The Oak Leaves (29 page)

43

The church service ended, and Talie glanced at Aidan as the three of them walked out of the auditorium. He probably hadn’t heard a word of the sermon.

“We’re going to get Ben,” Talie said. “You’re welcome to come back to our place if you want.”

Aidan shook his head. “I’m going to Dana’s.”

Talie and Luke exchanged glances.

“I have to return the journal, at least,” Aidan said, as if defending the visit.

Talie put a hand to his arm. “I’m so sorry, Aidan.”

He tilted his head. “For what? For me, because your sister is dumping me?”

“No. I should have said something sooner—about the genetics. I denied it as long as I could. Too long, as far as you and Dana go.”

He patted the hand she rested on his forearm. “I’m not going to blame you for giving me the time to fall in love with Dana while she still wanted to date somebody. What’s the old saying? It’s ‘better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’?”

She pressed her hand downward. “Are you sure it has to be lost, Aidan?”

“Talie—” Luke’s reproachful voice was like a sting to the deepest part of her heart.

She never took her gaze from Aidan’s. “I want you to pray about
all
the options—not just how you and Dana will get through a breakup.”

* * *

Talie and Luke picked up burgers on their way home from church. Even fast food was acceptable since she couldn’t taste it anyway. It wasn’t the most nutritious meal, but it was certainly the most convenient, especially when cooking a traditional Sunday meal was the last thing Talie felt like doing today. Only happy families sat down to formal Sunday dinners. Old-fashioned, Norman Rockwell families.

Talie started to take a bite of her burger but thought she might be sick. Right now
no
food, nutritious or otherwise, appealed to her. That morning her mind had found a new source for uneasiness, and she hadn’t been able to shake it during the entire church service or since. A single thought had erupted like a germ in her brain, multiplying and festering inside her head until it spread to her heart.

One question demanded an answer: Did she love Luke enough to let him go?

44

My life has taken so many unexpected turns these past few months that I begin to feel nothing can surprise me. And yet this evening has proven once again that one never knows what will happen next.

I sat with Peter at dinner, at one end of the table near Beryl and Christabelle, while both sets of parents were at the other end having their own conversation. We had just finished the last course. I could not help but send more than a few glances my parents’ way. Who were those two people hosting this dinner, so congenial and at ease with their guests? They laughed and exchanged stories as if they were not a bit like the two most private people I had known all of my life. It was a sight to behold, especially considering Peter’s parents seemed to find them charming.

Then Melvin arrived in the dining room and made the most startling announcement. . . .

“Sir Reginald Hale,” Melvin intoned, much like the proper butler whose role he had taken on.

Cosima cast a startled gaze toward the door as the announced man confidently entered, hat held in his gloved hands, an easy smile upon his face. What could possibly have induced Reginald to make the long trip to Ireland? And uninvited?

The man in question bowed a greeting, then briefly scanned those seated at the table until his gaze settled on Peter.

Clearly Peter was as shocked as Cosima. Coming to his feet, he looked from Reginald to Cosima, then back to Reginald. “Reginald.” He offered no greeting beyond that, rather stood silently as if waiting for the man to explain his unexpected appearance.

Reginald’s smile was so familiar it was as if nothing had ever changed. “I’ve come in peace, Peter. In repentance and the deepest desire to set things right between us.”

Peter folded his arms. “I can’t imagine why. You’ve proven you’re no friend to me and less than that to Cosima.”

“I’ve come to beg forgiveness.” Reginald now turned from Peter to Cosima. “From both of you. I am deeply sorry for whatever heartache I may have caused.” He looked back at Peter. “It was only temporary though, wasn’t it, chum? If it hadn’t been for me, no doubt you never would have met Cosima.”

“But why did you lie to me, Reginald?” Cosima asked.

His gaze went momentarily to the floor. “Only to keep you from talking to anyone about . . . about the curse. So long as you believed I’d already received counsel from someone as honorable as Peter, you had no reason to ask me to speak of it to anyone. I worried others might not approve. Some people actually believe in silly curses, Cosima, and as I made quite clear from the beginning, I was willing to overlook that. As Peter obviously does.”

“But you told her a lie,” Peter said. “Reginald, I have no use for lies.”

“Of course, man! I never did lie to you, though, did I? And I only did what I did to achieve my goals. I see the error of my ways now, and that’s why I’ve come. To ask your forgiveness and let both of you know I wish you the best.”

Peter seemed to be studying his old friend, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. Once lied to, Cosima thought, trust was not so easily won back.

Then Peter looked at her. “His wrong hurt us both, but he’s correct that it was temporary. Selfish motives seldom have a good result. But it was you he wronged most, Cosima. Say the word and I shall send him away. I can’t think why he endeavored to travel here without proper invitation.”

Cosima took a deep breath. She’d thought she hated Reginald when he’d betrayed her, but with her heart so full of love for Peter it was difficult to find room to hate anyone. So many images of Christ’s forgiveness came to mind that she knew what she had to say. She should not hesitate. And yet she did.

