The Sackler Trap

Epilogue: Golden Years

The little girl stood on tiptoes, her wide brown eyes scanning the row of golden medallions with the tragedy and comedy masks in relief on their surface. She knew it would spin in its half-circle frame if she touched it. She read the names engraved on the black base of each award: Julie Landor – Evening Primrose, Julie Landor – The Last Five Years, Julie Landor – The In-Between, Julie Landor – The Little Stranger, Julie Landor – Your Hit Parade...

The little girl's eyes went to the opposite shelf and she grinned at the golden statuettes that stood in formation. Some were winged women hold what appeared to be giant atoms above their heads. She'd heard her grandpa call the woman "Emmy". Others were golden knights holding crusaders swords and standing on a reel of film. She remembered what her grandpa had called him: Oscar.

"Sarah!"

The little girl spun around at the sound of her name and saw her grandmother pushing open the door to the room. Framed in the doorway, Julie Landor at sixty-five, still had the posture and figure she'd had at twenty-seven. Her hair was shorter these days, silvery brown and styled each week to maintain its curly bouffant. Her warm, honey-colored eyes still sparkled with a zest for life and her smile was still as infectious as ever. Especially when she looked at this, her favorite grandchild, Sarah Sackler.

"Now what are you doing back in here?" Julie asked, her smile knowing.

Sarah was smiling with wonder. "Grammy, tell me about this one!" She pointed randomly at a Tony award. The In-Between.

Julie smiled coming into the "trophy room" as they called it of her and her husband's upstate mansion. She took the little girl's hand and sat down on the sofa facing the awards and pulled her granddaughter into her lap.

"Well, I won that one for a musical play I was in with your Uncle Hadley. It was very steampunk. I got to wear this fantastic costume with clock works and it had the most amazing music. You'll have to let me play the soundtrack for you one day." Julie stroked her granddaughter's dark curls and smiled fondly. "I won that the same year your grandpa won his first Oscar. And the year we found out I was pregnant with your dad. It was a year for celebrations, that's for sure!"

Sarah beamed as she heard her Grammy re-tell the story. She had heard it a dozen times before, but she never tired of it. They stared in silence at the array of awards and photographs on the wall, including one of Julie and Adam, five years after their marriage, each holding their own Oscars for their work in Watertown, a dark drama based off the Sinatra concept album of the same name. They had respectively won Best Actor and Best Actress, a zenith moment in their careers.

"Tell me about when you and Grandpa met."

That request never failed to make her Grammy throw her head back and laugh uproariously. As if it was the funniest and yet most precious memory she had. Julie pulled her granddaughter closer to her and began recounting her first day on the set of The Chemist. Adam Sackler persistently chasing her until she agreed to go out with him, the fun they'd had in the early days on the set, and the way he had made her push past her inhibitions about doing love scenes. She shook her head fondly. Of course, his agenda wasn't always unselfish, but how could she blame him for that? He was head over heels for her, it had just taken a mutual friend's wedding for her to see that. People were amazed she had "trapped" him into his own trip down the aisle. But it was a match made in heaven as thirty-five years of marital bliss and five children had proven.

The first three children were stair steps, all boys, one right after the other, barely a year apart. The last two were surprise babies who had arrived when Julie was in her forties. Both girls and both now studying at Juilliard. The older three were all married to lovely women and all had kids of their own. Julie smiled and tears of happiness filled her eyes. She felt like the luckiest woman alive.

"Aunt Evie is taking Arthur and me on her yacht tomorrow," Sarah confided.

"Oh!" Julie exclaimed. "You'll love that...sailing around the Hudson, seeing the sights."

Arthur was Sarah's older brother, named for the late Broadway legend, Arthur Blunt. Eve's husband had passed about ten years after his and Eve's wedding and she'd never remarried, instead happily taking on the role of loving godmother and aunt to the Sackler brood. Julie understood it all too well...she had married the love of her life too.

"When's Grandpa coming home?" Sarah sighed impatiently.

Julie kissed the soft dark curls. "Soon, love," she said. "Soon. He's doing an interview with that lady from the..."

A door slammed.

"Fucking journalists...they're all fucking the same! Such bullshit questions about nothing...appreciate your interest in my movie, pretentious bitch."

A familiar shuffle accompanied by the thump of a wooden cane on the entryway floor signaled the arrival of the master of the house.

Sarah and Julie looked at each other and giggled. "Sound's like Grandpa's home," I said wryly.

Soon his massive frame was filling the doorway and his booming voice as his eyes focused on Sarah, was filling the trophy room. "Why if it isn't my own little Sarah Bernhardt!" he cried in a terrible falsetto French accent.

Sarah squealed and jumped up from her grandmother's lap, running to her grandpa as he hooked the cane over his arm and held both hands out to her. He swept her up and she was engulfed in his embrace as he swung her none too gently to and fro.

"Adam, watch out for your back!" Julie called out.

But her husband was oblivious, having too much fun. He finally set Sarah down and his eyes found Julie. A tiny thrill went through her and she was in her twenties again, just like that. The years had been kind to him as well. He was still as tall as ever, although a touch of arthritis in in his knees had made him slightly bow-legged and made the cane necessary. In his jeans, button down flannel over a black tee shirt, and black and red Nikes, however, he still dressed like a seventh grader at age seventy-three, Julie thought shaking her head. His gorgeous salt-and-pepper hair still tempted her to run her fingers through. And she did, all the time. She rose and went to him and he bent to kiss her, a kiss that could still curl her toes and ignite passion between them more than three decades later.

Sarah cleared her throat. "Grammy was just telling me how you two met, Grandpa."

Adam glanced down at his youngest grandchild then back to Julie. "Oh, she was, was she? Did she tell you how she used to chase me all over Studio C and hide in my dressing room, and leave lipstick kisses all over my..."

Julie slapped Adam's arm. "Adam! I did no such thing!" she cried. "Stop telling her that!'

Adam laughed and as always it was infectious. He scooped Sarah up again and drew Julie close to him with his other arm and together the three of them went out, Sarah talking excitedly about her yachting trip tomorrow and her lead role in the upcoming school play.

Adam and Julie simply exchanged that special look they had perfected over the years that conveyed all the feelings that thirty-five magical years had wrought.

"I love you, sultan," Julie whispered.

Adam leaned over and kissed her again. "Love you too, kid."