The War Of The Roses Part 5

'Well, it won't make me crazy,' Oliver muttered. 'If it's meant to be, then let's get it over. You just proceed along the fastest track.'

'There's a waiting period for a no-fault divorce in the District of Columbia. Six months if the parties don't contest. That's the quick way. If there's problems, there's a year wait. A divorce you get either way. But the property settlement is separate. It could go on and on. If it goes to court, there's more waiting. A judge decides.' Goldstein bent over, blowing smoke. 'All judges are putzes.' putzes.'

Oliver nodded. It was going too fast. 'It won't come to that.' 'You hope.'

'We're reasonable people.' 'That was yesterday.'

'I know lawyers. They can f.u.c.k things up. They call Thurmont the Bomber.'

'Personally, I have mixed feelings. A court battle can help make me an even richer man. I have a loving devoted family, Mr. Rose.' He looked longingly at the picture of his rotund children and obese wife. They are all going to college now. I have a very large house in Potomac and a maid that lives in, two Mercedes, and I go to Israel twice a year. Harry Thurmont has all these things and, in addition, an airplane and a house in Saint Thomas and he's always very tan, which means he gets away often.'

'I don't need the lecture, Goldstein. I'm also a lawyer.'

'The worst kind. You need the lecture more than a plumber. We can chop up your estate like scavengers and leave you nothing but the bare bones.' Goldstein's cigar had gone out, and Oliver caught a whiff of his bad breath.

'All right, you've scared the s.h.i.t out of me, Goldstein. I already told you I want to settle this amicably. No ha.s.sle. I detest the idea of anyone getting rich from my misfortune.'

Goldstein relit his cigar, puffed deeply, and exhaled smoke clouds into the atmosphere.

'I'll talk to Thurmont and get back to you,' Goldstein said, getting up. 'From here on in, we talk to your wife only through Thurmont.'

'And I pay for both?''I don't make the rules.''Just the money.''I don't make the divorces, either.''But it wasn't my fault,' Oliver protested.'It was mine?'

Oliver, sorry now he had engaged Goldstein, was more confused than ever.

'Have you moved out yet?' Goldstein asked as Oliver rose.

'No. Perhaps tonight. I can't seem to manage it.' 'Why not?'

'I'm not sure,' Oliver replied, wondering about his candor. 'It's my nest. I can't seem to fly away. It's my place, Goldstein. My orchids. My wines. My workshop. My Staffordshire figures are there.'

'Your what?'

'Little porcelainlike figures, beautifully painted. There's a cobalt blue -'

'I don't understand this, Rose,' Goldstein interrupted.

'I don't either. None of it.' Never in his life had he been racked with such indecision. He searched Goldstein's eyes for direction. Through droopy lids, they stared back lugubriously. Their look depressed him.

'I need time,' Oliver said after a long pause.'Time we got.'

'Have we?' Oliver asked. It seemed his first rational thought of the day. 'I just threw out nearly twenty years.' He felt too overcome to continue. 'When you speak to Thurmont, call me,' he muttered as he left the office, not certain of his destination.

9.

I can't believe it,' Eve said. She had intruded on Ann, who was working on a bibliography for her thesis, 'Jefferson as Secretary of State,' just at that point when the number of books to read and sources to check seemed overwhelming. Ann was in no mood to be provoked by the perpetual crises of a teenage girl and had learned not to be panicked by Eve's propensity for dramatic overstatement.

But she looked up and saw in Eve's misty-eyed face an agitation that engaged her attention. Eve bent over her seated form and embraced her, putting her cheek against her own. Patting her head, Ann waited for Eve to unburden herself.

'They've split,' she said, unable to hold back a chest-racking brace of sobs.

'Hey, what's this?' Ann said, turning and embracing the troubled girl. She waited until her caress soothed her.

'Mom and Dad. They've decided to go their separate ways,' Eve said when she was able to speak.

Ann, of course, knew what had happened. But the idea hadn't quite sunk in. It was the unthinkable incarnate. She continued to deny it to herself. No one is prepared for a suddenly realized fantasy. She began to feel the full impact of her guilt.

'I'm sure it's temporary,' Ann said quietly. Some secret, transient tension, she decided, not being privy to what really went on between them. 'Married people are always having spats/ She had never seen them raise their voices to each other.

