A group of office doors with blind-covered windows occupies the back wall. I squint at the small placard on the closest door, but I can’t read it. Oddly, there’s a large, blank section of paneling in the center, dividing them into two groups with four doors on each side. I look more closely, and I think I see a rectangular outline in the pine boards. Maybe it’s a pocket door.
My cloak suddenly feels like a sweltering sauna as I scan the room again, seeing no one. The silence is so complete I hear the whiskey dripping on the floor behind me. I should sneak back outside and wait, before anyone sees me. Whatever happened, it doesn’t involve me. In fact, it’s not even my business unless Reason wishes for it to be. At this point, he hasn’t invited me into it. I should respect that instead of acting like a crazy woman rushing in to protect her man. Right. I turn back to the door. I’ll haul my rear end right back outside where it belongs.
I hear a distinct ding. It sounds like—
Before I can finish my thought, another sound comes: the slide of a heavy door opening.
An elevator?
It can’t be. I turn back to the rail. But it is an elevator, and it’s still open. Reason has his arms hooked around an old man. He hauls him to his feet, but he immediately slumps back down to the floor again. Reason leans down and grabs the old fellow by his midsection then hoists him over his shoulder. The other two men step off the elevator behind him, followed by Brice who ushers them away. The Cajun is gone.
“Get that trailer unhitched.” Brice’s voice sounds stern.
The two men just look at him for a second, but they turn and walk away. One of them says something to the other, who steals a glance at Brice and shakes his head before they disappear through a door. I hear it slam as I watch Brice trot along behind Reason. He still talks to him, but Reason ignores him. He plops the old man onto a recliner and stands back with folded arms.
I’ve made a subtle shift here, I realize, from rescuer to spy. But I can't move—can’t pull my eyes away from Reason. This stern side of him fascinates me. He’s very in charge of something here, whatever it is. And I suddenly really need to know. All those strange things the mayor said earlier fill my mind again. My chest tightens with a surreal mix of dread and curiosity.
“How long ago did he leave?” Reason demands.
The old man sits in a teddy bear slump on the sofa cushions, hardly capable of the struggle I heard earlier. His head lolls forward.
“Dex! Wake up.”
Dex’s head rolls back, but he snaps it forward again with wide eyes. He looks at Reason and blinks. “I didn’t mean it, boss,” he slurs. “I’ll take all my stuff and be out my afternoon. I don’t deserf to be here. I ruined it all—all of it.”
“What happened to the permits?”
“He took ’em.”
Reason throws up his hands and looks up at the ceiling for mercy. I lean back.
“What did you tell him? Say it again—everything you can remember.”
“He said the Elders sent him. Said he—I can’t remember what he said.”
“What did you say, Dex? You.”
“I told him Erin Sinclair was in the parade with you.”
“Did he even ask that?”
“I dunno. I got so nervous. You know I can’t lie. He had this look in his eye like he could see in my head. I told you I’m the wrong guy for this, Boss. These other fellers can tell a lie if they need to. I crack. Can’t do it. I ruined it all didn’t I? Oh Lord have mercy, I betrayed you and I couldn’t help it!”
Reason looks down at the floor and shakes his head. “Take him upstairs, Brice. Keep an eye on him till he sobers up. Don’t let him hurt himself and don’t let him leave.”
Dex tries to stand, but he only slips down to the floor in a slow motion slide down to the base of the sofa. Now he kneels in front of Reason. His head wobbles as he looks up at him. “I might’ve told him she came to dinner. Oh, I don’t remember.” His head falls forward in shame. A moment later, he lifts it. “Boss, I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’d lay down my life for you. But I just can’t lie. Please forgive me.”
“I didn’t ask you to lie. I only asked you not to tell him anything. Big difference.” Reason sighs. “I’ll fix it, Dex. Just calm down. I know you did the best you could.”
Dex looks at him with sorrowful eyes. He raises a wrinkled hand and wipes his cheek. I realize he is crying.
