She was touched, too, and could not help being flattered by the way he had bared himself to her in print. For the letter, as she reconsidered it, was a confession as much as a self-justification. He had to trust her judgment, and her discernment, not to mention her powers of sympathy. It occurred to her, as she read the e-mail through for the third time, that she had very little experience with men who were willing to open themselves up the way Simon had. Theo had never done anything like it. He had smiled and swathed himself in layers of impenetrable charm.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The next day was Sunday, and the family was due in Devon. It had been only two months since they had last had brunch together, but the Rubin constellation had altered dramatically. Theo and Anthony were gone. Only Soren represented the males of any generation younger than Judge Rubin—unless, of course, the fetus swimming in Tina’s belly turned out to be a boy.
A grandchild on its way at last! Dr. Rubin could not contain herself. She fussed over Tina, who slumped on the couch, her face pale and faintly green even under her heavy makeup. “Not eating is worse than eating,” Dr. Rubin said. “I know you don’t want to, but just nibble on a cracker, sweetie. Have you tried those acupressure bands? Some of my patients swear by them.”
“I’m all right,” Tina said irritably.
“I didn’t suffer from morning sickness myself, thank God,” Dr. Rubin said.
“That was with the second two,” Judge Rubin said. “With Alice you lay in bed for weeks with an enamel pot on the floor.”
“I did not,” Dr. Rubin said. “I loved every minute of being pregnant! I had that wonderful OB with Alice—Dr. Vernon.”
“He was sued for malpractice a year or two later,” Judge Rubin said.
“Doctors get sued all the time, William, as you well know! I never believed a word of it. His patients were devoted to him. He told me he would take Alice back within thirty days if I wasn’t completely satisfied.”
Soren laughed. He poked Tina and said to her mother, “You must have had a close call with this one. Lucky for me you decided to keep her.”
“Lucky for you they didn’t ask me or Alice our opinion,” Isabel said brightly. She was getting through the morning better than she had expected, not possessed by her rage, but more or less in control of it, as though anger were a powerful horse she had saddled.
“Is anybody hungry?” Dr. Rubin said, and they moved into the dining room.
It was an awkward brunch, there were so many subjects to be avoided. Isabel could feel the care Dr. Rubin was taking as she dragged the conversation from topic to topic like a child trying to step only on the white squares of a checkerboard tile floor. Isabel herself didn’t feel much like talking. Alice was quiet and seemed distracted, and Tina was too nauseated to participate. She put a bagel on her plate and then did her best not to look at it. Judge Rubin read the newspaper. Soren and Dr. Rubin discussed wedding plans, house hunting, possible names for the baby.
“For a boy we can’t decide,” Soren said. He had loaded his plate with bagels, cream cheese, deviled eggs, and fruit salad. “I like Olaf, but Tina likes Sebastian. For a girl, though, we’ve agreed on Tyne.”
“Tyne?” Dr. Rubin said. “Olaf?” She looked at Tina. “The old-fashioned names have come back into style, you know, honey. Sam and Max. Sophie.”
“Doc,” Tina said warningly, rotating her plate with the tips of her fingers so that the bagel was as far away from her as possible.
“We hope everyone will like the name,” Soren said. “I have an idea! Tina and I will generate a list, and everyone can vote.”
“Soren,” Tina said sharply, pushing the plate away.
“I guess after you’ve named half a dozen children, the novelty wears off,” Isabel said. Her mother shot her a look.
Alice, who was sitting by the window, suddenly said, “Isn’t that Marco? What’s he doing here on a Sunday?”
“It was the only day he could come,” Dr. Rubin explained. “He’s gotten very busy.”
Isabel turned and saw Marco out in the yard staking the foxgloves. “Oh—look at that pale orange!” she said. “It’s exactly the color of Alice’s hair!”
“Excuse me,” Alice said, and got up from the table.
“Alice,” Dr. Rubin said, “we’re in the middle of a meal.”
“I’m finished.” Alice left the room. They could hear her going out the front door.
