going to sleep. All he cared about was that land, that house, and what was in that house.
"All of it,s yours," Simon said.
Before noon, Reuben decided to cook lunch like in the old days just so everybody would think he was all right. He and Jim had grown up preparing meals with Phil, and he found it soothing, the rinsing, chopping, frying. Grace joined in whenever she had the time.
They sat down to lamb chops and salad as soon as Grace got in.
"Listen, Baby Boy," she said. "I think you should put the house up there on the market as soon as you can."
Reuben burst out laughing. "Sell the place! Mom, that,s insane. This woman left it to me because I loved it. I loved it at first sight. I,m ready to move up there."
She was horrified. "Well, that,s a bit premature," she said. She glared at Celeste.
Celeste put down her fork. "You,re seriously thinking of living up there? I mean, like, how can you even think of going into that house after what happened? I never thought - ."
There was something so sad and vulnerable in her expression that it cut Reuben to the quick. But what was the use of saying anything?
Phil was staring at Reuben.
"What on earth is the matter with you, Phil?" Grace asked.
"Well, I don,t know, really," said Phil. "But look at our boy. He,s gained weight, hasn,t he? And you,re right about his skin."
"What about my skin?" Reuben asked.
"Don,t tell him all that," said Grace.
"Well, your mother said there was a bloom to it, you know, almost like a woman gets when she,s pregnant. Now I know you,re not a woman and you,re not pregnant, but she,s right. There,s a bloom to your skin."
Reuben started laughing again.
They were all looking at him.
"Dad, I want to ask you something," said Reuben. "About evil. Do you believe evil is a palpable force? I mean do you think there is such a thing as evil apart from what men do, a force maybe that can get into you and turn you to evil?"
Phil answered without missing a beat. "No, no, no, son," he said, scooping a forkful of salad into his mouth, "the explanation of evil is a hell of a lot more disappointing than that. It,s blunders, people making blunders, whether it,s raiding a village and killing all the inhabitants, or killing a child in a fit of rage. Mistakes. Everything is simply a matter of mistakes."
No one else said a word.
"I mean look at Genesis, son," said Phil. "The story of Adam and Eve, it,s a mistake. They make a mistake."
Reuben was pondering. He didn,t want to answer, but he thought he should.
"That,s what I,m afraid of," he said. "Dad, do you have a pair of shoes I can borrow? You,re a size twelve, right?"
"Oh, sure, son. I,ve got a closetful of shoes I never wear."
Reuben drifted off into his thoughts.
He was thankful for the silence.
He was thinking about the house, thinking about all those little clay tablets covered with cuneiform, and about that room where he,d slept with Marchent. Six weeks. It seemed like forever.
He got up and walked slowly out of the dining room and up the steps.
A little later he was sitting by his window looking out at the distant towers of the Golden Gate, when Celeste came in to say she was headed back to the office.
He nodded.
She put her arm around his shoulders. Slowly he turned and looked up at her. How very pretty she was, he thought. Not regal or elegant like Marchent, no. But so fresh and pretty. Her hair was such a very glossy brown and her eyes were so deeply brown, and she had such an intense expression. He,d never thought of her as fragile before, but she seemed fragile now - fresh, innocent, and definitely fragile.
Why had he ever been so afraid of her, afraid of pleasing her, afraid of measuring up to what she expected, afraid of her energy and her smarts?
Suddenly she drew back. It was as if she,d been startled. She moved several steps away. She stared at him.
"What on earth is the matter?" he asked. He actually didn,t want to say much of anything, but it was clear something had made her very uncomfortable and it seemed the decent thing to ask.
"I don,t know," she said. She forced a smile. Then gave up on it. "I could have sworn, it was like, well, you seemed like a different person - a