“Boss, I know it’s not my place to say this to you, but I told you this was a bad idea.” Brice speaks to Reason’s back. “Women are always trouble.”
Reason turns on him. “I don’t want to hear those words from you again, Brice.”
My stomach sours. I need to get out if here; I need time to think. Something is going on that involves me. I don’t want him to think I came in here to snoop. I’ll have to figure out some way to bring up the subject later without it looking like I don’t trust him.
Dex’s head lolls back again, facing my direction. I’m not sure, but it almost seems like his eyes get a little bigger. I turn away and move quietly toward the door.
Dex says something indecipherable that ends with two very distinct words: “Boss, look.”
I freeze in the doorway, with my back facing the rail.
“Erin?” I hear Reason say. He sounds disappointed.
I continue through the door. I’ve got to get back to the truck where I can have some time to get myself together. Somehow, I’ve caused trouble for Reason. I don’t even know how, but it’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. And worse, he’s hiding things.
I slam the truck door and stare though the windshield. I need to get out of this dress and be Erin again. It’s time to quit pretending I’m some kind of princess. The real world isn’t that simple, and neither am I. I suddenly feel completely ridiculous. The queen of misery and gloom sitting here dressed like a candy cane. I’m thankful for the change of clothes I brought with me.
I hear Reason’s boots hitting the gravel as he runs toward my door. He’s already pulling my door open and soon he appears in my peripheral vision. We make a foolish pair, he and I.
“Erin, we need to talk.”
I nod.
“There are some things I haven’t told you. But whatever you heard in there, I can explain. Dex is just upset, and Brice—he’s too young to have his confidence under control.”
I lift my eyes to meet his. “Let’s change and then we can talk.”
“Okay.” He looks uncertain, but he agrees.
“I want to change at my house, though. I need to get home and check on Klaus.”
A shadow passes over his eyes like a cloud, but he nods and closes my door.
Chapter 17
A MAN SITS IN THE ROCKER near my front door. I don’t notice him until I reach the top of the concrete stairway.
“Who is he?” I ask Reason, automatically expecting him to know.
“Cassius Thomas, the oldest living Elder in the Society.”
“Why’s he in my mother’s rocking chair?”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not allowed to date you.” Reason shoves his hands deeper in the pockets of his Santa coat as we draw closer.
“Really?” I give him a sideways glance, assuming he’s joking, but I see his face and realize he’s not. “You should've told me.” I watch the man stand and remove his black hat.
“I wanted to. But I didn’t expect he’d be waiting for us here.”
As we climb the stairs, I see his face more clearly. It looks like shriveled leather. He must be the oldest human being I’ve ever seen. His eyes have even sunken into his head. Wrinkles fold over his upper eyelids, and his bottom ones sag low, separate from his eyeballs. His long black overcoat comes down to his calves, and he’s fastened every single button all the way up to the neck where the collar of his shirt peeks out. It’s as black as his coat and his pants and his shoes—and even the cane he leans on, except for the carved cherry wood handle.
He reminds me of a p
riest, but he also looks like he could be the elder of the universe. Maybe the Society is a religious group of some kind. Maybe he’s God wearing an old man. Anything seems possible as I stare into his ancient face.
“Good afternoon, Mr. MacCloud—Ms. Sinclair. Please accept my apology for dropping by unannounced. As it turns out, my visit today is a matter of unexpected necessity.”
“Good afternoon, Brother Cassius.” Reason extends his hand.
Brother Cassius accepts it and gives it a formal shake. I offer him my hand too, but instead of a handshake he kisses the back with his dry lips.
Thankfully, Reason has my keys in his pocket, because I continue staring while he unlocks the door. Something about Cassius seems familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Erin, would it be all right if we talk inside?” Reason nudges my hand to get me to take the keys.
“Yes, come in.” I snap out of it.
“Thank you, Ms. Sinclair.” Brother Cassius’ smile reveals a remarkably good set of teeth.
I enter first, which turns out to be a good thing because Klaus nearly plows me over.
