“It isn’t because of you. Don’t you understand? It’s because sometimes I’m completely exhausted, at the end of my endurance.”
His hearing had always been exceptionally keen, and now her shrill voice, risen, infuriated him.
“And how do you think it is for me?” he retorted. “I’m riddled with guilt. Do you think I miss your little innuendos? ‘So-and-so is pregnant again with their fourth.’ And you can’t be pregnant again because of me, because of the wedding present I brought you. Right? I sit in the office and listen to Jasper telling everybody about his kid’s sense of humor. ‘A real standup comic,’ he says. I go from the courthouse to lunch, and all I hear is men talking about their sons: Little League, Cub Scouts, medical school—you name it—and I sit there with my mouth shut.”
“You have a daughter, you forget.”
“I? Forget Julie? Listen to me, if I had six daughters and no sons at all, I would be one hundred percent happy. It’s having a son without having him that puts a knife into my guts.”
She turned away toward the darkness beyond the window. The poise of her head, the languid, hopeless droop of her gesture, was infinitely sad. And without seeing them, he knew that tears had already gathered behind her eyelids. He knew that out of mercy and love, he ought to stop now, yet pain drove him to say what was better left unsaid.
“And your father. Do you think I’m not aware that he comes here to dinner when I’m at a meeting, and usually has an excuse when he knows I’ll be home? Do you think I don’t hear those innocent remarks of his, such as, ‘I’m the wrong man to give any advice. We never had a sick child like this in our family on either side, and we have a history that goes back seven generations before me.’ Oh, I remember that one. I remember them all.”
Without moving, still turned toward the window, she replied, “Maybe you’re too sensitive. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Nothing. I just want—I want the impossible, that everything should be what it used to be.”
“We are both almost drowning in self-pity, that’s what’s the matter. And we must stop it, Phil told me, or we will really drown.”
Phil again. Well, if he helps her, why not?
“No more self-pity tonight, then,” he said. “Let’s go up to sleep. We need it.”
He was already in bed when Ellen was still on her usual round of the children’s rooms. The house and the night outdoors were quiet, until the stillness was cut by a strange, anxious cry. It is a bird attacked in its nest, he thought, or some small, foraging creature, rabbit or woodchuck, caught by an enemy. And he was disturbed that so small a thing as a cry in the night could hurt him so.
But are we not all as vulnerable as these? Can we not all cry out in the night, alone? And except for the fact that men are not supposed to weep, he could have wept.
When Ellen came back, she went to the mirror and brushed her hair. He had a double view of her, the reality and the reflection. Her young breasts were carved like marble under the classic flow of her light green gown. She was a classic statue in flesh, still and always the most beautiful woman in the world. And he loved her so!
“You wore green the first time I saw you,” he said. “Do you remember how I knew you were some kind of artist? Yes, and that you always got what you wanted? Come here. You’ve brushed it enough. I need you.”
When she came to him, there was a small, rueful smile on her lips. “Not all of our days are like this one, Robb. This was a bad one. I didn’t mean everything I said about not being able to bear any more. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Robb. My God, I love you.”
“I know.”
“It’s just that I worry so much about the future.”
“Yes, yes. But not now. Oh, come here.”
Often enough but not always, the union, the merging of body and spirit is complete. When she cried out, he kissed the hollow in her throat from which the cry had come. This time there had been no pretending.
He was filled with gratitude. She was his love, his world, and his life. They would endure together. They would survive.
CHAPTER NINE
1984
Something unexpected happened one day. Not having had time to eat since his early breakfast, Robb, stopping near the courthouse for a quick sandwich, was hailed by Will Fowler seated alone at a table.
“MacDaniel! Like to join me?”
