Jack (Gilead #4)(80)

Ducking out was different from acknowledging the impossibility of going on together when the whole world has made and kept this infernal compact, making transgression and crime of something innocent, if anything could be called innocent, a marriage of true minds. Yes. Exacting from them a precious thing it had no right to and no use for. He could say this to Della, to be sure she would realize that he was saying goodbye because they were caught in a great web that made every choice impossible. He would be telling her something she knew much better than he did. There is always a risk in that. He must resist the temptation to lament to her as if the sorrow were his, when the whole brunt of trouble was already coming to bear on her. He had the distance between where he stood and where she might find him to decide if lamenting was a good idea, not simply an overwhelming impulse. Her composure was among the things that were beautiful about her. He might disrupt the courage and discipline and pride that sustained her. He could simply say, “I know you understand my decision. Of course you do. I thought this is what you might want to say to me. If you had, I’d have understood entirely.”

When he came within sight of Della’s house, he could see she was sitting there on the porch steps in the dark, bent over as if she were reading, though she could not be reading. There she was. It was because he had spent so long nerving himself for this conversation that he was a little bewildered when he saw that it would not unfold as he had imagined it would. He had not anticipated the privilege of this long moment when he had not yet said what he had come to say. He took off his hat.

When he saw that she had looked up at him, he said, “It’s Jack,” so she wouldn’t be alarmed. She laughed. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up, Jack Boughton.” She stood up and came to him and took his arm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was expected. It’s not the sort of thing I would forget—”

“I prayed you would come.”

“And here I am.”

“And here you are.”

“This is very interesting. I thought I was engaged in a grim struggle with a decision, whether to come here or not, when there was no decision to be made. I was cosmically ensnared.”

She nodded. “I plan to do this often. I get tired of sitting around waiting for the mail.” They were walking arm in arm away from her house, toward the darker streets. She was happy to be with him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She said, “I’m thinking how this could work. I could make you eat a few square meals. I could snuff out all your nightmares—”

“Thanks. You know, I might not be Jack without my nightmares. That’s all right with me. It’s just that I’ve never figured out the source of my appeal. So you might want to remember that random benevolence has risks. I do appreciate the thought.”

She nodded. “I was drunk with power. I was about to give you a raise.”

“Very kind.”

“I know you’d just spend it on neckties.”

He laughed, but he didn’t really feel like laughing. Dear Lord, he had never considered what he actually knew, which was that she considered this marriage real and thought of their dear friendship as ongoing, abiding, perpetual. These were not words he had ever found much use for. It was no doubt literally true that she had in fact prayed that he would come by her house, which struck him as extremely remarkable. There is a difference in kind between what you want or wish for and what you pray for. It would require some thought to figure out the ways in which this is true, but it is true. And into this moment he came with his goodbye, which he had told himself she would surely understand. What a stupid thing that would have been to say to her. He felt himself blush.

She said, “You’re quiet.”

“Della,” he said, “I’ve had a strange night. My boss gave me keys to the studio, the place where I work. So I can come early and open it up. That plan I mentioned—I thought if you met me there we could have a couple hours away from the world. I decided I’d try it out before I wrote to you about it. It was actually a very bad experience. Not that anything happened. I was just there by myself. An hour alone with my own worst enemy. I really roughed me up. You probably think I should be used to that. I thought I was.”

“So you came to me! And I was waiting for you.” She said, “I was really hoping you’d come because I’ve been having some troubles myself. Trouble sleeping, for one thing.”

“Is your sister still here?”

“Yes, she is. She’s been almost living in that phone booth by the corner. Now she’s saying my brothers might come to St. Louis, at least two of them. Apparently they’ve persuaded my father to talk with me one more time. I’ll go home for a few days. I’ll have to do that. I love my father.”

“Of course.”

“All this scheming going on, all about me, and I’m just watching it happen. Every now and then Julia remembers to give me a little information. My mother is in on it, too, of course, planning everybody’s favorite dinners so we’ll all be in a good state of mind.”

“Sounds painful.”

“I’ll just have to live through it. The hard part is that there’s no use in it. I’m going to disappoint them.” She said, “You’ll be praying for me this time. That they’ll let me come back here, first of all. I know this is not some kind of abduction, but—keep me in your prayers.”