Reginald, however, looked so hopeful and friendly that her hesitation ended.

“I’ve been forgiven so many times,” she said. “’Twould be wrong of me not to offer the same to you, Reginald.”

He walked forward, stopping next to her chair. For a moment she thought he might bend down and embrace her for the very first time. She was relieved when he only took her hand, but he shook it so thoroughly it jarred her all the way to her shoulder.

Cosima’s mother stood. “We’ve just finished our dinner, Mr. Hale, but we can have something brought in for you if you like.”

He was already shaking his head. “No, but thank you. I do wonder, though, if I might beg use of the lovely room I had the last time I was here. I plan to return to England tomorrow, but it’s a bit late to start back tonight.”

“Yes, of course. But, oh dear, that particular room has already been given to Peter. I hope another will do.” Cosima’s mother sent a footman for Melvin, directing him to have a room prepared. “You’ll join us for tea and cake, though, won’t you, Mr. Hale? If it’s stopped raining, we plan to enjoy it on the veranda. The setting sun is a lovely sight from there.”

“Of course.” He bowed again.

While her parents led the way, Cosima moved to meet Peter, but Reginald came to her side before they reached each other.

“You are most kind to forgive me, Cosima. I wonder if I might speak to you again before I depart tomorrow?”

Peter was there, taking her hand in his. “What about, Reginald?”

“I’d like to speak to both of you, actually,” he said, smiling broadly. “Only to reestablish our friendship, of course.”

Cosima could see no good in such a notion. “I don’t think—”

“But you mustn’t refuse me, Cosima. Before I left England, I spoke to the dowager. She was very plainspoken, as you might expect. I need only regain your friendship and all of London will welcome me with the favor I’ve always wanted.” He paused, attempting to coax a smile from her with one of his own. “You’ll do this for me, won’t you, Cosima? And give us a foundation right here, tonight?” He looked at Peter. “The three of us. I will wait for you in the library at eleven, for just a half hour of companionship, nothing more. To see if my future might be salvageable?”

He was gone before Cosima or Peter could refuse, catching up to Cosima’s parents on the way outside.

Beryl approached them before moving toward the rest of the party. “I heard all of that, and if you ask me it’s preposterous that your grandmother said any such thing, Cosima.”

Peter nodded. “It doesn’t seem likely, does it?”

Cosima frowned. “He must be desperate to reestablish friendship.”

“Indeed,” Beryl said, then harrumphed. “Without Peter’s endorsement and connections, his businesses will be half what they are today.”

“I suppose that’s why he wishes to speak to me, too,” Cosima said. “To help persuade you back to a friendship with him.”

“You should do just the opposite, Peter—personally
and
professionally,” Beryl said.

“It would be the end of him were I to sever professional ties with him.” He offered a half smile at Cosima. “What of the forgiveness we just offered?”

“Forgiveness is one thing,” Beryl said before Cosima could reply. “Keeping him under the prosperity of your wing is quite another.”

Peter led them on the same path to the veranda the others had taken. “We’ll see him and decide after that.”

45

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Luke,” Talie said quietly, then put her straw in her mouth and drew hard on her vanilla shake. The action eliminated the tremble in her lips, and she hoped to swallow away any weakness in her voice. She must be strong, for Luke’s sake.

Over his king-sized hamburger, he looked at her. “Shoot.”

Since she’d first had the idea to broach this topic, she’d been unable to come up with a good way to begin. She’d hoped a way would come with the moment, but with that moment here, the words didn’t come after all.

A prayer for wisdom was in order, except the whole subject was such a miserable one she hadn’t talked to God about it, not even at church.

“I was wondering . . . well . . . thinking, I should say . . . that with this fragile X business . . . Ben being the way he is, and not knowing if the new baby will be all right—”

Luke set aside his hamburger and looked at her with brows gathered in concern. “Are you regretting we didn’t go ahead with the amniocentesis?”

“No.” She paused again. “This isn’t about the amnio. It’s something . . . harder to talk about.”

He took another bite of his hamburger, then some fries. He was behaving so naturally she knew he hadn’t a clue what she was about to offer him.

“I don’t know what could be hard to talk about between us, Tal,” he said. “We’ve done just about everything there is to do with each other: laughed and cried and everything in between. What’s up?”

“It occurred to me, Luke, that you . . . well, you’re a very attractive man.”

He smiled and raised his brows. “And that’s hard to say?”

She shook her head, not calmed by his easy attitude. She knew he was grappling with everything; that had been clear last night. But somehow he was able to get around it better than she and appear as if he had the strength to face the days. She would miss that strength.

“You know how I feel about you, Luke. You’re it for me. But I . . . I was thinking, because of fragile X . . . maybe I’m not
it
for you. Or maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“What do you mean?” He was still eating. The topic hadn’t made an impact.

