A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA (28 page)

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Johnny murmured as they stepped out into the sunlit street outside the justice halls. He did not say that he felt it would be some time before the matter was resolved, and he knew it would be very hard for Anthony to avoid seeing or hearing some of the discussion that was sure to follow Olivia’s show. He worried about the effect all the coverage might have on Anthony’s already fragile psyche. He could only hope that the love and support he knew Anthony could count on from his friends and family, would be enough to soften the blow.

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At three o’clock that afternoon, Peter put up the ‘Closed for Lunch’ sign on his gallery door and walked to the back room where Eric was unwrapping the sandwiches he and Andrew had ordered from the deli next door.

Eric switched on the portable TV in the corner and the three friends sat down to watch the Olivia Winters Hour.

“Is Eve watching?” Andrew asked.

“Are you kidding?” Peter chuckled. “She wouldn’t miss this one. She did say she’s never going to watch the show again after today—but we’ll see how that goes.”

“Nick said he and Jeff and Monica will be watching it at the office,” Eric said, chewing his sandwich. “Are we all ghouls or what?”

“Ssh…” Andrew pointed at the screen. “Here she comes!”

Olivia’s face filled the screen.

“Oops,” Eric muttered. “Someone hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately…”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Olivia said, her voice low and husky. “This is a sad occasion for me personally. The lady I interviewed for today’s show is, as most of you may be aware, no longer with us. Her untimely passing was the result of suicide—and my heartfelt condolences go out to her family in their time of sorrow…”

“Oh my God,” Peter groaned. “What a phony…”

“During my interview with Patricia Hastings,” Olivia continued, “she made it quite clear that she disapproved of the content of some of my shows, and also of several guests I had interviewed in the past. She was critical of what she felt was my lack of moral values in having gay men and women as my guests, and

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felt betrayed by my interviewing her own son and daughter—survivors of child abuse at the hands of her husband. Listen to what she had to say about that situation during our interview…”

Peter gasped at the close up image of Patricia Hastings on the screen. Her lips were pursed with distaste and her eyes were narrow slits of contempt as she glared at Olivia.

“My God,” Andrew whispered. “That’s Anthony’s mother?”

The video replay started and Patricia’s cold brittle voice filled the room.

“Charles was a loving and doting father—he loved his daughters, but in the purest way…”

The three friends sat open-mouthed listening to Patricia’s dismissive version of what was going on in their home. How both Emily and Paula had lied about their father’s abuse. How they had tried to involve their brother in their lies, and how they were rude and inattentive at school—always tired, listless…

“Of course they were tired, you stupid woman,” Eric roared. “They were being kept up at night by your bastard husband.”

The tape stopped and once again Olivia, poised, regal and slightly sad, faced the camera. “Mrs. Hastings saw fit to pointedly ignore these signs that are so often indicative of child abuse, and offered her daughters no help. I should point out, however, that her son Anthony tried to excuse his mother’s behavior due to the fact she was herself threatened with retribution by her husband should she interfere.” Olivia paused and smiled sadly. “It seems though that this young man’s love for his mother was not enough to spare him her wrath—listen to this…”

Again, Patricia’s ranting echoed through the room. “…all that is vile and unnatural in human nature…they are the cause of my son’s fall from grace…and that wretch he lives with…and you, with your liberal views…you and your ilk…bring damnation down on your head…!”

“Jesus wept,” Andrew whispered. “She’s totally insane…”

“Poor Anthony,” Eric murmured. “How did he ever survive all that crap?”

They watched transfixed as Patricia lunged at Olivia and struck her a blow to her face.

“Whoa!” Eric yelled, then looked at the others sheepishly. “Sorry…”

Peter stood as the commercial break was announced. “Well, that was even worse than I thought it would be,” he said. “I hope to God that Anthony and Emily are not watching this.”

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Nick pushed himself away from his desk with a disgusted grunt. “Can you believe this horse manure?” He strode over to the water cooler and poured himself a cup. “I don’t know which one of those women is the harder to watch—the mother with that holier-than-thou bigotry or Olivia, with all that phony sincerity. She gives me a belly-ache!”

