Come Pour the Wine Page 24

  “I don’t give a damn what Kit did. Nicole’s not going to be regimented. If she’s in the way I’ll take her to the office …”

  Regimented? And then she remembered, and understood … remembered what had happened during his childhood … being carted off to a military academy … It wasn’t Nicole … Bill was reacting to Bill … a hundred years ago. It was a little frightening …

  “Nicole’s not in the way, Bill,” she answered quietly, “quite the contrary. But she needs other children to play with. She’s very sad when the school bus passes the house in the morning. The other day she asked Mark if he wouldn’t take her—”

  “Why the hell didn’t you discuss this with me before?”

  “Well, darling, that’s what I’m doing now.”

  The hell she was … that decision had been made by Kit and herself. Who was she kidding? “Okay, Janet. Since you’re now kind enough to tell me about this, the answer is no. Nicole’s entirely too young to be sent away to school.”

  Janet bit on her lower lip. She’d had no idea he would carry on this way. Still, she did understand. Better take it easy … “She isn’t exactly being sent away, Bill. She’ll be at school from nine to eleven-thirty. But most important are her feelings. She’ll be very lonely without Jeremy and Rebecca to play with …”

  Leave it to her to push him into a corner … in her sweet, compassionate way she sounded as though the sacrifice was all hers … like it was only for Nicole’s sake. The hell it was. Whatever Kit did, Janet followed suit. He wished to God he’d never moved to Westchester, especially this close to Kit. Janet couldn’t go to the bathroom without her. At this moment he wanted to pull up stakes and buy a place in Manhattan … at least he’d be able to take Nicole to school and back. If they were living in the city he might understand Janet’s feeling that Nicole needed the company of other children, but here … damned if he did. Nicole seemed to be happy enough playing with the baby and more than content with the things she and Janet did together. Well, what was the use of arguing? He’d look like a heel if he tried to stop Janet. And it was inevitable that Kit would tell him he was a selfish s.o.b. Eight would get you five that she’d get into the act. She always did … Wasn’t she responsible for their moving to the suburbs? You bet. Talk about mothers-in-law? How about friends? … If only she’d butt out … she dominated everyone, especially Nat, or so it sometimes seemed to him. But damn it, what’s the use of arguing the thing? Janet was going to have her way, didn’t she always? … “Okay, where the hell is this school?”

  The day Nicole was enrolled Bill went with them. Something very personal happened to him when Nicole quickly let go of his hand and sat on the floor next to a little boy, speaking to him as though they’d been buddies from day one. Soon they were sharing crayons, and Bill felt even more pushed out when she pecked him on the cheek and said, “Good-by daddy” so fast and went back to her work of art. For a week Bill stayed home from work in the morning so that he could drive Nicole home at noon … he wasn’t about to trust her to the care of some stupid bus driver … He’d read about how they sometimes careened off the highway. The fantasized horrors got to be so extreme he could hardly work at the office in the afternoon. Never once did he hear his own mother’s voice in his, but it was there….

  At the end of the year he had saved enough of Nicole’s crayon sketches to all but cover the walls in his office. More than once he looked up from the drawing board to see her extraordinary work, all thumbtacked to a special bulletin board he’d bought. By God, she was really good, for a four-year-old. He especially, no surprise, liked the one captioned “Daddy.” The composition was at least as good as some of the nutty art he’d seen. And her description of it to him one night, as he held her on his lap, was more proof that she was turning into the brilliant little girl he was always sure she’d be … the sky was blue and the tree was green, the moon was yellow and the house was white. Red, purple and orange flowers grew along the path leading to the front porch … He laughed at the baggy suit on the spindly-legged man with the thick brown hair, a round face with two large brown eyes and a curved smiling line below the nose of two dots.

  “Do you like it, daddy?”

  “I love it, princess, but you best of all,” he said, holding her closer. “Just don’t grow up so fast, baby … stay a little girl for just a while longer. For my sake, okay, princess?”