But when he sees Brother Cassius, he stops. He stands so close to me I can hardly move. Finally, I step around him and keep walking.
“Have a seat anywhere you like.” I head to the kitchen with Klaus following close behind me. “Would you like some tea or coffee?
“No, thank you. I’m quite all right,” Cassius answers.
Reason shakes his head. “No, thanks.”
I pour a glass of filtered water and drink half of it. Leaving the rest on the counter, I head back to the living room where I find them speaking in hushed voices. They fall silent as soon as I appear, but tension hangs around us thick as gauze.
Brother Cassius has taken my mother’s chair, so I sit next to Reason on the sofa. He glances at me only for a second before his gaze shifts back to my guest. He looks like he wants to toss Brother Cassius right out the door.
“Cassius, showing up at Erin’s home was uncalled for.”
“Father MacCloud, she was involved well before my arrival today.”
I look sharply at Reason. “Father?”
Reason grimaces, and a look of dread passes over his face.
Cassius gives him an elegant smirk. “Yes, Ms. Sinclair. You’ll be glad to know Father MacCloud holds the highest office within the Society—one not to be taken lightly. I, on the other hand, am an Elder. The Council of Elders has many duties. Chief among them is the protection of the Society as a whole. Think of it as a priesthood. The Society is a lifelong commitment. It is, in fact, an exclusive way of life. Now, Reason, would you like to continue this discussion elsewhere?”
“No. I’ll have it here.”
“Then I must conclude she already knows.”
Reason gives him a stony look. “No, but you have conveyed quite enough with your visit today. I won’t deny her an explanation, or cover it with deceit. Just say to me what you’ve come to say.”
“Very well then. What you are doing must stop at once. The Council has ruled to uphold and enforce Amendment 16 which states: ‘Anyone holding the Office, including regional subordinates, must not develop romantic involvements with any non-member who has not been approved or selected by the Society.”
“I know what it says.” Reason runs his palms over his forehead.
“Then please explain to me what exactly you are doing. You have become involved with Ms. Sinclair of your own volition without consulting the Society. Further, she has visited your residence and has been linked to you publicly as your spouse. How do you propose to rectify this situation?”
I gape at him. Reason wasn’t joking about not being allowed to date me. And what’s this spouse business? He acts as if Reason has fraternized with an impersonator or worse…a trollop. Heat floods my cheeks. “I played the part of Mrs. Claus, and he pretended to be Santa Claus. I’ve not pretended to be his wife. I seriously doubt anyone in their right mind would conclude we’re married in real life.”
Cassius ignores me. “This is precisely my point, Reason. This is why we do things the way we do. There is just too much at stake here. We have held anonymity for over a millennium, thanks to hard-fast rules.”
“No, Cassius, we’ve not. It’s an amendment, added in 1963.”
Cassius’ eyes narrow. “We had good cause. I submitted to it and so must you.”
Why would this “Society” not allow him to date whoever he wants? I turn to Reason. Will he choose me or his Christmas club? Then again, the way Cassius talks it’s much more than a club. What did he call it? An exclusive way of life? I rub my eyes. This must be a joke. Surely I’m being punked.
Reason leans forward. “Would you choose the same now, if you could?”
“That’s not the point at hand.”
“Yes, it is. You’re bitter.”
“My, you have lost your objectivity, haven’t you?” Cassius crosses his legs and places his hands over his knee.
“Maybe so, but I certainly didn’t set out to violate Society Law. There are just some things even the Society can’t control, a man’s heart is surely one such thing. I’ve never felt Amendment 16 is anything more than your misery loving its company. My father agreed.”
“Reason, if you dislike the Law, perhaps you should contest it in a more reasonable fashion. I do not ask of you anything greater than what I sacrificed when I held the Office.” A flicker of something appears in Cassius’s face. For a moment, he almost seems to soften. But then he recomposes himself.
“Cassius, I reject Amendment 16. It violates the Oath…and my heart.”
It dawns on me. Reason just chose me, I think. Take that Brother Cassius.
