The War of the Roses: The Children
Page 25
“What is it, darling?” Victoria said after they had bent down to kiss him. Josh and Victoria were holding hands, but it did not seem to him as contrived as yesterday.
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Michael said.
“The doctor tells me you’re not eating,” Victoria said.
“And the nurse says you’ve just been sleeping. Tell us what’s wrong, Michael?” Josh asked.
“Nothing.”
“We want to get you out of here, take you with us.”
Michael turned away from them. Josh noted that his eyes were filled with tears.
“What is it, son?” Josh pleaded.
“Tell us,” Victoria begged.
Michael mumbled some words that they could not hear.
“What did you say, darling?” Victoria asked. Josh put his ear close to the boy’s mouth.
“You’re fooling,” he heard the boy say. Josh turned to Victoria.
“He says we’re fooling.”
Without waiting for her to comment, he turned back to Michael.
“No we’re not,” Josh said, clearing his throat.
“You are,” Michael said, struggling to speak. “I know you are.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, again turning to Victoria.
There was a long silence as Victoria and Josh looked at each other. He could see Victoria’s lips trembling. Earlier, at breakfast, she had maintained an expression that denied what had happened the night before. It baffled him, but he did not push it, concentrating his attention on Emily, who had offered enthusiastic reviews about her ice cream sundae experience with Evie. Victoria had seemed distant and disinterested. She was not disinterested now. Frown lines etched her forehead. He continued to watch her face, waiting for her to react.
“It’s the truth,” she whispered. Then she turned to Michael. “You’re right, darling. We were fooling.” She sat at the edge of the bed and caressed her son’s face.
Josh was confused by her assertion. Tears spilled over the boy’s eyes. He looked utterly devastated.
“We were fooling, Michael,” Victoria repeated. “Please forgive us for that.” She paused. Her nostrils dilated. “Would you believe me if I said we were not fooling now?” She reached toward Josh and took his hand. She brought it up to her lips and kissed it. Michael’s gaze shifted from his mother’s face to his father’s. He seemed wary. “Would you, Michael?”
Wearily, he shook his head in the negative.
“It’s true, my darling boy….” Victoria was too overcome to continue.
“It’s true, son,” Josh said. “Please believe us.”
Victoria, unable to speak, nodded her head.
“No,” Michael sighed. “It’s not.”
“What can we do to convince you?” Josh asked.
Michael said nothing. His shoulders shook with sobs. They called the nurse.
“What’s wrong?” the nurse asked.
“We’re not sure.”
“Maybe you should go outside for awhile. He seems very agitated. He might need a sedative.”
They moved to the waiting room and sat side by side on the couch. Victoria’s head rested on his shoulders.
“I hope you meant that,” Josh said.
“They’ve manipulated us, Josh.”
“Yes they have,” he agreed.
She pursed her lips and nodded.
“They’ve got a point. It’s not just about us.” She was silent for a while. “I know what my parents did to me.”
“And me. What our parents did to me and Evie.”
“Do you think he believes us?”
“If it’s the truth, he will.”
He lifted her face to his and kissed her on the lips. A man had entered the room and seeing them, quickly left.
“We must tell Emily,” Josh said.
“Evie is bringing her here after ballet lessons,” Victoria said.
“Does she know?” Josh asked. “About us? Last night?”
“Not yet. But she was awake when I came back to the room this morning.”
***
When they went back into Michael’s room, he was sleeping.
“I gave him a sedative and called the doctor,” the gray-haired nurse said.
“What’s bothering that boy?” the doctor asked when he arrived. Michael was asleep.
“I’m afraid we are, Doctor,” Victoria said. She explained the situation.
“All I can do is deal with physical things,” the doctor said. “Which is not to say that I can discount the effect of emotions. It’s just not my area. Perhaps a child psychologist might help.”
They sat by the bed through most of the day. In the afternoon, the doctor came and examined him. The sedative had begun to wear off. Michael was awake.
Evie brought Emily back from her ballet lessons and she bounded into Michael’s room full of high spirits and enthusiasm.
“We’ve got a surprise, Mikey,” she giggled.
“What sort of a surprise?” Josh asked.
“I’m not telling.”
She lifted herself to the edge of Michael’s bed. It struck Josh as strange that she had not noticed his weakened condition.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mikey?”
He nodded.
“You’ll see.”
“When?” Victoria asked. She looked at Josh and shrugged.
“Soon,” Emily giggled. Then she said: “Aunt Evie took me past the house today. What a mess.”
“She did?” Josh asked, surprised.
“Did you go inside?” Victoria said.
Emily nodded.
“My room and your room are fine, Mikey.” She glanced at her parents. “I saw Mommy and Daddy’s room. It still stinks from smoke.”
There it was, Josh thought, Mommy and Daddy’s room. Message received. He looked toward Michael. His eyes were locked into Emily’s.
“The insurance adjusters tell me we can all be back in it in a couple of months,” Victoria said. “I’ve called a real estate man to rent us a house for that time. Then we can all get back to normal.”