'Not a spat, Ann,' Eve said, finding her self-control. She seemed to be teetering on the edge of maturity. Such events, Ann knew, could be a catalyst, forcing adulthood. Eve sat on the edge of the sleigh bed and lit a cigarette, picking an errant tobacco crumb from her tongue.

'It was a declaration of independence, Ann,' Eve said, clouds of smoke pouring out with her words. 'I didn't know who she was, although I knew what she meant. She said it wouldn't affect my relationship with Dad, that it was all going to be very civilized and understanding. She was sure of that.' Eve shook her head and sighed as Ann waited for her to continue. But what was the real reason? she wanted to ask. Eve seemed to read her mind.

'She said it was her idea. She said that I was a woman and would be sure to understand. What she wanted was to be free to fulfill her own aspirations and didn't want to be an appendage anymore. She said Dad was strong and time would heal his hurt.' She looked up fiercely at Ann. 'I didn't know what she meant, so I asked her and she explained.' She paused and her face seemed bemused. 'I never knew she was "an appendage." For me, the worst part was the thought that she wasn't happy with Dad.'

'Maybe he wasn't happy as well,' Ann blurted out, instantly sorry. In her heart she was fishing for another explanation.

'She didn't say.''I'm sure there are reasons on both sides.'

'After she told me, I felt like I was in a car accident. I'm still in shock. I mean everybody, all my friends, even me, believed they had the best relationship of any married couple anywhere. The way they did things together. Doing all the things with this house.' Her voice rose and she mashed out her cigarette in a dish of paper clips. 'She asked me to understand, to try to understand. I said I'd try. But I lied. I don't understand this at all. What does she want to be free from?'

Ann blew out a long gasp of air.

'Well. . .' She was groping for words of explanation. 'Maybe it's too complex for us to understand.'

'She has everything. Absolutely everything. And she's just started out on a great new business. Certainly we're no bother.'

'Did she tell Josh?'

'He got it first. But you know Josh. When something hurts, he goes off into the corner like a whipped dog. Just like Benny when Dad yells at him. I saw him leaning against the tree in front of the house, just bouncing his basketball. I knew something was wrong. But this?'

'Have you discussed this with your father?'

'He was long gone. He slept in the guest room last night. No, I haven't discussed it with him. I'm afraid to. Considering what he's just been through. Thinking he was dying and none of us coming up to be near him.'

It had confused Ann as well. She had watched Barbara's initial agitation when she first got the news. Then, with uncommon speed, it subsided. She hadn't after all, heard the other end of the conversation and the way Barbara had gone about filling the ca.s.serole dishes with the ca.s.soulet ca.s.soulet for the Paks one would have thought that Oliver had only a mild indisposition. 'He'll be fine,' Barbara had said, and she was right. 'It can't be a heart attack. He's too young. And the Roses have the genes of longevity.' for the Paks one would have thought that Oliver had only a mild indisposition. 'He'll be fine,' Barbara had said, and she was right. 'It can't be a heart attack. He's too young. And the Roses have the genes of longevity.'

'I can't blame him if he was upset,' Eve said. 'But I didn't expect her to be the one who . ..' She was obviously still confused by her mother's announcement.

'Maybe it will all come out in the wash,' Ann said, disturbed by her own conflicting emotions. She was wondering, as well, how it would affect her own status in the house. Would they keep her,on? Surely now Barbara would need her more than ever. But the thought of not being near Oliver filled her with sudden anger, and she could not resist a vague, utterly illogical sense of betrayal. He will be leaving me, she thought, shocked at the depth of her feeling.

'She's already gone to see a lawyer, I'm afraid this is the end of the happy Rose family,' Eve said with adolescent sarcasm.

'He hasn't moved out yet?' Ann asked, wondering if she had missed something.

'Not yet.''He's a very resourceful man. He'll be fine.'

'Will he?' The tears rolled over the lower lids of Eve's eyes, wetting her cheek. Her nose reddened. 'Poor Daddy.' She reached out and Ann was there to embrace her.

But who would soothe her? Ann wondered.

