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Authors: Cynthia Freeman

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BOOK: Seasons of the Heart
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“Sure, Mom. That’s easy for you to say, since you know I’m dating Peter Newman, who you think is just perfect for me. But I’ll bet you wouldn’t be so happy if I brought home a rock singer.”

Knowing Evie was trying to hurt her, Ann tried to remain calm. “Listen to me, Evie. Come home tonight and you and I can spend the evening together. And tomorrow, we’ll have a lovely day, the three of us. Try not to be bitter, and to forgive your father. We have forgiven each other.”

Evie had finally run out of things to say. She had no alternative but to capitulate. Her mother was right. The two of them were all she had.

Ann felt drained when she hung up. The phone rang again, and this time she was sure it was Adam, but Phillip’s voice greeted her instead.

“How are you?” she said with more warmth than she had felt since the day he left. “I’m happy to hear from you. I think it might be a good idea for us to celebrate Thanksgiving together. You know, Evie is very angry at us both, and I thought a family dinner might help cheer her.”

“I don’t know. I’ve spoken to her every day and I’ve just about run out of things to say. She’s been refusing to see me—so maybe you’re right about tomorrow.”

“We’ll have to be patient with her, Phillip. She’s terribly opposed to the divorce, to say nothing of our finding new partners. We’ll just have to take it a step at a time. She’ll have to accept that, unfortunately, couples do grow apart. It’s painful growing up, but it’s more painful growing old, isn’t it, Phillip?”

He sighed. “How right you are.” Then, as if just hearing her, he added, “What was that you said about new partners? Is there someone new in your life, Ann? You stayed a long time in New York.”

“Yes, Phillip, there is someone.”

He felt a twinge of, what—jealousy? Probably that was to be expected. Ann had been his wife for twenty-five years. “Well, I think that’s wonderful, Ann,” he managed to say. “If anyone deserves happiness, you do.”

“Thank you, Phillip. It means a lot to me to have you say that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up, wishing she might have felt the kind of passion for him she did for Adam. If she had, he might never have left. She would never have let him go.

The next day the three of them sat at the dinner table as they had at every holiday since Evie was born, but this time the tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Evie refused to give an inch.

Watching apprehensively as Phillip carved the turkey, Ann wondered what he was thinking. Certainly Evie’s mood must be as upsetting to him as it was to her.

“Evie, would you like light or dark?” he asked.

Evie sighed irritably. “You know I only like white, Daddy. Have you forgotten so soon?”

Ann looked on, hardly believing the situation had deteriorated to this in so little time. This wasn’t their Evie, who always bubbled with cheerful chatter about her friends and school. But, damn it, how could they reach her? Ann decided it would take a miracle and, as none seemed likely, she was happy when the day finally came to an end and Peter came to drive Evie back to Berkeley.

Grateful that Ann, if no one else, seemed to understand, Phillip left the house shortly afterward, eager to see Linda. Linda’s holiday had been equally bleak, spent dining with acquaintances who, like herself, had no families to visit. She was careful not to complain, however, and was sympathetic with Phillip when he told her about Evie.

Phillip felt both relieved and slightly guilty when he left the house, feelings that were shared by all of the adults involved where Evie was concerned. They said nothing, but were all secretly relieved when she was back in Berkeley studying for her exams and too busy to make trips home.

Ann spent the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas flying back and forth to New York, trying to get ready for the holiday, seeing Adam, and still not getting too far behind at work. She wondered whether she would have to close her office when she married him. Well, she could postpone making that decision. In the meantime there was a much harder task to be dealt with. When Evie came back for Christmas, Ann would have to tell her about Adam. She had no choice. He had insisted on flying west on Christmas Eve. Adam wanted Ann to be his wife, and both he and Ann saw no reason not to tell Evie as soon as possible.

Although it bolstered Ann’s courage to have him with her for the holiday, it did force the issue.

“Darling, do you really think this is a good idea?” Ann asked the night before he flew out.

“It’s not a question of good or bad. There’s no alternative. Your daughter has to know that I exist, that you and I are going to be married, and that she is not going to come between us. It won’t be easy, Ann, but if we approach her honestly she will eventually accept it. Trust me, darling.”