“She hardly ate anything,” Dr. Rubin said. “I think Soren is the only one who’s appreciating the food! I don’t know why you won’t try the salmon, Soren. I always think of fish as a kind of vegetable that you pull up out of the sea.”
Soren eyed the thin, translucent slices. “I’ve been doing some reading about physiological responses of wild animals to pain. Animals, you know, don’t have the luxury of dying in their sleep or of a heart attack, but instead they often get torn limb from limb. Apparently they’re able to put themselves into shock—like self-administering an anesthetic—so they don’t feel it so much at the end.” He picked up his fork and lifted a slice of smoked salmon onto a bagel. “I don’t know if they’ve done those studies on fish. When you see them flapping around in the net, they don’t look anesthetized.”
“Maybe,” Isabel said, “you don’t get the same response with suffocation as you do with dismemberment.”
“Yes,” Soren said. “Maybe that’s it.” He took a bite and chewed.
Out the window, Alice stood among the foxgloves, deep in conversation with Marco. “What is she talking to him about?” Dr. Rubin said. “Do you think she’s all right, Isabel? She’s very quiet lately. I don’t want to ask her about—you know. I don’t want to pour salt in the wound.”
Tina pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m done, too,” she announced. “Come on, Soren. I could use some fresh air.”
“I’m eating,” he said. “The salmon is wonderful, actually.”
Isabel folded her napkin. “I’ll go with you,” she said.
Caught by surprise, Tina said nothing. Isabel pushed back her chair and led the way out of the room.
As they walked through the hall and out the front door, Tina glanced sideways at her sister, who was wearing a blue skirt and white blouse Tina recognized as belonging to Alice. Alice was thinner than Isabel, and the clothes fit more snugly than what Isabel usually wore. She looked good, Tina had to admit. Even her face, bare of makeup as always, seemed to glow with a stern animation that surprised Tina and made her uneasy.
All during brunch she had been uneasy, in fact. Whom had Isabel told what Tina had done? Whom would she tell? She could pick any moment for her revelation. All through the meal Tina had found herself wondering, Now? Now? If she hadn’t already felt sick, the tension would have made her so. Amazed and frightened by Isabel’s self-restraint, she had wondered at first if Isabel knew how much power she had. Now, looking up into her sister’s blazing eyes and seeing the way her skin shone with contained rage, Tina saw that she did know.
On the front steps, with the door shut behind them and Alice and Marco out of sight around the side of the house, Isabel turned to her. “How could you do it?” she hissed. “Tell me how!”
Tina felt exhausted. Nothing had prepared her for pregnancy being like this—like an illness that went on and on—tiredness like a hammer on your head. She knew it had been wrong to sleep with Theo. She had known it was wrong from the beginning, but she had been willing to live with that. With her own disapproval. When she had felt Theo’s eyes on her—the same eyes that had dismissed her for so many years, had seen her only as the kid sister, not smart or successful enough to be interesting—she had felt not merely aglow but alive. Theo was different from the men she dated. It wasn’t that he was better-looking or more sure of himself or even smarter, but he was someone who had always been in a category that excluded her, and one day, quite suddenly, he had welcomed her in. He had had Isabel—the creative, critical sister, the one who did things her own way and didn’t care wha
t people thought—and then, instead, he wanted her. “You didn’t love him,” Tina said.
“You don’t know that!” Isabel cried.
Tina made an effort. She had to speak carefully—to find the words, not to make her sister understand, which was of course impossible, but to maintain the status quo. She had to keep herself from making things worse. If things got worse, Isabel might tell.
Of course, she might tell anyway. Tina found herself thinking that what was done was done. She wanted Isabel to see how things were. Whatever else happened—whatever else was or wasn’t true—Theo had wanted her. “You never appreciated Theo,” Tina said. “He’s a great guy! And you were always putting him down.”
“Oh,” Isabel said. “A great guy! A great guy who would sleep with his wife’s sister!”
