The War of the Roses

'Of course I love her,' he snapped. 'And I'm doing what I think is best for both my children, getting them the fuck away from us. Like you're going to do.'

It would go badly, she decided, knowing he was adamant, beyond advice. She handed him a piece of chicken and he bit into it without relish.

'Eve says you're not the same person you were a few months ago. You and Barbara.'

'She's probably right.' He became thoughtful. 'Then why does she want to stay home when she can get away?'

'Because she loves you both.' That was as far as she was able to go. She uncorked the wine. The cork came out with surprising ease. Then she poured the wine into plastic glasses, which she stood on the flat rock.

'You're all so wise and understanding, you women. Always thinking of yourselves. Your fulfillments and your pain and your anguish. Always thinking that we guys have done you in. Always conspiring, manipulating us with your goddamned pussy.'

'I didn't come here for dirty melodrama, Oliver. Please don't include me. And don't talk of manipulation. Which is the reason I'm still living in that house - '

'I'm sorry, Ann. I apologize for past and future wrongs.'

'You haven't wronged me, Oliver. I only went where my feelings took me.'

'Then you are a masochist.'

She had come to talk about Eve, but had been waylaid. A bubbling sob began to rise in her chest and she turned away.

'Shit,' he said. 'Let's have some wine.' He lifted his glass and she followed. He was the first to spit the wine out on the ground.

'That lousy little bitch. Somehow she managed to get into the wine vault.' He threw the glass over the cliff and smelled the mouth of the bottle. 'She's gone and poured vinegar in it. Vinegar in Chateau Latour '66. a '66’. Can you believe it?' He took the other botde, uncorked it, and sniffed. 'Oh, what a bitch,' he cried, flinging the bottle into space. It crashed below. 'She's probably scuttled all of it. Every good bottle. The Margaux, the Chassagne Montrachet '73, the Chateau Beycheville '64 and '66. If she touched the Rothschild, I'll murder her.'

He looked at Ann, who was frightened now. She struggled up and moved away from the edge.

'It's only wine,' she said lamely.

'Only wine,' he shouted. He kicked the remaining botde over the cliff, sending the food after it. 'Lafite- Rothschild isn't only wine. Not a '59.' His face flushed a deep red. 'I don't understand you, Ann. If you loved me, you'd understand.'

She started running down the path, confused, hoping his anger would abate by the time he returned to the car. She sat there a long time, waiting, wondering what all this had to do with love.

20

'You should have left the wine alone, Barbara,' Thurmont lectured. 'The wine, we all agreed, was his. Not in dispute. What you did only complicates things.'

'It was only a half case of the Latour. That's all I touched. I could have really- been a rat and pulled the plug. That stuff has to be between fifty-four and fifty-seven degrees. I could have pulled the plug and ruined all hundred and ten bottles. That's if I was really a rat.' She was determined to remain calm.

'Goldstein is threatening to take us to court for violating the separation agreement.'

'Well, invasion of privacy was a violation and where did that get us?'

'He was restrained. That helps the case when we get down to the real arena.'

'I think he's done it again.' She was smug now, proud that she had learned to be unflappable. They were not going to grind her down. She was more determined than ever.

Thurmont had looked up at her over his half glasses. / She smiled sarcastically, enjoying the situation. They all think women are dumb, she huffed to herself.

'I'm positive he's picked the lock and been inside my room. I'm absolutely positive.'

'Are you hallucinating now, Barbara? The court doesn't deal in that kind of information.'

'I know he's been there.'

'That's not enough.'

She left Thurmont's office unusually buoyed. He had been discouraging, especially when she had explained that she had ruined the wine because he had destroyed her plants. If he was such a smart lawyer, he would have included the plants in the agreement. She wondered again if it wouldn't have been a better idea to find a woman lawyer. A woman lawyer would understand. But then again, most judges were men and it would be like playing Russian roulette. She was certain that they all worked hand in glove, conspiring together to keep women in their place.

Whatever the consequences, the fact that he had actually discovered the ruined wine under the most-hoped-for circumstances elated her. So he was having trysts with Ann, she thought gleefully, little country outings. And she had spoiled one by ruining their wine. Even Eve's intrusion had not diminished her joy.

'I put her up to it, Mom. I just don't want to go to camp. I really don't know who to go to if I have grievances.' Eve had confessed, revealing how efficient the household communication system operated. Oliver to Ann and Eve to her. Goldstein to Thurmont. A round robin. She didn't care, reveling in her assertiveness and success. The French Market was demanding more and more pate, and her chicken galantine had made a big hit at any number of big parties. She was making it. She was unstoppable. A winner. And she was certain she would win her case, although Thurmont had warned her not to become too successful until the divorce action came to court.

'Why didn't you come to me?' she had complained to Eve, but in her heart she knew this was a rote response,