She did trust him, but then again, Adam didn’t know Evie. They had decided to meet at the Fairmont and spend some time alone before driving over to the house. Ann just told Evie she had some last-minute shopping.

Adam arrived promptly at five and insisted on ordering champagne, saying that there was nothing better than fortifying yourself before a difficult scene.

Ann’s hand trembled as she accepted the glass. “She’s going to hate me, Adam. I just know it.”

“No, she won’t.”

“But what am I going to say to her? I have to warn her. I can’t just bring you home.”

“Ask her to join us here. Say you want to talk to her. If things don’t go well, I’ll stay here tonight.”

Ann took a deep breath and dialed. “Evie, I’m so tired, maybe you’d join me downtown for dinner. We can meet in the lobby of the Fairmont.”

“Okay, Mom. Anything you say.”

“I need to talk to you—” Ann began, but Evie interrupted.

“I love you, Mom. We’ll have all night to gossip. Ciao!”

Ann hung up and thanked God. Evie sounded more like her old self.

It was Evie’s roommate Leslie who was responsible for the improvement. By the time Evie had come back after Thanksgiving, Leslie had gotten sick to death of hearing about Evie’s problems: her unfaithful father, her absent mother, and her grandfather’s death, until finally she let Evie have it.

“Look,” she exploded, “you’re not the only kid whose parents are getting divorced. The truth is that you’re luckier than most because they stayed together until you went off to college. What the hell are you griping about? I walked in one day and found my father in bed with the maid. And my mother has been married three times and I liked all my stepfathers just fine. Wake up, Evie. You have your whole life ahead of you. Start living it.”

Evie hadn’t been ready for all of Leslie’s advice, but it did make her wonder just how much she really could change her parents’ lives. And with that realization, she began to lose her belligerence. Instead, she began to feel helpless, though Ann took her change of mood as a more hopeful sign than it really was.

They sat across from each other in the Cirque Room. Adam was waiting upstairs. Ann’s courage almost failed her, but finally, fortified by a double martini, she said, “Evie, darling, I know that all of this has been a shock, but would you really want your father and me to live unhappily together until you gave us permission to do what we really wanted?”

Evie twirled the straw in her glass. “What are you trying to tell me, Mom?”

“The truth is, Evie, that I’ve met someone too.”

There was no mistaking Evie’s stunned expression as she stared at her mother. How could a woman who had professed to love her husband for twenty-five years find a new lover in less than a month? Or has it been much longer than that?

“I hope you’ll be very happy,” Evie said in a cold, flat voice.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Sure, Mom. If that’s what you want, I’m not going to stand in your way.”

“It’s going to be wonderful, Evie,” Ann said. She was crying softly now. “Please believe me—it’s going to be wonderful.”

Evie didn’t believe her. Evie didn’t believe that anything was ever going to be right again. Their family had been destroyed. But if this was what her parents wanted, so be it.

“ … love him,” Ann was saying.

“What?” Evie snapped. “I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re going to love Adam.”

“Oh? His name is Adam. Sounds rather Biblical,” she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Evidently she succeeded, for Ann continued with genuine enthusiasm. “Darling, I want you to meet him. He’s flown out for Christmas and he’s waiting upstairs for you.”

“Oh? Well, that was nice of him.”

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me. Now let’s go up.”

As they rode the elevator to his floor, Evie wondered why she was going along with this. Standing before Adam a few minutes later, an artificial smile affixed to her lips, she knew she would never accept the fact this man was sleeping with her mother. And when they got married, what was she supposed to call him: Dad? Mr. Gayne? Adam?

“We’re going to be very good friends, Evie,” Adam was saying. “And I always want you to come to me if you need something.”

I won’t!
she wanted to scream.
You’re not my father and you’re not my friend. You’re just my mother’s … gigolo. And I don’t like you—not one little bit, even if you are Mr. Bigshot.

But she didn’t say any of that. Her answer was an almost inaudible “Thank you.”

Christmas day went unexpectedly well. A very polite and subdued Evie had lunch in Chinatown with Ann and Adam. The next day she finally met Linda and chatted with her in the lobby of the Fairmont while Phillip stood by, waiting for an explosion that never came.