Sitting at her desk, she had been listening for his familiar step. Although she was growing drowsy and had difficulty keeping her eyes open, the sound of his key in the downstairs lock quickly restored her alertness and set her adrenaline charging. She heard Benny's bark and the click of his nails against the marble as they came into the house. Barbara would not let Benny in except when Oliver came home. Did her disgust extend to the animal as well? Ann wondered. She waited to hear the sound of Oliver's ascending step. None came. Then she moved through the doorway of her room to the head of the landing, peering into the darkness of the second floor, listening to the sounds of the sleeping house. She wondered if the others were listening as well, secretly observing with their senses what was, to all of them, a considerable household trauma. She waited until she was certain that no one had stirred and, after a longer wait, walked soundlessly down to the second floor, listening first at Eve's door, then at Josh's, although she dared not move to the front of the house and Barbara's door. An alibi had already been concocted in her mind. She wanted a cup of tea, which she often made for herself when she studied late. Those previous occasions would make her story plausible. All she did was pop a tea bag into a cup and drown it with hot water from the Instant Hot tap.

In the kitchen, she deliberately placed the cup on the saucer with enough force to produce an audible tinkle. If anyone was listening, she wanted to dispel the impression that she was sneaking around. She had to see him, she decided. How could this have happened to such a man? How could Barbara possibly reject Oliver?

She took another teacup off the shelf and dropped in a tea bag, filled the cup with hot water, and put both cups on a tray. Something was missing, she decided, looking around until she spotted a ceramic cookie jar in which Barbara placed her chocolate-chip cookies. She laid out some cookies on the tray and carried it to the library.

He was sprawled on the leather couch, looking haggard and unshaven, his hand shielding his eyes from the glare of the Tiflany lamp. Hearing her, he lifted his head, startled, revealing his disappointed reaction. Perhaps he was expecting Barbara.

'I was making myself a cup of tea and I thought you might. . .' Her hands shook, rattling the teacups on the tray. In the air was the sour odour of alcohol, and it struck her quite suddenly that he might be drunk. Beneath her quilted robe and pyjamas, she felt her nakedness and a sudden stabbing sensation in her nipples. A nerve palpitated in her neck.

'No need, really, Ann,' he said, his voice gravelly. But he had lifted himself on one elbow and was squinting at her, not quite sober but not quite drunk. She started to turn, but his voice stopped her.

'Might as well,' he said, sitting up, running his fingers through his hair. She moved the tray toward him and he took the teacup, but left the cookies.

'Good,' he said. 'Nice and hot.''I like it sometimes when I've been studying. Gives me a second wind.'

He was, she imagined, forcing his politeness. He had never really noticed her. Certainly not as a woman. She put the tray down on the couch beside him and, still standing, began to sip her own tea.

'I suppose you know what's happened?' he said.

She nodded, but he did not look up, preferring instead to stare at the teacup.

'I started to come home for dinner. Then I thought, Jesus Christ, I can't come home for dinner. So I went to the Hilton and sat at the bar. Then I had dinner at the coffee shop. Did you ever realize how impersonal hotel living can be?' He looked up at her, then his eyes wandered.

She was thankful he was not waiting for an answer.'It's beyond my comprehension, Ann.'

He shook his head and looked around the library. 'A man builds a fortress against the terrors of life.' He looked at his hands. 'I built a lot of things with these. I know some of the intimate secrets of these objects. G.o.d, we worked like beavers on those shelves.' He paused. 'That rent table. We found the son of a b.i.t.c.h in a little antique barn outside Frederick. Something deliciously sinister about it. The tenant put the rent in one of those little cubbies and the landlord just revolved the top, scooped up the money, and put it in a drawer. Nice and neat. A kind of symbolic fortress. Did you know that, Ann?'

'Josh explained it once.''Josh. Oh, s.h.i.t.''They're fine, Oliver. I had a long talk with Eve.'

He put his teacup back on the tray and surprised her suddenly by stretching out his hand to her. Since she was holding the teacup, she could not respond. She felt her knees shake.

'Dear Ann,' he said. 'You've been swell.'

She could not resist. The palpitation in her body grew more forceful and her ears pounded. Putting down the teacup, she grasped his hand, continuing to stand but keeping her distance. G.o.d, how she longed to embrace him. His hand felt hot in hers. .

