Days of Winter (8 page)

But as the weeks passed, Rubin still did not confide in his family. An enormous change had taken place in him. The whole family feared he was ill. Withdrawn into a shell, he couldn’t eat. And his attitude toward Jocelyn was noticeably altered. At first the family rationalized; perhaps he was undergoing prenuptial jitters. Still, few men were
this
reluctant to relinquish their freedom. And though Jocelyn tried desperately to ignore his lack of interest, she was thoroughly miserable during what should have been the happiest time of her life.

Rubin’s depression was almost unbearable. He had received no letter from Magda. Going each day to the post office box, where all her letters were supposed to be sent, he would take out the tiny key, open the metal door, and look inside in vain. Why hadn’t she written? Was she ill? Surely Solange would have written if she was? Rubin became obsessed that she had found someone else. …

Finally, he went to the nearest phone and placed a call to Emile’s apartment. When he reached it, the connection was bad, filled with static. “Where is she?” he shouted into the instrument, trying to be understood above the maddening noise. All he could hear were muffled sounds of a voice he believed was Mignon’s. “In Cannes …” Those two words were the only ones which sounded distinct. Then the line went dead. Rubin held the receiver in his clenched hand for a long, very long time, then placed it carefully on the hook.

It was five when he returned home, after wandering around aimlessly. As he climbed the stairs to his room, he heard the voice of Martin, the butler. “Sir?” he said.

Rubin turned his head.

“Sir, your father has asked to see you in his study.”

“Thank you, Martin.”

Nathan was seated in the big leather chair at one side of the Georgian fireplace, a chair he had occupied for many years. He was shocked to see Rubin looking so distraught and disheveled.

“Sit down, Rubin …”

Rubin seated himself across from his father, gazing into the fire. Nathan poured two brandies, handed one to Rubin and kept the other himself. He took a sip.

“Rubin, the time has come when you and I must talk. Obviously something disturbs you. Please tell me what it is. You can speak freely, there are only the two of us here.”

Rubin remained silent

Nathan continued, “Rest assured, I will understand.”

Rubin looked at his father as though he wanted to confide, then retreated into himself again.

“Since you returned from Paris, you’re a different man. We no longer recognize you. Your mother is especially perturbed and you’ve made Jocelyn desperately unhappy. You don’t have the right to hurt that dear loving child, who is, I remind you, soon to become your wife.”

Rubin winced, in spite of himself.

“Are you that frightened of marriage?”

Rubin answered so softly Nathan had to strain to hear. “No … not marriage, exactly.”

“Then it must be Jocelyn.”

“I’m afraid it is, sir. A man can’t love merely because it’s … expedient.”

Nathan got up and paced the floor, hands behind his back. “Expedient?” he said. “That’s a strange word, Rubin. Are you implying that this marriage is only a merger between the Sassoons and the Hacks?”

Well, isn’t it?
Rubin wanted to answer but he couldn’t, not when he saw the troubled look on his father’s face.

“Do you feel that we’ve forced you into an arrangement?”

“We were certainly thrown together a lot. And suddenly, somehow, marriage seemed to be the next logical step. At the time, it all did, I admit, seem so right …”

“But everyone assumed that your affection for Jocelyn was real … in fact, no one was aware that you were anything less than deeply in love. This is what I find hardest to comprehend.”

“My affection at the time was certainly genuine. Jocelyn is a lovely young woman—”

“But you’ve suddenly fallen out of love? How could that happen in so short a time?”

Rubin was silent

“Rubin? …why did you stay in Paris so long?”

Running his hands through this thick black hair, Rubin looked at the vaulted ceiling while Nathan waited for an answer. Finally, he spoke. “Because … well, it happens I’ve fallen completely in love with a woman in Paris. …”

Nathan sighed deeply. Replenishing the brandy glasses, he handed one to his son, then seated himself again. “Is she going to have your child? Is that the problem?”

“I wish she was, it might be simpler.”

“Is she in love with you?”

“Yes …”

“Still, you couldn’t have known her for long.”