The encounter was odd. People from Fowler, Harte and Fowler were rarely seen singly. They were probably the most powerful lawyers in the state, and every good restaurant in the city, including coffee shops, had a table unofficially reserved for them and those who would inevitably cluster about them: politicians, the established as well as the hopeful, job-seekers, and clients. Will, as the younger Fowler, had several times been Robb’s adversary, so they had taken each other’s measure; yet they had never sat across from each other at a table. Now, in the mid-afternoon stillness of the little room, there seemed suddenly nothing much to say.
Then Fowler began, “I had a long morning. This last year, for some reason, the work has seemed to pile up so that sometimes at the end of the day I feel as if I’ve hardly made a dent in it.”
No doubt true for you, Robb thought, although not particularly true at Grant’s. But he replied agreeably that yes, it did pile up.
“I heard the tail end of your case last week, that motorboat affair. I thought your summation was tremendous.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment.”
“It’s well deserved. You had a very hard case. I wouldn’t have taken a bet on that jury.”
Had he been asked on the strength of limited, formal acquaintance with Fowler, for his opinion of the man, he would surely not have used any words like “warm” or “expansive.” Those alert eyes were all-encompassing; you felt that he would notice your table manners, your fingernails, and your diction. He would have an opinion. Having no self-doubts in any of these departments, however, Robb gave himself up to listening and making his own observations.
“Still, I suppose, this is nothing compared with a practice in New York, for instance, or Washington, or any other major city. There was a time when I toyed with the idea of going up north. I’m glad I never did it, though.” Fowler smiled as if amused at such boyish folly. “ ‘Toying’ is the word. In my heart I knew darn well I’d never leave the nest. This town is busy enough. It’s a good place to live in. For me, of course, it’s a family place. There’s something nice about being in a family kind of community where people all get along together pretty well which, thank heaven, we do.”
Fowler smiled again, a nice smile, neither oily nor artificial. Still, Robb felt that there was perhaps something behind it, as if Fowler were very gradually leading up to something. But to what? No, that was absurd.
“Do you have family in town, any other MacDaniels?”
“None at all anywhere except for my wife and children. My wife is Wilson Grant’s daughter, but you know that already.” And Robb flushed at his clumsiness in stating the so-perfectly obvious.
“Yes, yes, a fine man. Salt of the earth. A scholar. I always think he would have been a superb professor. You went to the law school here, didn’t you? I went north to Yale, but only because I wanted to go away from home for a while. They had no magic up there, I assure you. Our school can hold its head up with the best of them. Let me tell you an amusing story apropos of that.”
He was a good raconteur, well read and well traveled. Ellen would enjoy his wit. A man like him would have an agreeable wife. They would be a fine couple to know even though they are, or at least Fowler is, a good ten years older than we are, Robb was thinking. But then, we don’t go out much, anyway.…
Fowler stood up. “It’s been nice talking to you, Robb. By the way, I’m ‘Will,’ as you’ve no doubt learned. The ‘Will’ is for ‘Willard,’ which I’ve never liked. In fact, I refuse to answer to it.”
“I’ll remember that, Will.”
“Good. By the way, I might be giving you a ca
ll one of these days. Well, back to work.”
Now what was all that about? Robb wondered. He was still wondering when, later in the afternoon, Eddy Morse came by on one of his “take-a-chance” visits.
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d take a chance on finding you in. If you’re too busy, say so and throw me out.”
“No. I’m finishing up to get home by six. It’s Julie’s birthday. How are you? Haven’t seen you in a month. No, it’s been more than a month.”
“I know. I’ve been busy. Devlin’s buying up the United States from Portland M. to Portland O. Or almost. Keeps me working like a beaver.”
“It seems to agree with you.”
Indeed, Eddy appeared to be growing younger. He sparkled with energy. Even his healthy teeth, revealed by a short upper lip, were sparkling. When he raised his arm, gold cufflinks gleamed.
“Like my new watch? I treated myself. Patek Philippe.”
“Handsome. You can spend money like water, Eddy.”
“Why not? So, what’s new with you?”
