The Wolves of Midwinter (The Wolf Gift Chronicles 2) - Page 30/116

It quietly amazed him, the way Celeste accepted this kindness without a word of gratitude, as if it were her just due.

Grace led her out of the room and up the stairs. Reuben wanted desperately to speak to his father, but Phil was now looking away, his face abstracted and thoughtful. He appeared to have removed himself completely from this time and place. How many times had Reuben seen that same expression on Phil’s face?

The group sat in silence until Grace reappeared. She looked at Reuben for a long moment and then she said, “I didn’t know you could get that angry. Wow. That was scary.”

She laughed uneasily and Phil responded with a little half laugh and even Jim forced a smile. Grace placed her hand on Phil’s and they exchanged a silent intimate glance.

“Was it scary?” asked Reuben. He was still quaking with anger. His soul was shaken. “Look, I’m no hotshot doctor like you, Mother, and I’m no hotshot lawyer like her. And I’m not a hotshot missionary priest in the slums like you, Jim. But I’m nothing like the man she’s described here. And not a single one of you uttered a word in my defense. Not a single one of you. Well, I have my dreams and my aspirations and my goals, and they might not be yours but they are mine. And I’ve worked at them all my life as well. And I’m not the person she made me out to be. And you might have defended Dad here against her, even if you had no stomach to defend me. He didn’t deserve her poison either.”

“No, of course not,” said Jim quickly. “Of course not. But Reuben, she can still abort this child—if she changes her mind. Don’t you understand that?” He lowered his voice. “That’s the only reason we sat here listening as we did. Nobody wants to risk her wrath against this baby.”

“Oh, the hell with her,” Reuben said dropping his voice against his anger. “She won’t abort it, not with the money that’s changed hands here. She’s not insane. She’s just mean-spirited and cowardly like all bullies. But she’s not insane. And I won’t put up with her abuse anymore.” He rose to his feet. “Dad, I’m sorry about what she said to you. It was ugly and dishonest like everything that came out of her mouth.”

“Put it out of your mind, Reuben,” said Phil in a steady voice. “I’ve always felt very sorry for her.”

This clearly surprised Jim and Grace as well, though Grace was obviously wrestling with a multitude of emotions. She was still holding tight to Phil’s hand.

No one spoke, and then Phil went on. “I grew up the way she did, son, working for everything I got,” he said. “It will be a long time before she can figure out what she really wants in this world. For the child, Reuben, for the child, be patient with her. Remember this child is liberating you from Celeste, and Celeste from you. That’s not a bad thing at all, is it?”

“I’m sorry, Dad, you’re right,” said Reuben. And he was ashamed; he was completely ashamed.

Reuben left the gathering.

Jim came after him, following him silently up the stairs, and went right past Reuben into Reuben’s bedroom.

The little gas fire was burning under the mantel and Jim took his old favorite upholstered wing chair beside the hearth.

Reuben stood at the door for a moment, and then he sighed, shut the door behind him, and went to his old leather chair opposite Jim’s.

“Let me say something first,” Reuben started. “I know what I’ve done to you. I know the burden I’ve put on you, telling you ghastly things, unspeakable things, in Confession and binding you to secrecy. Jim, if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t do it. But when I came to you, I needed you.”

“And now you don’t,” said Jim dully, his lips quivering. “Because you have all your many werewolf friends at Nideck Point, correct? And Margon, the distinguished priest of the godless, right? And you’re going to bring up your son in that house with them. How are you going to do that?”

“Let’s worry about that when the child is born,” said Reuben. He thought for a moment. “You don’t despise Margon and the others. I know you don’t. You can’t. I think you’ve tried and it hasn’t worked.”

“No, I don’t despise them,” Jim conceded. “Not at all. That’s the mystery of it. I don’t despise them. I don’t much see how anyone could, not based on what I know of them, and based on how well they treat you.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Reuben said. “More relieved than I can say. And I know what I’ve done to you with these secrets. Believe me, I know.”

“You care about what I think?” Jim asked. But it wasn’t sarcastic or bitter. He looked at Reuben as if he earnestly wanted to know.

“Always,” said Reuben. “You know I do. Jim, you were my first hero. You’ll always be my hero.”

“I’m no hero,” said Jim. “I’m a priest. And I’m your brother. You trusted me. You trust me now. I’m desperately trying to figure out what I can do to help you! And let me tell you right now, I am not now or ever was the saint you think I am. I’m not the nice person that you are, Reuben. And maybe we should set the record straight on that now. That might be a good thing for both of us. I’ve done terrible things in my life, things you know nothing about.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” said Reuben.

But Jim’s voice was raw and there was a look in his eyes Reuben had never seen before.

“Well, you need to believe it,” Jim said, “and you need to simmer down with regard to Celeste. That’s my first lesson here, my first concern. And I want you to listen. She could still abort this baby at any time. Oh, I know, you don’t think she will and so forth and so on, but Reuben, just toe the line, will you, till this child is born.” Jim broke off, as if he didn’t know quite what he would say next. When Reuben tried to speak, Jim started up again.

“I want to tell you some things about me, some things that might help you understand about all this. I’m asking you to listen to me now. I need to tell you. Okay?”

This was so unexpected, Reuben didn’t know quite what to say. When had Jim ever needed him? “Of course, Jim,” he answered. “Tell me anything. How could I turn you down on such a thing?”

“Okay, then listen,” said Jim. “I fathered a child once and I killed it. I did that with another man’s wife. I did that with a beautiful young woman who trusted me. And I’ll have that blood on my hands all my life. No, don’t say anything but just listen. Maybe you will come to confide in me again and trust me, if you know just what kind of person I am and that you’ve always been a good deal better than me.”