by Warren Adler
“Tomorrow, Mommy?”
“Maybe.”
“Is he still sleeping?”
Had they told her that, Josh wondered, exchanging glances with his wife?
“Yes, he is,” he said, sensing that Emily too was posing, hiding her awareness of the truth.
“When will he wake up?”
“Soon.”
“Can I be there when he wakes up?”
“If we can time it properly. Yes.”
“Promise. Cross your heart.”
Both parents crossed their hearts in tandem. Josh almost burst into tears. He crossed his heart again, looking toward Victoria, who turned away, deliberately averting his gaze.
“His eyes are flickering,” the gray-haired nurse said, smiling. She had come out of Michael’s room to summon them and they rushed to his bedside.
“Please, Michael. Look at us,” Victoria begged. Josh’s hand touched Victoria’s shoulder. She did not shake it away.
They sat by his bedside for the next few hours, concentrating on every movement the child made, rarely speaking, except to point out changes in him they had perceived or imagined.
“Come on, Michael, wake up,” Josh pleaded, his mouth next to his son’s ear. “You can do it. Mom and Dad are here beside you, waiting for you to greet us. Come on, Michael.”
“Do you think he can hear us?” Victoria asked.
“Sure he can,” Josh said, suspecting that he was probably wrong.
“Michael,” Victoria said. She was bent next to the boy with her mouth placed, as Josh had done, as close to his ear as possible.
“Please, Michael. Mom needs you. Dad needs you. Emily needs you most of all. I told her you were sleeping. She wants to be here with us when you wake up. God, there’s so much that we’re going to do when you get better. We love you.”
There was no improvement in his response, although some fluttering continued behind the eyelids. Josh gripped Michael’s hand and squeezed. Both of them had done this repeatedly and each time he had responded. He did so again.
“He must know we’re here,” Victoria said.
“Sure he knows.”
Shortly after midnight, a nurse suggested that they leave and get some sleep. They rose reluctantly and went back to the motel. Emily was sleeping in her mother’s motel room, and Evie was sitting in the one good chair reading a cookbook.
“Is he awake yet?” Evie asked, closing her book.
“Not yet,” Josh said. “But he is showing signs. He’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
Josh kissed his sister goodnight. Victoria pointedly ignored her. After she had gone, Josh bent down and kissed Emily’s head and caressed it for a moment.
“Sleep well, love.”
He stood up suddenly, feeling awkward. Victoria and Josh briefly exchanged glances. Neither spoke. For a brief moment, he thought she was going to say something. He toyed with the idea that she was going to ask him to stay, but her blank and stony expression told him otherwise. Then the moment passed and he turned away.
“See you in the morning,” he said.
“If you hear anything, let me know.”
“Of course.”
He let himself out of the room and into his adjoining room. He called his office to pick up his voicemail. He went through message after message, trying to become engaged, but without success. He decided to try again in the morning. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice on the line and he froze. It was Angela.
“This is good-bye, Josh. You’ll probably never hear from me again,” the message began. His heart thumped. In the brief pause that followed, suicide was the first thing that came to his mind. “I have left my family and am off to Italy to devote my life to my talent. I have a job in Milan and I’ll paint on the side.” He was both stunned and relieved. “You see, I have discovered that I am a true romantic. I’ll never forget you for believing in my artistic talent. So, I’ll always owe you for that. I’ll pour all my passion into this undertaking. I hope you will forgive me. I fully recognize that I am solely to blame for the terrible pain I have caused to everyone around me. Dominic and my mother will take wonderful care of my children. I’m at ease on that score. You were wonderful and I loved every minute of our adventure. Good luck and good-bye, my sweet love.”
“And good luck to you,” he mused aloud, tears rolling down his cheeks.
He lay down in bed and tried to reconcile what he had just heard with his memories of her. She had thanked him for the adventure and he silently returned her thanks. Now that it was over, he could acknowledge that it was the joyride of his life. He felt a lingering sense of possession remembering Angela in orgasmic fury, knuckles in her mouth to stifle her sounds of release. Angela, the sexual acrobat, the wild mistress, his whore.
He chased such images from his mind, but another took its place. Victoria and Tatum. He hadn’t even thought about the revelation in a sexual context. Tatum’s demands reverberated in his mind. The bastard! It was rape, pure and simple. He had abused a mother’s love. For Victoria it wasn’t sex. It was sacrifice.
He tried to sleep but couldn’t. His mind continued to be a cauldron for his thoughts, mostly fantasies of doom. Images assailed him of Michael laid out in a white coffin being lowered into the ground, of his mother-in-law laughing hysterically, of Angela Bocci in a traditional nun’s habit being repeatedly beaten by her husband, of Evie blowing up like a balloon, exploding, of Victoria chopping off Tweedledee’s head with an axe.
Then he was running as fast as he could into his burning house, Victoria chasing him, screaming epithets. These were waking nightmares. His eyes were open.
The phone rang. Before it could complete another ring, he picked it up.
“This is the night nurse,” a voice said. “He’s coming out of it.”