“Nothing much.” And then, for no reason at all, Robb mentioned the afternoon’s brief encounter.
“He wants something,” Eddy said promptly, giving Robb his usual wise nod.
“What makes you think so?”
“Otherwise he wouldn’t have spent an hour with you. Time is money for those guys.”
“Funny, I had a feeling he was leading up to something, only he never got to it.”
“What did you think it was?”
“I had no idea.”
“I think you’re going to be offered a job. That’s what I think. Why else would he say he’ll be giving you a call?”
“That’s ridiculous. He knows I’m Grant’s son-in-law.”
“So?”
“It wouldn’t be decent. Wouldn’t be honorable.”
“Oh, good God, join the world, Robb. Listen to me.” A ray of sunlight glistened on the Patek Philippe as Eddy leaned forward on the desk. “You’ve earned a reputation as one of the best litigators in this city, and you know it. Or you should know it.”
“Well, I don’t believe he’s going to offer me anything, but it doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t accept, anyway.”
“Then you’d need to have your head examined. They’d give you half as much again as you’re getting here. And that’s for starters.”
“I’m doing all right, Eddy. We don’t owe a nickel. We’re getting along fine.”
“I hate to mention it, but what about that boy of yours?”
“I don’t want to talk about him. It’s Julie’s birthday, I told you, and I just want to feel happy.”
“Gosh, I forgot the date. Oh damn, I always remember it, too. You know I do. How old is she? Ten now? She’ll have her present tomorrow, a day late.”
“She’s nine, and if you call her up this evening, she’ll be perfectly happy with that.”
“No, no. From Uncle Eddy, the girl gets presents and a visit not a phone call. I’m going out now before the stores close. Does she still play with dolls?”
“Oh yes, but don’t be extravagant.”
“Mind your business. I’ll be over this evening. No dinner. No time.”
Together they went out to their cars and drove off in opposite directions, the one on his cheerful way to buy a little girl’s dream of a doll, and the other filling now with the vague disturbances that Eddy had produced.
At home the decorations for the afternoon’s party were still evident. On the foot of the drive, the wind was flinging the balloons about, and someone had dropped a pink crepe-paper basket on the walk. Mrs. Vernon was tidying the dining room.
“How did it go?” Robb inquired.
“Pretty well. Ups and downs as usual. Ellen and Julie are upstairs, angry at each other. Penn’s in watching TV.”
A long sigh tried to clear the tension in Robb’s chest. From the hall he could see the back of Penn’s head and the flickering front of the television. He wondered what the boy really understood of the life that came and went on the screen. He would have sat there all day if they allowed him to. As it was, he spent too many hours there. Yet it gave him pleasure, so perhaps there was no harm in it.
“Hi, Penn,” he said.
Men on horseback preceded by a pack of barking hounds bounded across an open field in pursuit of a fox. Penn was hunched, unmoving, entranced. When Robb called again, Penn turned to show an expression of delight.
“Wow-wows, Daddy!”
“Dogs,” Robb said. “Say ‘dogs.’ ”
“Dogs.”
“That’s right.”
He sat down on the sofa and put his arm around the small shoulders. The boy looked up at him, smiling. The smile was something new; for so long, there had been only apathy or resistance on that face. Rarely had he allowed any affectionate touch, but now he was able to tolerate one. So Phil Lawson’s encouraging words, and almost certainly his personal intervention with Penn, were proving themselves.
“Rich hours” Ellen called the hours he spent with Lawson. Phil had a calming effect upon the child. Whatever there was in Penn, and Phil himself conceded that there wasn’t much, was ever so slowly emerging.
Robb bent to kiss his cheek, and withdrew, then looked down into a face so like his own, with the same strong cheekbones and chin faintly cleft, that it startled him. But the soft, wondering eyes trusted a world in which Penn would never compete, a world in which he had neither weapon nor armor. And for an instant, becoming his own parents who had suffered the pain he was feeling now, his parents who had died as they had, Robb was overwhelmed with the sadness of life. Those who had not known him in his youth—for he thought of himself as a man whose youth was behind him—would not recognize the hopeful being he had once been.
