“No. You go ahead. I’ll be all right.”
He sat up all night, thinking about his future, and he wondered angrily, What future?
Lara and Philip had dinner together every evening, and after dinner they read or watched television and then went to sleep.
Philip said apologetically, “I know I’m not being much of a husband, Lara. I just…I just don’t feel like sex. Believe me, it has nothing to do with you.”
Lara sat up in bed, her voice trembling. “I didn’t marry you for your body. I married you because I was wildly head over heels in love with you. I still am. If we never make love again, it will be fine with me. All I want is for you to hold me and love me.”
“I do love you,” Philip said.
Invitations to dinner parties and charity events came in constantly, but Philip refused them all. He did not want to leave the apartment. “You go,” he would tell Lara. “It’s important to your business.”
“Nothing is more important to me than you. We’ll have a nice quiet dinner at home.”
Lara saw to it that their chef prepared all of Philip’s favorite dishes. He had no appetite. Lara arranged to hold her meetings at the penthouse. When it was necessary for her to go out during the day, she would say to Marian, “I’ll be gone for a few hours. Keep an eye on Mr. Adler.”
“I will,” Marian promised.
One morning Lara said, “Darling, I hate to leave you, but I have to go to Cleveland for a day. Will you be all right?”
“Of course,” Philip said. “I’m not helpless. Please go. Don’t worry about me.”
Marian brought in some letters she had finished answering for Philip. “Would you like to sign these, Mr. Adler?”
Philip said, “Sure. It’s a good thing I’m right-handed, isn’t it?” There was a bitter edge to his voice. He looked at Marian and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Marian said quietly, “I know that, Mr. Adler. Don’t you think it would be a good idea for you to go outside and see some friends?”
“My friends are all working,” Philip snapped. “They’re musicians. They’re busy playing concerts. How can you be so stupid?”
He stormed out of the room.
Marian stood there looking after him.
An hour later Philip walked back into the office. Marian was at the typewriter. “Marian?”
She looked up. “Yes, Mr. Adler?”
“Please forgive me. I’m not myself. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I understand,” she said quietly.
He sat down opposite her. “The reason I’m not going out,” Philip said, “is that I feel like a freak. I’m sure that everybody’s going to be staring at my hand. I don’t want anyone’s pity.”
She was watching him, saying nothing.
“You’ve been very kind, and I appreciate it, I really do. But there’s nothing anyone can do. You know the expression. ‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall’? Well, I was big, Marian—really big. Everybody came to hear me play…kings and queens and…” He broke off. “People all over the world heard my music. I’ve given recitals in China and Russia and India and Germany.”
His voice choked up, and tears began rolling down his cheeks. “Have you noticed I cry a lot lately?” he said. He was fighting to control himself.
Marian said softly, “Please don’t. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“No! Nothing’s going to be all right. Nothing! I’m a goddamn cripple.”
“Don’t say that. Mrs. Adler is right, you know. There are a hundred things you can do. When you get over this pain, you’ll begin to do them.”
Philip took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I’m becoming a damn crybaby.”
“If it helps you,” Marian said, “do it.”
He looked up at her and smiled. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re a pretty wise twenty-six, aren’t you?”
“No. I just know what you’re going through, and I’d give anything if it hadn’t happened. But it has happened, and I know that you’re going to figure out the best way to deal with it.”
“You’re wasting your time here,” Philip said. “You should have been a shrink.”