  And though princess had said she was willing, time was not … Somehow, when he wasn’t looking, she was already turning six, and once again he was going to school with Janet to enroll Nicole, except this time in first grade. Today was even more painful. He’d allowed Nicole to slip away, had been deprived of her baby days.

  Janet couldn’t help but think again about the generations overlapped … Bill reacted exactly as his mother had when he watched three-year-old Jason climb aboard the bus on his way to nursery school for the first time. Just as he had with Nicole, and as his mother had with him.

  Later that afternoon he sat in the office unable to concentrate on anything. Swiveling his chair around, he stared out the window to the bridge beyond. It wasn’t that the view was so impressive—in fact, he scarcely noticed it now. He just felt so empty. The children seemed to notice him less, both Jason and Nicole had their own playmates, and on weekends went to someone’s house to stay overnight. Matter of fact, Janet didn’t seem to need him very much either. He seemed someone moving around between the lives of his children and wife … hell, no one noticed he was there too … that he needed attention … well, he didn’t mean to sound sorry for himself … What the hell, he didn’t want to sound like his mother … not that she hadn’t been entitled at times … But he was a man, and a man didn’t complain. Not then, after six years in suburbia, and not even when the same thoughts still plagued him after ten years.

  No, Bill didn’t complain … not openly … and his stiff upper lip kept Janet in the dark, assuming the marriage was basically okay … After all, she didn’t have much time to dwell on it … taking the children to the orthodontist, to dancing, tennis and swimming lessons, and then there was the PTA, and at election time getting involved in who the next assemblyman, senator or congressman would be. That was the least she could do, she figured, for their children’s welfare, their future. Still, for all her involvements, her first priority, she reminded herself, was Bill. By four every afternoon she was home to supervise dinner, refresh herself and get ready for his homecoming. He was, after all, her husband …

  They were considered the ideal couple. Especially envied was the apparent permanence of their marriage, based on its predictability … Janet’s weekly routine worked like a clock that kept perfect time. It wasn’t always so easy, and sometimes she’d have liked to have skipped a beat, slept late, violated the routine. But she owed it to Bill, to the marriage, she would remind herself. And he did seem content, although at times she thought he seemed rather remote, unusually quiet.

  Monday was pot roast. Wednesday was men’s night at the club. And Saturday was men’s day at the club; after eighteen holes of golf, Bill would shower, and immediately after dinner the men would settle down to a game of poker or gin rummy. The women had dinner at one another’s homes on Wednesdays and Saturdays, chatted about the latest fashions, exchanged gossip, discussed the latest fad diets … then out came the bridge tables. After the children were driven to school there was tennis in the morning—Kit and Janet were partners for doubles—a quick sandwich at noon, and then it was time to pick up the kids.

  Janet spent a great deal of her time chauffeuring. It was like reliving her own childhood back in Kansas. Sometimes she laughed at herself. She still had that midwestern mentality. For all the supposed sophistication of living in Westchester, she was no different than Mary Lou back in Wichita.

  The McNeils … theirs was a charmed life. Ask anyone …

  Anyone except, for example, Bill McNeil. He was jealous of Janet’s tranquility, and decent enough to be angry with himself for begrudging her it. But a
fter ten years of being submerged by … no, not by … in … in Westchester … he felt himself, almost literally, being strangled. He needed air … needed to get away … they all did … And so it was that one night after dinner he took out the brochures on Hawaii and made the earthshaking announcement as he passed them around, “I bought tickets today, it’s sort of my surprise …” And having said that, he handed the tickets to Janet.

  She looked at the date and then at Bill’s face. Reluctantly she said, “Darling, these are for March.”

  “So?”

  “Well, we can’t very well take the children out of school—”

  “Oh … right … well, how about April, Easter vacation?”

  “Mr. McNeil, you’ve got a date. April 15.”