Josh hadn’t realized the extent of her activity. She hadn’t consulted him, but then she never had. Nevertheless, he was pleased by her action.
“Isn’t that great?” Josh said, directing his question to Michael.
“We’ll be altogether again, Mikey,” Emily said. “You and me and Mommy and Daddy.”
Michael and Emily exchanged glances. They were in it together, fighting for the survival of their world. He had been dead right. It had been their conspiracy all along. Children know. When that universe falls apart, most hover helplessly like boats with unfurled sails drifting in the tide. Some, like their children, stand and fight. Now it was confirmed. However convoluted, their strategy had worked. Victoria looked at him and nodded, as if she, too, had undergone the same epiphany.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Emily jumped off the bed and opened it a crack.
“You can come in now,” Emily cried.
Evie came in, leading two men in tuxedos. Each pushed a cart on which were a number of silver covers. They set up a table for four and an elaborate tray on Michael’s bed. He sat up abruptly, stronger now, his color returned, his eyes alert.
“What’s happening here?” the gray-haired nurse said, smiling broadly and winking at Evie as if she were part of it.
“Tell us, Aunt Evie,” Michael said. Even his voice was stronger.
“Now you be careful, young man,” the gray-haired nurse said.
“I’m hungry,” Michael cried.
“Me, too,” Emily said.
“Tell us,” Michael demanded.
The two waiters smiled and removed the silver covers.
“Now Emily, repeat after me,” Evie said. “That’s bœuf
bourguignon.”
“Bœuf bourguignon,” Emily repeated, stumbling over the accent. Michael laughed.
“And that’s lots of healthy vegetables, choux de Bruxelles, haricots verts à la provençale, chou-fleur blanchi.”
She pointed out each dish with chubby fingers.
Emily tried repeating Evie’s words, collapsing in hysterical laughter. Michael mimicked the words, making funny faces.
“And after all that we’re having mousseline au chocolat,” Evie said.
Josh looked at Victoria, who was smiling broadly, obviously reveling in the sight of her happy son.
“Let me,” Victoria cried, repeating the words in a terrible accent, “mousseline au chocolat.”
Josh’s eyes filled with tears.
“Food is love,” Evie said.
“Not quite,” Josh said, embracing his wife’s shoulder. “But it will do for now.”
More Thrillers from Warren Adler
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Also by Warren Adler
FICTION
Banquet Before Dawn
Blood Ties
Cult
Empty Treasures
Flanagan’s Dolls
Funny Boys
Madeline’s Miracles
Mourning Glory
Natural Enemies
Private Lies
Random Hearts
Residue
Senator Love
Target Churchill
The Casanova Embrace
The David Embrace
The Henderson Equation
The Housewife Blues
The Serpent’s Bite
The War of the Roses
The War of the Roses: The Children
The Womanizer
Trans-Siberian Express
Treadmill
Twilight Child
Undertow
We Are Holding the President Hostage
THE FIONA FITZGERALD MYSTERY SERIES
American Quartet
American Sextet
Death of a Washington Madame
Immaculate Deception
Senator Love
The Ties That Bind
The Witch of Watergate
Washington Masquerade
SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS
Jackson Hole: Uneasy Eden
Never Too Late for Love
New York Echoes
New York Echoes 2
The Sunset Gang
PLAYS
Dead in the Water
Libido
The Sunset Gang: The Musical
The War of the Roses
Windmills
About the Author
Acclaimed author, playwright, poet, and essayist Warren Adler is best known for The War of the Roses, his masterpiece fictionalization of a macabre divorce adapted into the BAFTA- and Golden Globe–nominated hit film starring Danny DeVito, Michael Douglas, and Kathleen Turner. Adler’s internationally acclaimed stage adaptation of the novel will premiere on Broadway in 2015–2016.
Adler has also optioned and sold film rights for a number of his works, including Random Hearts (starring Harrison Ford and Kristen Scott Thomas) and The Sunset Gang (produced by Linda Lavin for PBS’s American Playhouse series starring Jerry Stiller, Uta Hagen, Harold Gould, and Doris Roberts), which garnered Doris Roberts an Emmy nomination for Best Supporting Actress in a Miniseries. In recent development are the Broadway production of The War of the Roses, to be produced by Jay and Cindy Gutterman; The War of the Roses: The Children (Grey Eagle Films and Permut Presentations), a feature film adaptation of the sequel to Adler’s iconic divorce story; Target Churchill (Grey Eagle Films and Solution Entertainment); Residue (Grey Eagle Films); Mourning Glory, to be adapted by Karen Leigh Hopkins; and Capitol Crimes (Grey Eagle Films and Sennet Entertainment), a television series based on his Fiona Fitzgerald mystery series.
Adler’s works have been translated into more than 25 languages, including his staged version of The War of the Roses, which has opened to spectacular reviews worldwide. Adler has taught creative writing seminars at New York University and has lectured on creative writing, film and television adaptation, and electronic publishing. He lives with his wife, Sunny, a former magazine editor, in Manhattan.