Sins of Omission (19 page)

It was a wonderful Christmas.

The first days of the new year kept the inhabitants of the château snowbound. The aftermath of the holidays was a quiet time, since the heavy snowfall insulated them from the outside world. There was no friction, only goodwill.

They were lazy days, yet fruitful as well. Reuben spent long hours with Mickey at his side in the wine cellars. Daniel studied industriously, taking breaks in the middle of the day with Bebe. Every afternoon they trudged through the heavy snow, Jake at their heels. If anything in the world could cement their friendship, it was Jake.

And it was a friendship that would last all their lives.

When Bebe wasn't studying or trekking through the snow with Daniel, she was reading her way through Mickey's library and cleaning up Jake's puddles and messes. She never complained, and it was hard to say whom the dog was more devoted to, Daniel or Bebe.

Jake was a curious pup, into everything, even the cold ashes in the grates. His paw prints were found everywhere. But everyone was indulgent, and if a mess needed to be cleaned and Bebe wasn't available, Mickey or Reuben bent to the task. If anything, the dog solidified the little family.

Bebe's supposed two-week stay had proved to be more fiction than fact. Her proposed visit to England did not carry her father's approval, so she was in France until her father decided it was time for her to come home. But the truth of the matter was she was more than content to stay; she was in love with Reuben. Just to be near him was almost enough for her. She ignored the intimate relationship he had with her aunt and concentrated on ways to get him to notice her.

It was the end of the month before weather conditions improved enough for Mickey to announce a trip to Paris the following week. It was decided that Bebe and Daniel would take the train and Reuben and Mickey would take Jake and the baggage in the car.

 

The first few days of their Paris visit were hectic as well as exhausting. Meetings with bankers, exporters, officials of the White Star Line concerning shipping, all left Reuben exhilarated and Mickey baffled at the way things were done. Reuben simply told her it was the American way of doing things. You promise me something and I promise you something. In the end she'd shrugged and left it up to Reuben to “wheel and deal,” as he called it.

Thanks to a glowing letter of introduction from Pierre Faroux, Daniel was enrolled at the Sorbonne, where he attended classes from early morning to late in the afternoon. He was unbelievably happy.

Mickey hired a middle-aged woman as a chaperone for Bebe. The girl protested loud and long, then capitulated when Reuben's face darkened at her protests. Whatever Reuben wanted she did.

When spring rose from its winter sleep to blanket Paris with intoxicating air and lovers walking hand in hand, the sidewalk cafés came to life and Mickey called a holiday. “Someday,” she told them, “someone is going to write a song about Paris in the springtime. It is my favorite place on earth.” She laughed and said she hoped she'd still be alive to hear it.

“My darlings, we are taking five whole days to see this beautiful city I love. Perhaps when our holiday is over you will love Paris as much as I do.”

They started out briskly enough, stopping twice at sidewalk cafés for café au lait before the noon hour.

“Ah, I believe I made a little mistake this morning,” Mickey said ruefully. “My feet are aching me. It has been years since I showed off Paris to my friends from other countries. Tomorrow we will ride bicycles.”

“That's the best idea I've heard all day,” Reuben muttered. His leg felt the pull and strain of all the walking they'd done. It was nice seeing Paris, but as far as he was concerned, they could go back to the town house now and he'd feel his education was complete. He didn't really care about the fierce-looking gargoyles on Notre Dame, and he wasn't impressed with the architecture, either. They'd viewed it in the early morning light with mist hanging over it, and it had looked like a dim prison. But there had been such a look of rapture on Mickey's face when she stood looking at the huge edifice; he hadn't wanted to spoil the moment, so he'd simply agreed that it was beautiful. All he really wanted was to get back to work.

They were sitting now in a café by the Closérie des Lilas. Monstrous horse chestnut trees were full of blossoms, and every time the branches dipped in the breeze the soft petals floated to their square-topped table. They were lovelier than anything Reuben had ever seen back in Brooklyn. But then, New York was not known for its beauty.