  On the fifteenth of April, at precisely 9:45, Bill checked the nine pieces of luggage plus Janet’s carry-all equipment, and then they boarded TWA to fly off into the wild blue yonder. Bill settled into his seat. The only annoyance was when their plane was held up for two hours in San Francisco because of poor visibility. Also, Jason wasn’t being too cooperative. After exploring all the airport shops, having purchased enough bubble gum, Hershey bars and comic books to last until he was ninety, he got tired and even sullen. His persistent question … “When are we going to leave, dad?” drove Bill nuts. His own patience growing a bit thin, he informed his son that he expected it would be when they were ready. Janet, of course, kept her cool throughout, reminding him that Jason was, after all, pretty tired, and still a little boy … Well, damn it, he had feelings too, even if he wasn’t a darling sweet six-year-old … Oh, God … what was the matter with him? … jealous of his own son … ?

  At nine-thirty Honolulu time they debarked, walked into the terminal to be greeted by fragrant leis, steel guitars and merry voices singing out aloha.

  Leaving most of their gear and keeping their suite reservation at the Royal Hawaiian, they took off again to Maui. But as far as Bill was concerned, a day of traipsing through the flower-filled paths, exploring the island, smelling the sweet perfume of hibiscus was very much for the birds, and he suggested it might be an idea to get back to the excitement of Honolulu. Jason supported his father wholeheartedly on that one. He couldn’t wait to get back to the giant waves and the surfboard. So back they went.

  After the children had been kissed goodnight, Janet and Bill danced until three in the Monarch Room of the Royal Hawaiian, then went to see the last act at the Haymarket, their eyes slightly out of focus now as they watched the grass skirts swaying back and forth on the hips of the dancers. The four Mai Tais Bill had consumed made Polynesian dancing seem the only way to go … They also, with the dancing, made him ready for love. He could hardly wait to get Janet back to the room …

  That same morning he was up at eight. Leaving Janet asleep, he met the children in the sitting room and the three of them went to breakfast. Boy, they were gorgeous kids, he thought as he looked at them over the rim of his coffee cup. The thought was interrupted by Jason’s, “Dad, could we rent a boat today?”

  “That’s a good idea, Jason. How do you feel about that, Nicole?”

  “Oh, I’d love it, daddy.”

  “Okay, we’ll go up and tell mother.”

  Janet was yawning away the last vestiges of sleep when Bill came into the room.

  He kissed her. “How’d you sleep, honey?”

  Smiling, she answered, “Just great … after you simmered down.”

  “Was I simmering?”

  “Among a few other things. I’m not complaining.”

  “Well …” beaming … “how’d you like to go boating today?”

  “Darling, would you forgive me if I didn’t? I might—pardon the small joke—only rock the boat … Frankly I’d just sort of like to be lazy on a chaise and soak up the sun.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Sure … you’d better have the hotel pack a box lunch if you’re going to be out that long.”

  “Good idea … we’ll meet you back on the beach.”

  When the children saw the fourteen-foot sailboat they were delighted, and judged it, simultaneously, “terrific.”

  Bill laughed as he helped them aboard. “Okay, matey,” he said to Jason, “let’s haul anchor and head to Tahiti. Crew, rig the mainsail. First Mate Jason, hang onto this rope; Second Mate Nicole, grab onto this one,” Bill said, tossing the ropes to them. The sea was calm and mesmerizing as Bill switched on the ignition, starting the auxiliary motor.

  Three miles out to sea a gentle wind filled the sail, and Jason was thrilled that the boat was able to glide now on its own power. “Okay, matey, take over,” Bill said to him, and stood behind as the little boy steered a straight course.

  At noon Bill said to Nicole, “How about some chow, mate?”

  “Okay, captain,” she said, and handed her father and Jason their box lunches. As the two children sat devouring ham sandwiches and Cokes, Bill munched on a cold chicken leg with one hand while steering with the other.

  “This is the best fun we’ve ever had, daddy,” Nicole said.

  “Mr. Christian’s the name, if you don’t mind, and don’t throw those boxes overboard, Jason. The sea’s not a garbage can.”

  “Okay, sir … but I got to go to the bathroom.”

  “Head.” But Jason had already disappeared, missing the nautical equivalent….

  Abruptly the winds shifted, shocking, startling Bill. The little vessel twisted and turned nervously. “Okay, crew, you’re confined to the galley, and keep your life jackets on. In fact, I want you to sit on the floor.”