“You were always snide about everything he did,” Tina said. “You thought he sold out!”
“He did sell out.”
“You never supported him! You never made him feel really good about himself!”
“You always wanted everything Alice and I had!” Isabel cried. “Even if it was junk, you wanted it!”
“And you, you always shut me out!”
So this was what it came down to, Isabel thought. You put him down. You never appreciated what you had. You shut me out, so I found a way to get in. It was almost funny. Surely other grown-up siblings felt these things, but they didn’t actually destroy one another’s lives. “You’re my sister,” she said.
For a moment, Tina seemed to sag. Her flesh looked heavy on her bones. Already her face was thicker than it had ever been, and Isabel could see what she would look like when she was old. Like Doc, but without Doc’s energy or drive. Or her kindness, either.
“Oh, Isabel,” Tina said irritably. “It really didn’t have anything to do with you.”
Isabel shut her eyes. It couldn’t be resolved, she thought. It couldn’t ever be resolved. One day the wound would scar over, the hole covered with thick, hard, white, ugly flesh. That was the best that could be hoped for, under the circumstances.
“You won’t tell Doc. Will you?” Tina said.
Isabel opened her eyes. “Do you think I would?” she said.
Tina shrugged uneasily.
“You should have thought of that before,” Isabel said. They looked at each other, each sizing up the situation.
The door opened and Soren came out, spreading his arms expansively. “Two beautiful women,” he said. “What a happy sight!”
“You certainly got the prize, though,” Isabel said to Tina, and she slipped past Soren into the house.
Her parents had left the dining table and were sitting in the living room on opposite couches. “You’re handling Tina’s pregnancy very well, I must say,” Dr. Rubin said to Isabel as she came in. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Well, people are having children so much later in life these days. There’s still lots of time.”
“What a relief,” Isabel said.
Her mother looked hurt. “You’ve been using that tone of voice all morning,” she said. “I know it’s a hard time for you, Isabel. But I don’t know why you should be angry with us.”
“It just seems ridiculous even to talk about me and babies!” Isabel said, despite her determination to control herself. “Not right now. My life is like something after an earthquake.”
“And what are you doing to rebuild it?” her father said. He sounded as though he’d been waiting to ask for some time.
Isabel flushed. “Thinking,” she said. “Sorting through the rubble.”
The telephone rang and Dr. Rubin got up to answer it.
“If you ask me,” Judge Rubin said, “you should make a decision and stand by it. All this reconsideration isn’t getting you anywhere. Your life was nicely on track when you were twenty-five, and what happened? You reconsidered.” He didn’t have to say, And look at you now. They were both looking.
At first Isabel couldn’t speak, but after a minute she said, “I know you’re concerned for me. I know my life is a mess right now, but the problem isn’t that I changed my mind about graduate school when I was twenty-five. Or that I’ve changed my mind about Theo. I met Theo when I was just out of college. We got married barely a year later. I didn’t know anything about anything.”
“Your mother and I got married when we were even younger than that, Isabel. We had known each other an even shorter period of time.”
Isabel laughed. “As if anyone in this family could forget that!”
Dr. Rubin appeared in the doorway, blinking back tears of utter consternation. “That was a woman on the phone,” she said. “She says she’s Soren’s wife.”
“Ex-wife, you mean,” Judge Rubin said impatiently. “Oh, what now!”
“No,” Dr. Rubin said. “You don’t understand! She says she’s still his wife!”
The room went very quiet. Isabel looked out the window. At the bottom of the garden, Alice was laughing, her hair sparkling in the sunlight, and Marco was smiling, his hand almost touching hers on the split-rail fence where Isabel used to sit while Cicily pointed out where the cardinals were nesting. Closer to the house, Soren and Tina sat on a bench in the shade of a crab-apple tree. Soren slid his arm around Tina’s waist. She leaned away.
“What are we going to do, William!” Dr. Rubin cried. “It’s too much to bear! Oh, poor Tina. And the invitations have gone out! Oh—what have we done to deserve this?” She was gasping now, barely able to catch her breath.
