Free The War of the Roses: The Children by Warren Adler

down, Victoria. Let’s start fresh, clean, and open. If we don’t chop down cherry trees, we don’t have to make the truth an issue.”
    â€œWhy so paranoid about the truth?”
    â€œThe married state demands it,” he said.
    â€œSo this is a firm proposal,” she giggled, searching his face to be certain.
    â€œNever doubt me. Never. Ever.”
    â€œI won’t.”
    He propped himself on an elbow and studied her face for a long time. He imagined he could see her thoughts tracking through her brain. Then, suddenly, she lifted her head and kissed him on the lips. They held the kiss a long time.
    â€œThere’s more,” he said after a long silence. He had been thinking about this ever since he had become accustomed to the inevitability of their relationship.
    â€œMore?”
    â€œWe need kids. We need to be a real family. A real family will do the trick.”
    â€œWhat trick?”
    â€œWe are both in need of repairs, Victoria.”
    â€œTwo, then. I wouldn’t want an only child. It’s bad enough to be fatherless. But an only child? No way.”
    â€œAgreed,” he said, holding out his hand. She took it.
    It was another happy moment, and they sealed it with yet another test of authenticity. Later, it was Victoria who spoke first.
    â€œWe’re very vulnerable,” she said.
    â€œVery,” he agreed, knowing exactly what she meant.
    â€œWe’ll never escape our conditioning, Josh. Never. Means we have to be alert when the garbage we’re carrying starts to seep out of the suitcase.”
    â€œHow will we know?”
    â€œProbably by the stink.”
    â€œWhoever smells it first will tell the other that it’s on its way.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    â€œWe’ll fumigate our souls.”
    â€œThere you go again, saying it in an odd way.”
    â€œBy any other way, they’re still the true words of Rose.”
    â€œA rose is a rose is a rose,” she mumbled, making a face.
    â€œWhat you see is what you get. I’d like all Roses to be like that.”
    â€œMessage received,” she said, patting him on the penis. “Besides, I just love the long stems.”
    His case was her very first resignation.
    How could he have known then that he would be the first to chop down a cherry tree?
    ***
    Lying there beside her, he felt his stomach heave and he pounced out of bed to go to the bathroom.
    â€œAre you okay, Josh?” Victoria mumbled when he came back.
    â€œI’m fine,” he whispered.
    But he wasn’t fine. There was only one way he would be fine. Tomorrow, he decided. Once and for all, he would make himself fine again.

Chapter 3
    It was weirdly ironic. Here he was sitting at the very same table in the very same coffee shop that he and Evie had had their discussion only two days before. Only now he was dealing with a different kind of pain.
    â€œThe fat lady has sung, Angela,” he said, noting the power of association. Still, he hoped the reference would put a lighter spin on the circumstances of this meeting. It didn’t.
    â€œI didn’t hear the song,” Angela said, her cheeks flushing, lips tight as she aggressively leveled her eyes at his face. “All I see is a chicken dancing around with his head cut off.”
    Her outburst surprised him. He had expected reluctant acquiescence, not aggression.
    â€œWe agreed, Angela. When one person wanted out, it was over.”
    â€œYou think I can’t tell when it’s over? Yesterday it wasn’t over. Remember yesterday?”
    They had done it in the back seat of his car in the building garage in the middle of the day. And he had sent her one of his weird stickum notes and offered sweet nothings on the telephone. Two days ago he had sent her flowers.
    â€œI know this is abrupt, Angela. I’m sorry. I can’t hack it. It’s eating me up alive. Some people are built for this kind of secret life. I’m