Mitla Pass - Leon Uris [149]
Two and a half hours ticked by tortuously until Gideon heard the front door being opened and the girls ran in jabbering.
“Hon, I’m home,” Val called.
In a moment she entered the bedroom to find Gideon sitting on her chaise longue by the fireplace, with a lap robe over him and his head wavering from rage, weariness, and fever.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she said.
“Close the door,” he rasped, “and lock it.”
Val smiled. Oftentimes, the sicker Gideon was, the more passionate he became. He looked terrible. She’d try to talk him out of it. She stood over him and reached to feel his forehead. He took the motel key from his robe pocket and nipped it down at her feet.
Val stared at it a moment, then sagged into the easy chair opposite him. “Thank God it’s over with,” she croaked, “it’s been a nightmare.”
“You and our old pal Johnny been making a little bang-bang. Funny, John came over to my studio for lunch yesterday. He never mentioned a word about it. We had a lot of laughs about a couple of hookers he’d been seeing. Now pick up the phone and call him. Invite him over tonight, without Cindy. Tell him I’m out of town and you’re hurting. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“Hadn’t we better talk about this first?”
“No, ma’am,” Gideon answered as his hand came from under the blanket and he leveled a pistol at her. “Do as I say. Maybe you guys will put on a little dog and pony show for me ... if I don’t blow his head off first.”
Val tried to dial but was unable. The receiver fell from her trembling hand.
“Leave it for now,” Gideon commanded, “and start talking.”
“Can I get a glass of water?”
Val staggered into the bathroom and fought for composure. Half the water spilled down her front and she gagged as she drank. She returned and sat, hands folded, rocking back and forth in misery, eyes cast down.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Every God-damned last thing!”
She tried to look at him, but it was not possible. “Maybe you want to know where my head was at that time, maybe not.”
“Just start talking.”
“You were writing The Tenderloin and you were very unhappy. You kept going up to San Francisco alone, as often as you could. You didn’t want me with you to clutter up your prowling.”
“Our daughters were in school!” Gideon snapped.
“Mom always came up to take care of them before that. You didn’t want me.”
“It was too filthy a job for you, Snow White. You didn’t want to come, so don’t give me that shit.”
“All right, but you let me know you were taking off for parts unknown without us, just as soon as you could ... Israel ... China ... always trying to run away. I felt, so ... so unwanted. And then there was that visit to Dr. Murray. No more children, he said. It meant we couldn’t try for a son. I was depressed as hell and you were gone.
Then I came to realize that my going back to art school was just a sham. I had to face the fact I didn’t have the talent. So, I was alone and low and terrified of losing you. Oh, baby, let me take your temp. You look terrible.”
“Keep talking.”
“You went up to San Francisco over the Fourth of July and we were angry. You missed Penny’s birthday. ...”
“So it’s my fault and Penny’s.”
“It was my fault! Mine! There were lies I had to tell myself in order to do it. I had to justify it! I even pretended that if you knew about Johnny, it would turn you on.”
“Oh God!”
“You and I ... we ... we had been talking about swinging. I’m not making it as an excuse. If I’ve learned one thing out of this, it’s that we all have to take the responsibility for our deeds. But I needed excuses because there was some kind of bile starting to come out of me and I couldn’t stop it. So, I turned on the one man I loved to justify failing him.”
“What happened?”
“Johnny popped over one afternoon looking for you. He was about to start shooting that Western at Fox and he wanted you to