The dogs were crowded, excited, and yapping. Penn laughed.
“Wow-wow,” he cried, he who should have been in the first grade learning to read.
“Dog,” Robb repeated.
“Wow-wow,” Penn said.
Robb went upstairs. It was rare for Ellen and Julie to be angry at each other. More than likely, this being a party day, their disagreement stemmed in some way from Penn. The smallest alteration in the ordinary routine of the household, a new kind of breakfast cereal in his bowl or the arrival of a party of guests at the door, held the possibility, although not the guarantee anymore, of disturbance. One never knew.
He knocked on Julie’s door. When she opened it, he saw that she was still in her party dress and that she had been crying.
“What is it?” he whispered, putting his arms around her.
“Mommy is angry at me because I yelled at Penn.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
“There must be something special, though.” Not feeling like smiling, he smiled. “Because you do yell at Penn, and Mommy doesn’t get angry. We know it’s all right to feel angry at him sometimes. We all feel it. We just need to control it, that’s all, my Julie. You understand what I mean.”
“I did control it some. But today I was really mad at him. He wet his pants, and it made a wet place in my room.”
“He hasn’t done that in a long, long time, though.”
It was the excitement of the day that had upset him. Even though he had been taken away to Mrs. Vernon’s daughter’s house, he had seen all the preparations.
“And Grandpa came in with my present. He said Penn should never have been born. He always says that. And Mommy cried.”
Tears on a happy birthday! But Ellen isn’t made entirely of iron, is she? Who is? She has a lot more iron in her than many of us have.…
Ellen had heard them. When she came out of their room and kissed his cheek, he thought ironically that in the midst of distress we duly expect things. A wife meets her husband with a kiss when he comes home, and he returns it. We are well brought up, or well trained, either one. And instantly he was ashamed by the thought. He grieved.
“It was a nice party,” she s
aid brightly. “We had a little misunderstanding, but those things happen, don’t they, Julie? We both know Penn didn’t mean to do what he did, and anyway, I’ve cleaned it up.”
“That’s not why you cried,” Julie said. “It was because of Grandpa.”
We look at each other, we two, Robb and Ellen, while a little girl with her wise great eyes sees more in us than we can ever guess.
“Grandpa brought you a wonderful dollhouse,” Ellen said, still brightly. “Let’s go downstairs and show it to Daddy. We’ll all have to help carry it up to your room.”
She wanted to smooth things over. But they were so very complicated! The old man’s generosity, both within the family and in the community, was incompatible with the rest of him. And he was Ellen’s father. So be it.
They went down to dinner. Penn talked about how “men runned with wow-wow.” He had just one bad spill, and that only on his capacious bib. Julie, recovered, offered cheerful feminine gossip about her class. Ellen took Robb’s hand under the tablecloth. After dinner Eddy arrived, bearing a European doll so exquisite that it belonged in a museum. Julie’s new croquet set was laid out on the lawn and all through the soft May evening they played, until the dark fell and the children went to bed.
The two men walked together to Eddy’s car.
“A very successful birthday, I would say,” Robb observed. “And the doll was the crowning glory of it. As always, thanks, Eddy.”
“My pleasure.” Then came a slight frown and a little hesitation, before the next words. “There’s something you might want to hear, or maybe not.”
“Bad news?” Robb asked quickly.
“Not at all. It’s only that I’m not sure you’d like the subject, and I don’t want you to be angry with me.”
Eddy’s expressions were astonishingly changeable. This evening he had, for instance, been jaunty, comical, affectionate with the children and was now hesitant, prepared to be scolded. Very gently Robb answered, “I won’t be angry. What is it?”
“It’s about Lily. She’s married. Got married a couple of years ago. I just found out.”