Victoria said, moving to an opposite corner of the room, turning her back on both of them.

  “You see, he was dying in this hospital in Boston,” Josh said with a quick glance at his wife. “According to Victoria, he had some rather unpleasant things to say about you, Mrs. Stewart.”

  “You saw him, Victoria?” Mrs. Stewart asked angrily. The blood had drained from her face. “And you never told me?”

  “What purpose would that serve?” Victoria replied, turning to face her. “It would only have upset you.”

  “But you knew how I felt!” Mrs. Stewart persisted.

  “He was still my father. He found me and asked me to come.”

  “He abandoned you is what he did. You had no right to see him without consulting me.”

  “You would have said no, Mother.”

  “You’re damned right I would have,” Mrs. Stewart snapped, her voice croaking with anger. “You had no right to reward him with your presence. He never sent a dime for your support. He was a disgusting, fornicating, unfaithful bastard.” She was fuming with rage now, on the point of hyperventilating. “And you were an ungrateful daughter to have honored him with your presence. You should have cursed him, spat on him, insulted him!”

  “He was dying, Mother.”

  “You were disloyal, Victoria. You betrayed me.”

  Victoria turned to Josh.

  “Look what you’ve done. Was that necessary?”

  “You’re the big truth monger here, Victoria,” Josh said.

  “You are beneath contempt,” Victoria hissed, turning to her mother, whose anger remained at white heat.

  “Your cheating husband corrupted you,” Mrs. Stewart cried, “He probably put you up to it.”

  “Tell her how long ago it was when you saw your father, Victoria,” Josh said, chuckling. He turned toward Mrs. Stewart. “She was still a college girl, Mommy Dearest. I wasn’t even in the picture.”

  Mrs. Stewart’s bottom lip began to quiver. Josh had never seen her cry and was actually looking forward to it.

  “Mother, please. He wanted to see me. We spoke. He told me that I was named after Queen Victoria. I felt nothing for him. And I never forgave him. Not in my heart. Not now. Not ever. I swear it.”

  Mrs. Stewart collapsed into a chair. Victoria ran to the bar and poured a glass of water, which she bro
ught to her mother. Mrs. Stewart waved it away.

  “And I never for one moment stopped hating him,” Victoria said to her mother.

  “That is a lie, Victoria, and you know it,” Josh said. “You told me yourself. You didn’t hate him. You pitied him.”

  “Must you?” Victoria screeched.

  Josh turned toward Mrs. Stewart and continued.

  “He told your daughter he couldn’t live with you. He had to escape from you. Who could blame him for that? How bad was he really?” Josh paused, knowing that his next statement would inflame her. “After all, he did make an honest woman of you.”

  Mrs. Stewart looked as if she would erupt and fly through the ceiling. But the energy of her anger quickly collapsed and she seemed to crumple into the chair.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Victoria said.

  “Yes I did. She has attempted to turn my children against me. And you allowed that.”

  “All she did was tell the children the truth about their father,” Victoria cried.

  “I was unfaithful to you, not to them.”

  “You savaged all of us. Can’t you see that? You’re the one who destroyed this family. Not her.”

  Victoria knew exactly where his vulnerability lay. He had no illusions about his guilt. His penance was unfolding before his eyes and would haunt him until the day he died. But it was unfair to scar the next generation with his offense. Just as it was unfair for him to be scarred by the actions of his parents and, he thought magnanimously, unfair for Victoria to be scarred by the actions of her parents.

  “She has to share the guilt, Victoria.”

  “That is ridiculous.”

  “That woman has destroyed your ability to ever forgive me.”

  “You betrayed me! She never did. At least she’s been consistent. I’ve always known where she stood. In your case, I was deceived.”

  Even in the midst of this bitter exchange, he could contemplate the consequences of his act. But he knew the rock-bottom irrevocable truth: he and Victoria were the walking wounded, still in pain from the festering unhealed scar tissue caused by the injuries inflicted by their parents. What he was seeking, he knew, was some way to prevent this from happening to his children.

  “You are one vindictive bastard,” Victoria said, suddenly erupting. She walked across the room and with her fist bashed aside the glass case that held the lone Staffordshire of the boxer Cribb. Both the glass and Cribb crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.