'I don't know how the h.e.l.l I'm going to explain it to them.' He drew a deep breath between his teeth. 'I feel so d.a.m.ned inadequate.'

'Inadequate? You?'

He withdrew his hand and she let it drop. Let me love you, her mind screamed, frightening her. She watched his head droop into his hands.

'I've never been through this before. I don't know what to do. I can barely face anybody. Barely function. I haven't even got the will to move out. I'm, quite literally, paralyzed. Zombied into a state of shock. I was standing out there in front of the Hilton and I suddenly felt disoriented, alone. I panicked. I didn't know what to do. Maybe I even lost track of time. I don't know how I got home.'

He lifted his head as if he wanted her to glimpse his anguish. Confide in me, she begged silently.

'I feel so helpless. I can't believe it's happening.'

'Perhaps it will pa.s.s,' she said. She seemed to hold her breath.

'Never. It's over, Ann.'She forced herself to hide her elation.

'I just want you to know . ..' She felt her face flush. 'That I'm going to stick by the kids. I think they'll be fine. Just fine.' She wondered about that. Eve was already smoking heavily. Josh had become withdrawn.

Only Barbara seemed blithely content. 'And if you need me for anything.' She felt suddenly manipulative, sinister, hardly as innocent as she thought herself to be. A fantasy suddenly filled her mind. He was coming towards her, kissing her nipples, his fingers moving up her thighs. She felt her lips begin to swell. 'Anything,' she said. He closed his eyes and nodded. He reached out to her, and she took his hand again. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Dear Ann,' he whispered, more brotherly than she had wished. He released her hand, then lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. She watched him for a long time before departing.

10.

Harry Thurmont was dapper in his pin-striped suit and high, oversized collar as he watched her from behind his free-form Plexiglas desk. Behind him, framed in a wide picture window, was the White House and, beyond, the Washington Monument. The senior partner in Oliver's firm had a similar view, Barbara thought suddenly, remembering that Oliver had once told her that such a view automatically doubled the fee.

'He hasn't moved out. I don't understand it,' Barbara said. She sat in a deep easy chair, watching Thurmont's pink face. He had a reddish, bulbous nose and watery gray eyes. 'A drinker' was her first thought until he announced that he was AA, insisting on the reformed drunk's obligatory precis of his life.

'My elbow is permanently bent,' he told her. 'But since I'm off the sauce, I'm mean as h.e.l.l.'

'I hope that side of you won't be necessary,' she had told him at their first meeting two days ago. She wasn't so sure now.

'He's like some kind of animal. Almost invisible. He leaves early, before we get up, and comes home late, long after we've gone to bed. He doesn't take his meals at home. I know Eve called him at the office and they spoke for a long time. And he's been in touch with Josh. I think he met him yesterday after school. He's really a good man. Believe me, if there was another way . . .' Her voice trailed off.

'More or less typical,' Thurmont said. 'I'm in touch with Goldstein and we'll take it from there. The wisest thing is to let him phase out in his own time. 'Suppose he doesn't?'

'Well, then, are you prepared to move out?'

It had begun to confuse her. Not that she had thought through any of it. She was simply obeying her instincts, knowing that it was absolutely necessary to do what she had done. She felt, quite literally, free.

'Of course I'm not going to move out of my own house,' she said flatly.

'It's also his,' Thurmont said quietly, fastening his eyes on her face, inspecting her.

'It's unthinkable,' she said. 'You know that. I know that. He knows that.' She stood up and walked to the window behind his desk, watching the sun glinting on the rump of Jackson's horse in the middle of Lafayette Park. He picked up a typed sheet, put on his half gla.s.ses, and studied the page.

'He's agreed to two thousand a month to run the house, the kids, the whole kebash. He'll pay the tuition at Sidwell Friends. That's for starters to get us going on the road to the final settlement. There's a whole procedure to be followed. Physical separation for six months. Things like that.' He turned toward her, watching her, a canny smile on his face. The half gla.s.ses made him look shrewd. 'In an uncontested situation, we'll just hammer out a plan. Goldstein's a pain in the a.s.s. A talmudic Jew, always pinning arguments on great moral tenets. He runs up the rate. So far, your husband has been a pushover.'

'He's very family oriented,' she said.