Judge Rubin got up and stood over his wife. “Evelyn,” he said, “stop it!”
She grabbed on to his shirt and swayed from side to side. “We did our best for them! Why are their lives all in pieces? Why can’t any of the three of them find any happiness?”
“Pull yourself together!” Judge Rubin said.
“I can’t bear it, William! I’d do anything for them—you would, too—but there’s nothing—nothing that can help—nothing we can do!” She began to moan. Her face grew blotchy and she gasped for breath.
He raised his hand and slapped her. A red shadow rose in her cheek, and she fell silent.
“Dad!” Isabel cried.
Dr. Rubin gaped at him.
Judge Rubin straightened his shirt and stepped away from his wife. “You were hysterical,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The next day, Dr. Rubin stayed in bed. Isabel and Alice had spent the night, and in the morning Alice went to work. Isabel tried to tempt Dr. Rubin with her mother’s favorite foods, prepared in the kitchen where Cicily had once clattered pots and pans. But Dr. Rubin wouldn’t eat.
“I can’t,” she said when Isabel brought up a tray. Her hair lay disheveled on the pillow. “You’re so good to me, fussing like this, as though things weren’t hard enough for you already. Oh—you were such happy little girls!”
“Doc,” Isabel said, “we’re doing fine.”
It was true. They were doing fine—even Tina, who had frowned when she heard about Soren’s situation and then said, “Nothing is going to interfere with this wedding!” It was Doc who was suffering.
Alice came back to Devon for dinner. Isabel made their favorite childhood meal: fried chicken and whipped potatoes and green beans with almonds. Judge Rubin blinked at the food through his glasses and pushed it around on his plate.
Alice asked him, “Did you find anything out?”
He raised his eyes to her and sighed. “I confirmed the facts,” he said.
“Which are?”
“That Soren initiated divorce proceedings against this woman, Frieda Somers Zank, with whom he has two children, eighteen months ago. That they hit a roadblock when it came to the financial settlement. That the division of property was apparently insurmountable. There’s a house in Palo Alto and a cottage in Napa, as well as millions in stock options. The divorce was never finalized. Nevertheless, Soren applied for a marriage license in the city of Philadelphia, describing himself as divorced.”
“How could he do that?” Isabe
l said. “It’s beyond comprehension!”
“In the course of my life,” her father said, “I have seen people attempt all sorts of things that defied what I would have called ordinary comprehension. This has led me to the conclusion that the way you and I see the world is not at all as ordinary as we might have thought. Look at all the people who believe they have been abducted by aliens. Look at the check forgers, tax cheaters, wife beaters, retirement fund embezzlers! Do they think of themselves as deviant? Not at all. They have their way of looking at the world that enables them to consider themselves to be reasonable human beings.”
“I hope you don’t put Soren in the same category with the embezzlers and UFO abductees,” Alice said.
“Where else to put him?” their father said sharply. “When I spoke to him today, he kept saying, ‘It’s just a matter of technicalities’! Those were his words! He’s adamant that he won’t give in to what he calls ‘that woman’s extortion.’”
Alice sighed. “He’s a good-hearted man. If the circumstances had been different, he might have made her happy.”
“If a man like that could make her happy under any circumstances,” Judge Rubin said, “she must have a greater natural capacity for happiness than we have so far seen evidence of. Thank you for dinner, Isabel. It was good of you girls to come out here and take care of your mother and me. Don’t think we don’t appreciate it.” He got up from the table and left the room.
“I went to see Tina today,” Alice said, watching Isabel to see how much of a discussion of their sister she could tolerate.
Isabel put down her fork. “And?”
“She and Soren have checked into the Four Seasons. They’re sitting up there with the curtains closed ordering room service, and Tina keeps saying how they’re going to go ahead with the wedding. She told me she’s been waiting all her life to wear a dress like that, and nobody is going to tell her she can’t do it now.”
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