“Is time the right barometer? I’ve known Jocelyn for a lifetime—”

“Forgive me, Rubin, but I always thought love was something that grew. Of course, I come from a different generation …”

“Forgive me, Father, but I suspect love hasn’t changed so much—”

“I suppose you’re right, Rubin. But the point is, what do you plan to do about this … woman?”

“Nothing.”

Nathan nodded, and smiled for the first time. “You are right, Rubin … love has not changed so much from my generation to yours. …” And then he astonished his son as he told him for the first time … as though suddenly they were old confidants … how “when I was about your age, perhaps a little younger, I, too, thought I was completely in love … with a lovely young ballerina. Ludicrous when I look back on it now, of course, but at the time, believe me, I was inconsolable. …Marriage was out of the question, unthinkable, she could
never
have been accepted. …We have so much, but we can’t always have what we want. When I think back … about how different my life would have been …”

And Rubin was hearing his father’s last words merge with what Solange had said …What would have become of my life if I’d had the courage to run away with …? Nathan’s words brought him back. “I have my father, God rest his soul, to thank for setting
me
straight. I met your mother shortly afterward. And by then, Rubin, would you believe it, I could scarcely remember the girl’s face. Loving your mother as I did, I understood the other was only a passing matter, a young man experiencing life, as they say, for the first time. Now, the most astonishing thing is … quite accidentally, I ran into this woman on the street a few years ago. I would have passed her by if she hadn’t called out my name. When we spoke, briefly, it was like talking to a stranger. She had become, I’m afraid, a rather vain, unattractive woman. I walked away thinking, And for that I almost gave up my heritage, my life. So I know what you are going through, Rubin. I also know it will pass. Jocelyn is
right
for you. Once you’re married, settled into your life, your affection for her will turn into the love and devotion I feel for your mother. There will be children … and before you know it, this woman in Paris will cease to exist. This, I promise …”

You’re wrong, Father, our stories are not parallel … I won’t forget Magda’s face … I won’t stop loving her … You can’t promise me anything, it isn’t yours to promise. …But I’ll be your loving, obedient son, the son you respect. …

At least he would try. One thing, he was relieved he no longer had to go on deceiving his father. And for a moment, he felt almost rewarded in his misery as Nathan stood up and put his arms around his son’s shoulders.

From that day, Rubin became a mechanical man, doing all the right things … saying what was expected. His conduct was exemplary. He was with Jocelyn constantly, working doggedly at the alchemy to change respect and affection into desire and love. He barely felt alive.

Two weeks before the wedding, Jocelyn showed Rubin through their new house, now completely furnished. Hand in hand she led him from room to room, in the fine mansion off Regents Park, the gift of her parents. Rubin found himself being led into the bedroom. He felt nothing as he looked at the large four-poster bed. He had to turn away and walk to the window. It was Magda he saw in that bed … Magda who—

“Are you pleased, darling?”

He looked at her. “Oh, yes, it’s very nice, very …”

Jocelyn put her head on his shoulder. “We’re going to be very happy here, Rubin …Darling, I do love you so.”

He stroked her hair, honestly wishing he could feel the same, hating himself because he couldn’t.

The days would not be held back. Nor the hours or minutes. It was his wedding day.

That morning he re-read his most recent letter from Magda—they’d finally begun to arrive after the wait he had thought meant she no longer cared. His eyes sped down to the very last sentence. …“And I can only wish you the greatest happiness with your Jocelyn …Love as always, Magda.”

Oh, Magda, I want you … I need you …

And as Rubin sat alone reading her letter, Magda lay crying on Emile’s bed in Paris. Solange tried to comfort her, but nothing could. “He doesn’t love me, Solange. I was so sure … so sure he’d never be able to live without me—”

“That was a mistake …Your strategy … those lapses between letters to draw him back to you …But there are ties that can go beyond love, Magda …
Rubin
is being sacrificed, not you.”

“But don’t I count for anything?”