Cassius stares at him like a storm silently brooding. The many lines of his face seem almost to deepen. Finally, he turns to me and clears his throat. “Father MacCloud is making a grave mistake. Will you let him do such a thing for you? Think of your own mother, how precious the season of Christmas was to her—the celebration of the birth of Christ our Lord—would you position yourself to take priority over that?”
“My mother? What could you possibly know about my—”
Reason jumps to his feet, glaring at Cassius. He looks like a sledgehammer ready to crash down on the old man. “Have you completely lost the meaning of Christmas? You’ve perverted it—the very thing the Society exists to prevent. Quit manipulating her and tell the truth about yourself.”
“Sit down, Reason. Anger doesn’t become you.”
Reason’s hands clench and a vein pulses in his temple. A hot flush of blood reddens his face, but he obeys. He sits and holds his hands between his knees. He really takes this fraternity club seriously.
Cassius regards him quietly. When he speaks again, he turns to me. “Very well, you want truth,” he turns to me. “I’ll give you truth. Ms. Sinclair, as a young man, I fell in love with a woman and married. Society life became too much for her—the secrecy and isolation too lonely. It’s a delicate matter to be the spouse of a Society member. It requires two marriages, one to the man and one to the Society. She wanted a normal life for our little girl. She gave me an ultimatum, and I made what I still believe was the necessary choice. I kept my commitment to the Society.”
He rubs the joints in his hands, lost in thought. Finally, he looks from me to Reason and continues. “It necessitated the creation of Amendment 16, which is meant to preserve the secrecy of our work and prevent anything like it from happening again.”
Reason gapes at him. “That’s all you’re going to say about it? Have you no conscience?”
Cassius clears his throat and continues. “You, Ms. Sinclair, are my descendent—my granddaughter. Your mother, Adelaide, was my daughter. For the sake of my love for the Society, I paid a heavy price—my wife and my child.”
Distantly, I feel Reason squeeze my hand, a lifeline to the here and now. “For the love of God, man, I didn’t see that coming.” He speaks to me with soft, urgent words, but I don’t hear any of them.
This can’t be true. The floor has fallen away, and I’m tumbling into a dark chasm. I fumble through my family history—the little I know—comparing Cassius’ words with truth. My mother never spoke much about her real father. Where did he go? Who was he? Mom had a stepfather and later a half-sister—my Aunt Patty. And she loved Christmas. I never wondered why. I focus my eyes on Klaus who lies draped over my feet. His ears twitch as he watches Cassius.
My thoughts ripple outward until they slowly smooth out into placidness. A skill I’ve practiced a lot this past year. It doesn’t lessen the sickness in my stomach. Does he really think he made the right choice? Or does he just need to believe he did? My poor mother. Maybe she would’ve wanted a life filled with Christmas, rather than the one she lived holding on to every shred of it she had left. A spurt of adrenaline quickens my heart and makes it hard to listen to his reasoning.
“You’re lying. You don’t know my mother.”
“I’m certainly not lying, Ms. Sinclair.” He goes on. “And here we are, proof that security breaches are weeds with ongoing and far reaching roots. If this weren’t so, I would not be in your living room now.” He pauses and glances at Reason. “It’s clear Father MacCloud sees things differently. Perhaps, with some time to consider the consequences of his actions, he’ll realize what he must do.”
I jump to my feet and so does Klaus, leaning into me as I speak. “I’ve heard enough. You’re a bitter, selfish man. If what you say is true, my mother spent her life chasing the ghost of you in Christmas. And you were always out there somewhere. I felt guilty for leaving. But you, you were hiding.” My voice chokes as tears blur my eyes.
“I’ve come to believe my wife did something good for Adelaide—gave her freedom. Her life would have been quite limited otherwise,” Cassius insists and strikes the end of his cane on the floor like a gavel.
I’m shaking as I gawk at this man who deserves at least half of all this guilt I’ve carried alone. Full of white hot rage, I cover my face with my trembling hand. I can’t look at him.
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