“I kind of feel sorry for the mother,” Monica said, looking at Jeff.

“Really? In what way?”

“Well, under all that hard shell she’s built around her, I think she’s a desperately lonely woman. I mean, I don’t think even she would admit it—or would have admitted it—but there’s something about a person who has gone so far out on a limb with their beliefs, that it makes me wonder if this was just some kind of defense against what she perceived as everybody arraigned against her.”

“You got all that?” Nick asked. “All I heard were the ravings of a madwoman.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was deranged in some way,” Monica agreed. “But don’t you think it’s kind of sad that someone is driven to this kind of madness by feeling that she’s all alone in the world…?”

“But there was no reason for her to feel alone, Monica,” Jeff interrupted.

“Anthony reached out many times to his mother trying make her understand that, no matter what, he still loved her.”

“And I’ll bet she loved him,” Monica said. “Even though she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. She must have missed him in her own way.”

“Yeah, in her own way,” Nick muttered. “Her way or the highway—that’s the way it was.”

They fell silent as Olivia reappeared on the screen for the second half of the show. She introduced a panel of ‘experts’—Lester Hinds, a psychiatrist, Bob Forbes, a police detective, Alexis Stuart, a social worker, and a priest, Father Buchanan.

“Who’s the flatfoot?” Nick asked.

Jeff shook his head. “Don’t know him.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Olivia was saying, “I have brought these experts together in order to find out just what motivated Mrs. Hastings to abandon her family, and feel such hatred for those…shall we say…those who might be seen as misfits in the fabric of today’s society.”

“Who’s she talkin’ about?” Nick asked.

“You and me,” Jeff said, his face grim. “Or rather Peter and me, but gays in general. That’s probably her mean little way of getting back at us for not going along with her hare-brained idea of putting Patricia on her show.”

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They listened while the psychiatrist rambled on about deep-rooted fears of alienation, self-loathing, low self-esteem and just about every cliché in the APA. After a while, Olivia called a halt to his long-winded diatribe and turned her attention to the social worker, Alexis Stuart, an attractive middle-aged woman with intelligent eyes.

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” she said with complete candor, “that Mrs.

Hastings’ actions were as damaging as those of her husband. Denying her children protection from their father’s abuse made her an accessory.”

“But you heard her say that the girls were lying,” Olivia prompted her.

“Yes, that’s how she dealt with it. I’m afraid that’s a common occurrence, tragic though it may sound. Many times the children are ignored, because either the mother does not believe her children, or she feels she may be in danger of violence from the husband…”

“Which Anthony, her son, intimated in his earlier interview with me,”

Olivia interjected. She turned to the detective. “If, say the wife comes to you and reports that her husband is abusing their children, what steps do you take to prevent it?”

“Well, of course we would investigate the matter,” Detective Forbes replied.

“If there was sufficient evidence to support her claims, we would make an arrest.”

“And would you offer the wife protection?”

“It depends on the circumstances, but if we felt it was necessary, then yes.”

“So was there any excuse for Mrs. Hastings not to report her husband’s criminal activities?”

“None at all,” the detective said firmly.

“Well, I would disagree there…” Alexis Stuart was quick to interrupt.

“Every case is different, and in some instances the wife may have a very real cause to fear retribution from her husband. The police cannot offer protection forever.”

Olivia nodded, then turned to the priest. “Father, you heard Mrs. Hastings talk of her religious beliefs. How would you equate them with the teachings of the Catholic church?”

“Well…” The priest folded his hands over his ample belly and frowned at the camera. “She is right in one thing—homosexuality is a sin…”

Over in Peter’s gallery a collective groan went up. “Well, he oughta know,”

Eric said with contempt. “Jeez, these guys are such hypocrites.”

Olivia was smiling benignly at the priest. “But surely, in this day and age, acceptance of even
deviant
behavior is becoming accepted…”

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“That’s two!” Peter exclaimed. “Why that phony bee-atch…Why did I ever get involved with her? If I ever see her again…”

“Listen up,” Andrew said. “That lady social worker is pissed at Olivia.”