Evie seemed delighted with her presents. Just before New Year’s, she cheerfully packed up to join Leslie and her roommate’s new stepfather in Vail for some skiing.

The moment she left, Ann and Adam decided to fly east for New Year’s. Adam went a couple of days early to arrange a party to introduce Ann to his friends. When Phillip called to say goodbye, Ann was able to wish him a happy New Year with all her heart. For the first time it really seemed as if things would work out. They knew that Evie had not totally accepted the divorce, but she was no longer overtly hostile and they hoped with time she would realize they all were better off this way, and that Linda and Adam would in fact enrich her life.

Ann flew to New York with a light heart to find Adam’s apartment decorated for a gala New Year’s Eve celebration.

For the party, Ann made herself more glamorous than she had ever dreamed possible. Adam had taken her to Valentino’s, where she had bought a stunning black velvet sheath with one shoulder drawn up into a wide, pink satin ruche. She had her hair done that afternoon by Mr. Kenneth himself, who had just finished doing Jackie Kennedy’s.

The evening was a grand success, and Adam’s friends accepted Ann not just as Adam’s fiancée, but for herself.

At twelve, the little orchestra broke into “Auld Lang Syne,” and Adam pulled her into his arms, kissing her as though there were no one else in the room.

“Ann, dearest—you’ve made me so happy,” he whispered in her ear.

At last the future seemed to be in their hands.

Chapter Forty-One

A
CROSS THE COUNTRY, EVIE
Coulter was immersed in a drama of her own—one with far less hopeful prospects. She and Peter had arrived home from Vail late New Year’s Day, and, refusing to go home, Evie had insisted that he drop her off at the sorority house. Peter had been trying to get her to come to a party at Chuck Swanson’s place in Berkeley—all their friends would be there—but Evie just didn’t want to go out after what she had been through at Christmas. At the last minute, Kim and Leslie insisted, and Evie dressed without enthusiasm and went downstairs to meet Peter.

From the moment he picked her up, Evie was silent and withdrawn, and she sat as far as she could from him in Peter’s car. Peter wondered if he had made a mistake sending the two girls up after her, but justified his action by telling himself that it was stupid for someone to spend her life mooning about the breakup of her parents’ marriage. A few drinks and some laughs would do her good.

The party was well under way when they arrived, and the first thing Peter did was to force several glasses of champagne on Evie, reasoning that this was what she needed to get in the spirit of things. It did the opposite: Evie retreated to a corner of the huge living room, next to the bar, and remained mute.

Peter tried to be gallant, then told a few jokes. Nothing helped. Finally he lost his temper. “Evie—as far as I’m concerned, you’re acting like an idiot. Your parents have a right to their own lives, just as you do. It’s about time you grew up—God knows I don’t want to marry a sulky child.”

Evie slammed down her champagne glass. “Don’t give me any of your stupid advice!” she screamed. “I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime. Anyway, who ever said I was going to marry you? I’m never getting married—understand?”

She had totally lost control of herself. “Here’s to marriage!” she screamed, and threw her drink in Peter’s face. Then she turned and fled up the stairs and locked herself in the bathroom.

Kim followed her up and angrily rattled the doorknob. Fortunately the party was so noisy that only a handful of guests had noticed the scene. “Let me in, Evie.”

“Go away.”

“Evie, open the goddamned door and stop acting like a brat.” With a sigh of relief, Kim heard the lock turning. Evie was sitting on the edge of the tub. Her eyes were read and swollen, and her hair was strewn over her distraught face.

Kim’s heart went out to her friend. She took Evie’s hand. “I know we’ve all been a little rough on you, Evie. But we’re trying to help. We just want you to accept the situation with your parents. And Peter really loves you—he’s just a little gauche, that’s all.”

“I know,” Evie sobbed miserably. “I acted like a bitch. I just don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I do, I think,” Kim said. “All these upheavals—your grandfather, the divorce, learning about Adam and Linda—they’ve really gotten to you. But give Peter a break—he feels rotten about the whole business.”

Evie swallowed hard. “I guess you’re right—I’d better shape up. Let me fix my face and I’ll be right down.”

BOOK: Seasons of the Heart
13.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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