“I mean maybe you shouldn’t have married me. Maybe you should get out while you’re still young and start over with someone who can give you healthy children. Someone who isn’t a carrier of a disease.”

Luke’s mouth momentarily dropped open, revealing a half-chewed portion of burger. He shut it instantly then dropped the handful of fries suspended midway from the tabletop. “What are you
talking
about, Tal?”

She turned from him because she couldn’t look at him anymore, at his concern and confusion and love so obvious in his eyes. She didn’t deserve him; there was no doubt about that. And he deserved so much more than she could give him.

Talie raised a hand to her face, surprised to find it wet. Before she could answer his question he rose and came to her, lifting her into his embrace. His arms felt familiar around her, secure and welcome and exactly what she needed.

Luke held her tight, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Talie, Talie,” he whispered.

She couldn’t speak. She had planned to say many things. But none of them came out. She just sobbed in his arms.

He stroked her hair, then pulled back and raised her face to his. “I love you, Talie. You used to know what that means. What about our vows? Good times and bad, sickness and health. What kind of love do you think I have? So shallow I’m going to bail out?”

“I only know you deserve better than what I’m bringing to this marriage.”

He held her at arm’s length. “What are you talking about, Talie? Why should something you have no control over, something you had no choice in, outweigh all the other things we have? We were born with two halves of the same brain, remember? Can’t separate that.”

“But it’s your brain I’m thinking of, Luke!” She was calmer now. The tears had stopped. “You deserve to have children, sons just like you.”

“Oh, come on, nobody can guarantee that. What if we had daughters? Think any of them would be like me?”

“Maybe.”

“Not in the way you’re imagining—some little clone walking around here who could inherit all my best traits—even if we have perfectly healthy boys. That’s never a guarantee, Tal, even without a genetic disease. Aidan is proof of that; remember his story? Besides, who knows what’s in my genes? Maybe I’m a candidate for cancer or diabetes or stroke or something. Maybe I’ll die young, and you’ll think you never should have married me because you signed up for a long life together.”

She stared at him, none of his protests making an impact. “Maybe you should follow your own advice and get out while you’re still young.”

He gazed down at her. “My own advice?” He paused. “That’s what this is all about? My advice to Aidan.”

She didn’t deny it. That was, after all, the truth.

“Talie, I had reasons for what I said to Aidan.”

“Of course you did. He wants healthy children, and you know how much it hurts not to have that happen.”

“Yes, that’s part of it.” He let go of her, pulling a chair away from the table and sitting, resting his forearms on his knees, looking at the floor. “All through church this morning I asked myself why I gave Aidan that advice.” He offered a grim smile. “Now that this has come up, it’s almost as if God was trying to tell me something, so I’d be prepared to give you a coherent answer. And I do have answers, Talie. It might have something to do with how hard this has been for us, but that’s not all. Aidan’s faith is still new. What if he decides God isn’t protecting him the way he expected? I think he knows Christians aren’t automatically excused from pain and suffering—otherwise it wouldn’t take any faith at all to come to God, just logic—but I don’t know if I’d add such a heavy decision as this to someone whose faith isn’t even a year old.”

Luke stood again and took Talie into his arms again, rubbing her back. “Besides, I couldn’t have told Aidan to go ahead and marry Dana even if I wanted to. That would be adding peer pressure to his pros-and-cons list. And I’m not going to judge him if he does decide to get out. In fact, by my telling him to do that he’ll have to be
more
certain if he does stay in this relationship. If he asks her to marry him, it won’t be because others think he’s unchristian or some kind of schmuck to get out now. I did it to strengthen whatever decision he makes, not to hurt Dana.”

Tears filled Talie’s eyes again. “Earlier, you sounded so logical. All logic and no love.”

“You know I get that way sometimes. . . . Like I said when I told you to read the journal, I can’t live up to Peter Hamilton.”

“That . . . that was part of my thinking, Luke. Maybe you don’t want to. I’m giving you an out so you don’t have to.”

He held her at arm’s length. “But I
want
to, Talie. I want to be noble and faithful; it’s just not easy. Not as easy as it seemed to your great-great-great-grandfather.”

“I don’t think it was easy,” she said. “Not at the time. Not for any of them . . . I read Cosima’s guilt and identified with that right away.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t about either guilt or setting a bar so high no one could reach it. It was about rising above all that. Faith above fear.”

“I guess I saw the guilt more than you did because I fell into the same trap myself.”

Luke put a hand on each side of her face. “Your guilt and my fears of not living up to expectations will get us into trouble, Talie. We’ll have to remember that—both of us—when it comes to Ben. I love you. I’m not bailing out. I love Ben, too. How could I leave either one of you?” He brought one hand to the child growing in her womb. “Or this one? We don’t know the reasons for any of this, Talie, but we do know the facts. God gave us these two kids, and we’re meant to raise them. With His help. And we will. Together.”