“I’ll be right there.”
His mind cleared and he called Victoria’s room.
“Come quick. He’s waking up.”
“Thank God,” Victoria said.
“Bring Emily.”
In a few moments, they were dressed and ready and running as fast as they could to the hospital. Then they were by Michael’s bed. He was blinking his eyes.
“We’re here, sweetheart,” Victoria said.
Josh lifted Emily so that Michael could get a better view of her.
“It’s Emily, Michael. See?”
The boy’s eyes flickered, and then closed again.
“Mikey, it’s me, Emmie. Wake up, Mikey.”
The sound of her voice seemed to trigger more of a response. His eyes flickered again, then stayed opened. He seemed to be squinting, getting his vision accustomed to the light.
“Here I am, Mikey,” Emily said.
He stared at her as she moved her arms in a flaying motion.
“Here I am,” Emily said again.
Then she made funny faces and used her hands to draw her cheeks down, forcing her eyes upward so that the pupils didn’t show.
Michael smiled, tentatively at first, then broadly.
“It’s us,” Josh said, putting an arm around Victoria’s shoulder. He felt her stiffen under his touch, but he did not remove his arm. “Your family.”
Michael nodded, then closed his eyes again, and the smile disappeared. When his eyes closed, she shook free of Josh’s arm.
“Is he off again?” Victoria asked. She reached out and took Michael’s hand. He squeezed back without prompting. His lips moved. He was trying to speak. Josh bent down and put his ear close to his son’s mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Michael whispered.
“What?”
Josh had heard it the first time, but he wanted to hear him speak again.
“I’m sorry,” Michael repeated.
“What did he say?” Victoria asked.
“It’s okay, son,” Josh said risi
ng. He turned to Victoria. “He said he was sorry.”
“Sorry?” Victoria bit her lip and shook her head.
“I wanted us to be family again. I didn’t expect the fire,” he whispered.
“I know, darling,” she replied. “Just rest now.”
He sucked in a deep breath and, with effort, spoke again.
“The other.” He could barely speak the words. “It was all my idea. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t understand.” She replied.
“We hid those things, Emmy and me.”
They turned toward Emmy, who averted her eyes and nodded.
“And the tape, Mom. With yours and Mr. Tatum’s voices. I found it in your closet. I… I wanted Dad to know what you did for me, that you were a good person.”
Victoria turned ashen. She turned toward Josh, her lips quivering, her eyes moistened. She looked troubled and confused, but said nothing.
“Never mind, darling. Forget all about it.”
She knew better. No one would ever forget.
“Will you forgive me, Mom?”
He was losing energy. He closed his eyes.
“Forgive you? I was hoping you would forgive me.”
A doctor came rushing in, bent over the bed, and checked Michael, whispering questions.
“What is your name?”
“Michael Rose,” the boy replied, his response weak, his words barely audible.
“Where do you live?”
He gave his address, opened his eyes again, and smiled.
“Who do you see?”
“My mother, Dad, and my little sister, Emmie.”
Emily giggled. She grabbed Josh’s hand and kissed it.
“Thank God,” Victoria said.
The doctor checked the monitors at the side of the bed.
“We’ll keep the IV in and the oxygen going,” the doctor said. “He’s not totally out of the woods yet. He’s also very tired. Why don’t you folks let him rest?” He looked at Josh and Victoria. “I’d say it’s up to him now.”
They kissed Michael in turn, then left his bedside and sat in the waiting room.
“He’ll be fine now,” Josh said. “I’m sure of it.”
“I hope so,” Said the doctor.
“When can we go home?” Emily asked.
“Home?” Josh laughed. Not having laughed for a long time, his reaction surprised him. He hadn’t been thinking about the house at all during the past two days.
“It’s probably not a very pretty sight,” Victoria sighed. “It is insured, though. And the policy will pay for a housing elsewhere until the damage is repaired.”
“Will I have to go to school tomorrow?” Emily asked.
“Absolutely,” Victoria replied, looking at Josh.
Later, after they had brought Emily back to the motel, Josh went into Evie’s room. She had been a good soldier, taking care of Emily, carpooling her to her various activities and keeping the girl amused and content during the long hours her parents spent with Michael. Victoria had not objected. It was a time of need and she gave herself permission to be practical.
“What that boy needs now is one of Aunt Evie’s delicious meals,” Evie said.
“Believe me, Evie, if that would do the trick I’d consent in a minute,” Josh sighed. He was exhausted by his vigil and the general tension between him and Victoria.
“I’d make him a delicious bouillabaisse and top it off with a chocolate soufflé,” Evie said. She was munching on a big bag of caramelized popcorn, which she washed down with chocolate milk. Josh watched the spectacle.
“Food again, Evie?” he said, on the verge of rebuke. “What makes you think that would help?”
“It sends a powerful message of comfort, Josh. People need that at certain times of their lives, especially when they are about to lose their whole world. Michael is in mourning, Josh. Have you ever wondered why people have feasts around a mourning ritual?”
