The War of the Roses: The Children (20 page)

“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 brought 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.

“That was a childish outburst,” he told her calmly, showing no visible hint of outrage for what she had done.

“You haven't seen anything yet, Josh,” she sneered. “I won't rest until….”

“Hello, everybody!”

It was Evie, offering her cupid's smile, oblivious to the hatred that had permeated the room. She was cradling Tweedledee in her arms.

“Well, well,” Victoria said. “The blimp has arrived.” She turned to Josh. “And her little pussy.”

“They're being cruel, Evie. Pay no attention.”

“It's all right, Josh. Really.”

Evie's presence seemed to have also energized Mrs. Stewart. Even the color had come back to her cheeks.

“My God. She's put on a hundred pounds since I saw her last.”

“Mrs. Stewart,” Evie exclaimed, her smile in place. “So nice to see you again!”

Then Michael appeared suddenly and embraced his aunt. She smiled broadly and returned the affection. Josh felt certain that the children had heard their entire argument.

“I told you children to stay upstairs,” Victoria snarled.

“We just wanted to see Aunt Evie,” Emily said. “And Tweedledee.”

“Well, you've seen her,” Victoria said. “Now you can both go back upstairs.”

“Listen to your mommy, children,” Evie said, her smile intact.

“No need to go up just yet, kids,” Josh said.

Evie, still smiling, appeared caught in the middle. Her glance darted between Josh and Victoria.

“Tell you what,” she said sweetly, “I've brought the makings of a delicious baked Alaska flambé. You remember how much you loved it. I've done most of it at home and all I have to do is the finishing touches. How does that sound, everybody?”

“Great, Aunt Evie,” Michael exclaimed.

“Can I help?” Emily squealed.

“Both of you can help,” Evie told them.

Victoria and her mother exchanged glances. Mrs. Stewart, as indomitable as granite, seemed to have fully recovered her equilibrium, and both mother and daughter appeared to have united again, energized by their common enemy.

Evie seemed suddenly lost in thought, her chubby little forefinger caressing her chin.

“Hmmmm. All I'll need is confectioner's sugar, a sieve, and some cognac.”

“I know where the confectioner's sugar is and the sieve,” Emily blurted, immediately sensing that she had inadvertently revealed secret information. She slapped a little hand over her mouth.

“It's okay, darling,” Victoria said, shooting her mother a sinister half-smile, confirming their alliance. “Where is the confectioner's sugar and the sieve?”

“Don't worry, honey,” Josh said reassuringly. “We have no secrets here.”

“Not anymore,” Victoria said.

“You'll all love it. That I guarantee,” Evie said, offering smiles all around. “Of course, we'll need a little time, but it will be worth the wait. There is nothing like a delicious flaming baked Alaska to bring joy and harmony into our lives.”

He could see Victoria winding up for a comment, but before she could get it out, Michael spotted the broken glass box and the figure of Cribb.

“Look, Dad,” he cried.

“We know, Michael. It was an accident.”

“A real accident?” he asked.

“Yes,” he said, looking at Victoria, “a real accident.”

“You didn't answer my question, darling,” Victoria said, directing her attention to Emily. “I asked where the confectioner's sugar and the sieve are stored.”

Emily exchanged glances with Michael.

“I'll get it,” Josh said.

“Let me, Dad,” Michael interjected.

“Why don't I go with you?” Victoria said.

“It's all right, Mom,” Michael said nervously. “I'll go myself. I know where it is.”

He ran swiftly to the door to the basement and they heard him clambering down the steps.

“You'll get it, won't you Josh?” Evie asked. Holding Emily's hand, she started out of the room, then stopped.

“We must do everything we can to keep this lovely family together,” she said with a winning air of optimism, then moved with Emily out of the room.

Victoria nodded while her mother could not resist a sneering insult.

“That woman sounds retarded.”

“That woman is a saint,” Josh said, glaring at Mrs. Stewart. Victoria's mind seemed elsewhere.

They heard Michael coming up the basement stairs, then heading for the kitchen.

“So that's how they did it,” Victoria said after a long silence. “That storage room in the basement.” She turned toward Josh. “You son of a bitch, making your children a party to this travesty. I want that woman out of here, along with that dirty cat and yourself.”

“Is that an order?” he mocked. He saw her hesitate for a moment. From the kitchen came the sound of children's voices and pots clattering.

“After this disgusting little ritual. Just as soon as they go off to bed.”

“I appreciate the dispensation, Victoria. But I'm not leaving this house,” Josh said. “I have no intention of putting those children in harm's way.” He waved his finger at Mrs. Stewart, who squared her shoulders and sneered at him. The woman was impervious, Josh thought, with grudging admiration and disgust.

“And I'll insist that you take the contents of that room with you. I assume you used it as a storeroom for the creation of her love objects and a larder for fat-creating concoctions like the one she is now making, which I have no intention of eating.”

“Your loss,” Josh muttered.

“Now if you don't mind, I think I'm entitled to see exactly what is in that room.”

“Christ, Victoria. It's only kitchen stuff. Maybe some food and Evie's clothes. No big deal.” Josh said.

“A hidden cache,” Victoria smirked.

“The intent was hardly as sinister as that. We knew you'd be upset if you found out that Evie was helping out. There were practical concerns as well. Taking things back and forth. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a special place to store your mother's things… a hidden room somewhere.”

“Here we go again. Tit for tat. No such luck. Mother left nothing.” She looked at him with an angry stare. “This is my house. Now show me what's in that damn room.”

Josh shrugged and started toward the hall corridor. Looking behind him, he saw Mrs. Stewart following in Victoria's wake.

“Does she need to come?” Josh asked.

“You're not going to leave me here by myself,” Mrs. Stewart said.

“This is stupid, Victoria,” he said as they proceeded down the basement stairs.

“Not to me, it isn't.”

He led them past the furnace and the hot water heater, stopping in front of the storage room door. He looked at the combination lock, then grasped it and began to roll the dial, discovering after a few attempts that he had forgotten the combination.

“I don't remember it,” he said finally.

“I'll bet Michael does,” Victoria said.