“Stop being ungrateful Look at all Rubin
has
done for you—”

“But what have I
got
? Nothing but things …
things
…”

Solange shook her, then held her close, wiped away her tears. “Yes … things which make it possible for you to live like a princess. You should get down on your knees and pray that man finds some peace. He’s the one who’s going to have to spend the rest of his life in hell …Ask me. I know what it’s like living with someone you feel nothing for …”

Magda turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

Jocelyn and her entourage were sequestered in the bridal room. The temple was filled with flowers. As the organ played softly, the guests were ushered into pews. The bride’s mother was escorted down the aisle. The seat beside her was vacant, but soon it would be occupied by her husband, after he had led his daughter to the altar and relinquished her to Rubin Hack. Sara and Nathan Hack were next. What a handsome couple they made, Sara, so sedate, in a rose lace gown, and Nathan in his cutaway jacket and gray-striped trousers.

Sara glanced at the bride’s mother, Annette Sassoon, who smiled with perfect decorum. The altar was breathtaking—the white satin canopy festooned with white roses, lilies of the valley, satin streamers and green maidenhair fern. The glowing candles in the candelabra made the sanctuary look ethereal. This was one of the most important weddings of the year. The Sassoons had outdone themselves.

Sara reached for Nathan’s hand and held it tightly. The years had rushed by so rapidly …We never notice them slipping away. …Only yesterday Rubin was tugging at my skirts …And now he’s a man, ready to take his place as husband and father …She sighed and looked at Nathan. Life had been good to them. They had brought four sons into the world. Soon there would be four daughters-in-law … daughters, really … and six grandchildren so far. No one could wish for more. …

The bridesmaids walked down the aisle dressed in soft tea-rose-yellow chiffon, carrying matching bouquets of roses. The ushers took their places. Rubin and Leon entered from a side door to wait for the bride.

Rubin literally felt as though he wasn’t there. This was not happening to him … only to some stranger he didn’t know. Leon, apprehensive, watched his brother’s expression. He showed no signs of nervousness.

The temple became completely silent. Jocelyn, on the arm of her father, started slowly down the aisle. Yards and yards of tulle trimmed with heirloom lace trailed behind her, as she walked closer and closer to take her place next to Rubin.

The moment had closed in on him. Rubin felt like a spectator watching a young woman being kissed on the cheek by her father. Then the older man took his leave and seated himself beside his wife.

The play had begun, the actors were all onstage. The rabbi stood before them, preparing them for the solemn vows of union. Rubin scarcely heard. The words sounded like the echo of a distant chamber, “…Do you, Jocelyn, take Rubin to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, forsaking all others … to love and obey …?”

Jocelyn looked at Rubin through the gossamer veil covering her face, and answered, “I do.”

“…And do you, Rubin, take Jocelyn …”

Rubin’s mind refused the question. The rabbi waited for his reply, but Rubin looked blankly back at the rabbi as though he hadn’t heard. The rabbi repeated, “… ’til death do you part …?” The five-year-old ring-bearer handed the small white satin pillow to Leon, who held it out to Rubin. As he looked down at the two gold bands which would bind Jocelyn and himself forever, nausea came over him. He broke out in a cold sweat Perspiration rolled down his back. His hand began to tremble as he reached for Jocelyn’s ring … then the hand retreated. Something beyond his control had stopped him, as though he were no longer responsible for his actions. He looked at Jocelyn. Shaking his head, he said, “No …Forgive me, I can’t …”

He turned and walked away, through the side door from which he had entered and down the long passageway to the street.

It had all happened so quickly. The shock was so great that for a moment no one quite understood what had taken place. Then there were hushed gasps as Jocelyn collapsed against her father. Too stunned to cry, she shook her head in disbelief. She was quickly taken from the sanctuary to the waiting limousine. Her mother, dazed and near-incoherent, followed. Their car sped away.

The Hacks sat motionless, mute statues, as the guests quietly left them to their shame and embarrassment. What could anyone say?

Rubin had taken a taxi to the house. Outside, he got into his roadster, where his bags had been placed in the trunk for what should have been his honeymoon trip. He drove away, hoping to be gone before the family arrived. The consequences of what he had done would have to be dealt with later.

He went directly to Brown’s Hotel. It was small and quiet. He wasn’t likely to run into anyone he knew there.

In his bedroom, he immediately placed a call to Magda. The circuits were busy. He cursed. Impatiently he called room service and ordered a bottle of whiskey.