He absorbed her words without comment. It was, after all, the theme of her life.
“I’m very, very worried about him, Evie. If anything happens to him I don’t know how I could handle it.”
“Stop thinking such gloomy thoughts, Josh.”
“I know. I still don’t understand his actions.”
“Yes you do, Josh. Victoria, too.”
He looked probingly at his sister, waiting for her response.
“Considering the lengths to which they went, the kids want their family back, Josh. We didn’t have that option.”
“The thefts, the tape. It seems….” He groped for words. “Like they were grasping at straws.”
Evie snatched up a handful of popcorn from a nearby bowl and stuffed it into her mouth, washing it down with a deep swallow of chocolate milk before she spoke.
“And so they were,” she said. “Never underestimate the wisdom of children.”
Josh studied his sister’s face through a long pause. He loved her dearly.
“I’ll say this,” he said. “They did get our attention.”
***
Victoria and Josh returned to Michael’s hospital room. He opened his eyes briefly when they came into the room, then closed them again and said nothing. They observed him for a while. Under the white sheets, he looked pale and wan.
“He looks awful,” Victoria whispered.
“He’s been through a terrible ordeal.”
“I’m worried, Josh.”
Josh nodded agreement.
They both kissed him on his forehead, patted his chest, then consulted the nurse in the corridor.
“We’re doing the best we can,” she said. Her manner and the way she said it was not very encouraging.
They went down to the hospital cafeteria. They moved through the line and brought their coffee to a table. He sensed the delicacy of the moment. For a long time neither of them spoke.
“At least he’s conscious,” Josh said without conviction.
“Thank God for that,” Victoria sighed, sipping her coffee.
Occasionally their eyes met above the rims of their cups. Hers always turned away first. He saw no softness in them, only puzzlement.
“Sorry,” Victoria mused, shaking her head. “The first thing out of his mouth was that he was sorry.”
“I guess he thought that baked Alaska had magic powers to unite us.”
He had meant the words to lighten the mood. They didn’t.
“Not that.” she said, her nostrils flaring. “The other. About it being his idea. Alone.”
Josh nodded agreement but said nothing. From time to time she would look at him as if she wished to broach an idea that was festering in her thoughts.
“Well, I don’t believe it,” she said finally, after a long silence. Josh braced himself, sensing a burst of anger coming.
“Are you saying that he was lying?”
“He lied before.” She looked at him pointedly. “So did you.”
“How can you? At this moment!”
“These are children!” She shook her head and a sob escaped her. “How could they concoct such ideas….” She paused for a moment. “By themselves?”
He was tempted to recycle Evie’s words about the wisdom of children. Then demurred.
“I’m as confused as you are, Victoria.”
She ignored his comment.
“And that awful tape. How could he know….” She broke off abruptly. “He’s eleven years old, for crying out loud. And Emily. Exposed to that. How awful.” She sighed and looked off into space. “No way.”
He wished he could find the words to convince her. But she had been conditioned by experience.
“Look, Victoria. Let’s put that aside. Whether you believe him or not, it’s not relevant.”
“What is?”
“Let’s… dissimulate… for his sake.”
“Why not say what you mean, Josh? You want us to lie, right?”
“Why must you put it that way, Victoria?”
“Because it’s the language you understand best,” she shot back.
“All I’m asking is that we just play act, Victoria. Make believe we’ve reconciled. Show him. Make the boy feel better, recover faster. What’s wrong with that?” he asked with exasperation. “Perform. You seem to be good at it.”
He was instantly sorry. He watched her lip begin to tremble, but she quickly got herself under control and stood up.
“Let’s go see our son.”
Chapter 19
They went back to Michael’s room. His eyes were open. He seemed sad, as if coming out of the coma was an unwelcome intrusion.
“Doesn’t he look wonderful?” Victoria said cheerfully, smiling broadly, determined to show her son a happy face, despite her inner feeling of despair.
“He looks great,” Josh lied.
“The doctor says you’ll be out of here in a few days,” Victoria said. It didn’t seem to faze the boy. “We’ll probably have to rent a place while the house is being rehabilitated.”
Michael turned and looked at her.
“All of us?”
Victoria’s smile faded and she seemed momentarily confused.
“It’ll just be for a few months,” Josh said, obviously deflecting the question. “You’ll just go on with your life like it was before.”
“Before when Dad…,” Michael probed.
“The first thing you have to do, young man, is get completely healthy again,” Josh said, tousling the boy’s hair but avoiding any direct answer to the question.
“Dad’s right. That’s your first priority, Michael,” Victoria said smiling.
“Sure, Mom. I was only asking… you know.”
“Yes, dear. I understand.”
He was silent for a long time, averting his eyes from their exploring looks.
“Remember what we talked about?” Michael asked. “About being a real family again?”
“Oh yes, son,” Josh said. “We’re discussing that, aren’t we Victoria?”
“Of course we are,” Victoria replied.
Michael’s eyes drifted from one parent to the other. Victoria could tell he was skeptical. For a long time none of them spoke.