“Miss Winters,” Alexis Stuart was saying; “I am frankly extremely perturbed that you would use that expression. I deal with many young boys and girls who suffer a great deal of harassment because of people like you who categorize them as deviants. Their lives are harsh enough without a major celebrity, like yourself, suddenly becoming their enemy. Many of these kids are young girls who admire you for what they perceived to be your strength of character. I am sure they will be bitterly disappointed to hear you use such a disparaging and damaging term.”

Olivia stared at Alexis, for the moment unable to overcome the shock of this unexpected attack. “Oh, but…but…” she stammered. “Some of my best friends are gay!”

This started a titter from the audience that became loud laughter as everyone recognized that old clichéd saying.

“Really, Miss Winters?” Alexis Stuart was not laughing. “I think even your friends may take exception to your calling them deviants.”

Olivia quickly looked into the camera. “We’ll take a quick commercial break, and be right back.”

“Oh, way to go Alexis,” Eric yelled. “I love you!”

Peter and Andrew grinned at him, then Peter said, laughing; “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Olivia so flummoxed. I’m so glad we’re taping this. I want to see that stupid expression on her face again and again.” He paused, then shook his head. “What am I saying? I’m getting as bad as her.”

“She is a cow,” Andrew said. “Boy, were you ever right about her.”

“Guess who’s never going to be invited back on Olivia’s show?” Nick asked, with a shout of laughter.

“Alexis Stuart!” Jeff and Monica yelled in unison.

“Guess who’s never going to risk doing another live show?” Jeff asked.

“Olivia Winters—if she’s smart,” Monica said.

Jeff chuckled. “She must be hopping mad right now. I’ll bet Miss Stuart is getting the look of death.”

“I have a feeling she won’t be bit intimidated by Olivia,” Monica observed.

“That’s one strong lady—but you have to be in that kind of job.”

“You’re right—and she was right about those questioning kids needing all the support they can get. They don’t need some snooty talk show host calling
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them names.” Jeff glared at the television as Olivia appeared once more. “Here comes the wicked witch…”

Olivia, once again all smiles, reintroduced her guests and then asked for a closing statement from each one. The detective and the psychiatrist gave what sounded like their usual stock answers.

“Boy, that psycho guy doesn’t seem to have a much of a handle on this,”

Nick observed. “He’s obviously never had anyone as loony toons as Patricia Hastings on his couch. What a waste.”

Father Buchanan was next to speak, and surprisingly made a plea for compassion to be shown to the ‘poor deceased lady whose life must indeed have been one of loss and loneliness’.

“Interesting you should say that, Father Buchanan.” Olivia leaned forward in her chair as she addressed the portly priest. “Mrs. Hastings made much of her faith and belief in God. Should that not have been of some solace to her?”

The priest shook his head. “I fear that the lady’s beliefs were somewhat misguided…”

“How so?”

“It would appear that she spent a great deal of her energy directed at threatening people, like yourself Miss Winters, with God’s eternal damnation. Such, shall we say, over-the-top verbiage is more in line with the like of television evangelists, rather than the doctrine of the more respected churches. Had Mrs.

Hastings come to me for guidance, I would have directed her to pray for those she felt were in danger of losing their immortal souls. I would certainly not condone threatening them with the hellfire and brimstone type punishment so readily called upon by preachers who deal in sensationalism, instead of God’s holy word. If Mrs. Hastings was in fact being counseled by someone purport-ing to be a man of God, then I would say that he should be ashamed of himself for misleading her in this way.”

“Strong words, Father,” Olivia said, turning to the camera. “Well, we’re almost out of time…”

“Oh, Miss Winters…?” Alexis Stuart interrupted. “Sorry…I know you have to wrap this up, but I would also like to add just a few words.” She continued without waiting for Olivia to respond. “I just wanted to reinforce what I said earlier. If there are any young boys or girls watching this who are questioning their sexuality, please don’t be ashamed of what you are and how you feel. If you feel you cannot talk to friends or your parents, don’t despair. There are many, many wonderful organizations out there to help you…” She paused and glanced at the priest who was throwing her a look of disapproval. “Also, I
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