  More annoyed than frightened, they went below.

  Giant waves now began to break over the sail like huge fangs, and Bill was beginning to pray for the Coast Guard. Fighting the wind, he managed to lower the sails and start the auxiliary motor, but he seemed unable to steer the boat properly. Lord … he’d sailed all his life but the waters of Maine weren’t the erratic tropics. He kept wondering what he’d do if the boat capsized, which at this moment he felt was a real possibility. The rush of water made it almost impossible for him to see what he was doing. Wiping his face with his hands, he had a moment of visibility before the next giant wave hit, and there was Jason, crying and standing in the open door of the cabin below. As loudly as possible, the boy yelled out, “Nicole hit her head and she’s bleeding.”

  Switching the motor to automatic, Bill rushed below. Nicole was lying on the floor, unconscious. Lifting her head gently, he implored her to wake up, to speak to him …

  Slowly she opened her eyes, but there was no recognition in them. And he wanted to die. As the boat twisted, turned, he held the child with one arm while his other arm went about Jason.

  It was Jason who intruded on his sense of helplessness. “Daddy, I think it stopped.”

  Bill looked at his son, then realized that the boat was calm and quiet once again, the sea having calmed as abruptly as it had erupted. Quickly he put a pillow under Nicole’s head, ripped a blanket from the bunk and covered her.

  “Okay, Jason, take care of your sister, we’re heading home.” A moment ago he wouldn’t have counted on that being possible.

  Bill carried Nicole ashore, hailed a taxi and sat in the back seat, Jason at his side, as the driver sped them to Honolulu’s General Hospital.

  After Nicole was taken to emergency he called Janet, who wasn’t in her room and had to be paged.

  They’d been gone for so much longer than Bill had said. Instinctively she knew something had happened. When she heard Bill’s voice on the phone she was sure.

  “Janet … don’t get upset, but we got into a rough sea and Nicole had a little accident …”

  She thought her knees would buckle. Swallowing hard, she asked what had happened.

  “Well … she hit her head … but I’m sure—”

  “Where are you?”

  “General Hospital … emergency.”

  She found Bill waiting with Jason in the hall. “Where is she?” She tried to hold
back the tears, but they were spilling down her cheeks.

  “She’s been taken upstairs.”

  “How badly is she hurt?”

  “The doctor told me she has a slight concussion.”

  “Concussion?” She bit her tongue … not wanting to express the anger that was mixed in her fear for Nicole … plain old swimming wasn’t enough … he needed to show the children what a free spirit he was … never mind if they were maybe not ready for it … and the echoes of his mother’s words came through … “Bill’s too young to take on the responsibilities of a family …” She knew her son … it seemed he still was her son …

  But Nicole, not Bill or herself, was the concern now. She found her lying in bed with her head bandaged, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to faint. She put her cheek against Nicole’s as the child reached out to embrace her.

  “Hi, mom.”

  “How are you, darling?”

  “Great, mom. I just got a bump on my head.”

  Janet silently thanked God. “Are you sure, you’re not just saying that?”

  “No, mom, really. Boy, it was sure rough and poor daddy had a terrible time … Jason told me. But daddy’s a great captain.”

  Laughing out of relief, Janet said, “You’re a pretty fair skipper yourself, darling.”

  The doctor confirmed that it was a mild concussion, and after a few days of observation Nicole was allowed to go back to the hotel, apparently as good as new. Bill and Janet, though, had sustained scars less easily healed, though they tried to dismiss the resentment and anger they’d felt at the time … she feeling he’d foolishly jeopardized the lives of the children, not to mention his own life … he resenting the guilt her silent accusations made him feel … especially since he knew damn well there was more than a little justification for them … Well, Janet told herself, motherhood being what it was, her reactions were probably stronger and more protective than her wifely understanding, which wasn’t altogether fair to Bill. And Bill was hardly proud of himself when he heard his young son having to defend him with, “It wasn’t daddy’s idea, it was mine and it’s not his fault if a storm came up …” God … nice try, Jason, but I guess I am supposed to be the adult …