had never been a terribly expensive kid. He,d traveled on a shoestring, used to tiny hotel rooms and coach fares, and attended a state university and not an Ivy League college. The most extravagant thing he,d ever done was ask for a Porsche when he graduated and he was still driving the same car two years later. He,d never gone into the principal of any of his trusts until now, and had lived for years on half his income. Yes, the house was expensive, but they didn,t heat the whole thing every day, did they?
And how long was Reuben expected to live with his parents anyhow? Yes, the house cost. But what would it cost to buy a new condo or refurbished Victorian in San Francisco? And what would Grandfather Spangler have thought of all this, the gift of a property of this value? He would have approved the maintenance in the blink of an eye! He,d been a real estate developer, hadn,t he? Someday this whole place would sell for a fortune, so would everybody please leave Reuben alone!
Grace accepted all this with a casual nod. What Jim didn,t say was that he, Jim, had turned his trust funds back over to the family when he,d joined the priesthood, and so shouldn,t his opinion count for something?
Jim had dropped out of medical school to be a priest, and his education in Rome had cost little in comparison. The family had made a hefty donation to the Church when he was ordained, but the bulk of his inheritance was now at the disposal of Reuben.
Reuben didn,t care what the hell any of them said. He kept his counsel about Felix, and Felix,s possible moral claim to the house naturally. His heart broke when he thought of losing the house, but it was the least of his worries. What would Felix think when he found out about Stuart?
What would Stuart think when he found out about Stuart?
But maybe nothing would happen. Hadn,t Marrok indicated that sometimes nothing happened? Oh, faint hope.
What Reuben loved was that they were here, his family, that their voices were filling the big shadowy dining room, that his father was happy and not bored, and it felt good, oh, so good, to be near them.
The meal was a great success - roast filet, fresh vegetables, pasta, and one of Laura,s enormous simple and herb-laden salads.
Laura got into a discussion with Jim about Teilhard de Chardin, and Reuben understood less than half of what they were saying. What he saw however was how much they enjoyed the conversation. Phil was smiling at Laura in a particularly delighted way. When Phil talked about the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, Laura listened with rapt focus. Grace started another conversation, of course, but Reuben had long ago grown used to listening to their two separate conversations simultaneously. The fact was Laura liked his father. And his mother.
Grace asked what good theology ever did anybody, or poetry for that matter.
Laura remarked that science was dependent upon poetry, that all scientific description was metaphoric.
Only when the conversation turned to Dr. Akim Jaska did things turn unpleasant. Grace didn,t want to discuss the man, but Phil went into a fury.
"That doctor wanted to have you legally committed," he said to Reuben.
"Well, that was the end of the matter, wasn,t it?" said Grace. "Because nobody, I mean nobody, was going to even remotely consider such a thing."
"Legally committed?" Laura asked.
"Yes, to this phony-baloney rehab center of his in Sausalito," said Phil. "I knew the guy was a fraud from the moment I met him. I practically threw him down the front steps. Coming at us with those papers."
"Papers?" Reuben asked.
"He is most certainly not a fraud," said Grace, and it suddenly became a screaming match between Phil and Grace, until Jim intervened to declare that yes, the doctor was obviously brilliant and extremely knowledgeable in his field, but something wasn,t on the level there, not with this attempt at commitment.
"Well, you can forget him," said Grace. "That was the end of it, Reuben. We just weren,t on the same page, Dr. Jaska and I. Not at all unfortunately." But she insisted in a rolling murmur that he,d been one of the most brilliant doctors she,d ever met. Too bad he was a bit of a lunatic himself on the subject of werewolves.
Phil was snorting, throwing down his napkin, picking it up, and throwing it down again, and saying the guy was a Rasputin.