“I've never seen so many shops. And the stalls on the quays makes me want to buy one of everything. When can we shop?” Bebe demanded.

Mickey laughed. “We have plenty of time,
chérie.
On the way home we'll stop by the baker's cart for some fresh baguettes, but that is all the shopping we will do for today.”

“I should be French,” Daniel grumbled. “Monsieur Faroux told me Frenchmen are known for their sturdy legs. Walking is a way of life, he said.”

“He was teasing you, Daniel…pulling your leg. His own are weak and knobby.” Mickey shook her head in dismay to show what she thought of Pierre and his little story. “Come now, my little pigeons, it is time to explore some more and then we will lunch.”

They trotted off, refreshed with hot coffee, determined to walk as briskly and be as enthusiastic as Mickey.

This time their walk took them past a district filled with stalls and all manner of shops.

“Come, come, we must pass this area quickly,” Mickey said. “Do not look toward that café, for it is full of drunks and smells like the cesspool it is. It wasn't always like this.” Reuben looked up to see the name Café des Amateurs on the rue Mouffetard.

“How do you know so much about this…this wicked place?” Bebe queried.

Mickey hesitated, but only for a moment. “When I was young my friend Yvette and I used to sit here and watch all the young men go by and try to entice them into buying us a drink. We were so poor then, we had no money to buy our own. Is there anything else you want to know about this…wicked place, as you call it?” Mickey asked.

“No.” Bebe flushed at her aunt's expression.

Within moments Mickey relented, feeling her words might have been too harsh.
“Chérie,”
she said, drawing Bebe aside, “there is something I wish to say to you. When you asked me how I know so much about Café des Amateurs I explained to you. I did not apologize. In your life there will be many times when the choice is up to you whether to explain or apologize. Always choose to explain. Never apologize for what you were or what you did. There are certain times in our lives when we may have done things we wouldn't presently do. Will you remember what I've just told you?”

Bebe lowered her eyes. “Yes. I'm…I'm sorry if I offended you.

“No,
chérie,
you are not sorry. You put me—how do you say it?—on the spot, purposefully. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I responded to your question.”

“But you could have said something in front of the others instead of taking me aside like this. I'm glad you didn't….” Bebe looked over to Reuben and Daniel.

“One must never embarrass a friend or guest in front of others. I'm not interested in playing the game you wish to initiate.”

“Game? What game?” Bebe blurted out, her eyes widening in pretended wonder.

How innocent and green her eyes were, Mickey thought. Outwardly she was the picture of an angel. Mickey wouldn't have been surprised to see her sprout wings at that very moment. “If you don't know what I'm talking about, then, of course, I must be wrong. We will not speak of it again.”

Bebe's eyes grew even wider. “I can't believe you would think that way of me, Aunt Mickey.”

Mickey's voice dropped, and Bebe had to strain to hear her words. “Once I was young like yourself. There is nothing you can say or do that I myself did not say and do. I know all the tricks, all the games young women can play. With time I outgrew such childish behavior. When you are a woman, you will, too. Now come along, we've kept Daniel and Reuben waiting too long.”

Bebe fell into step with Mickey. When they joined the others Mickey announced that they should all wait one moment until she could find a driver for the rest of the afternoon. Thus Reuben found himself standing alone with Bebe as Daniel wandered off to the side of the street.

It was as though he were seeing her for the first time. She wore a picture-pretty hat of yellow straw with a cluster of pastel-colored silk flowers draped daintily from the brim. Dipping low over her forehead, the hat shaded her brilliant green eyes. Her dress was of watered silk, the same colors as the flowers. She looked as bright and fresh as the spring day. Reuben was also aware of the admiring glances she was receiving from passersby. His neck grew warm when he realized he was staring. Bebe smiled, a winsome little pout of obvious pleasure. Daniel, coming back to them, scuffed his feet on the cobblestones, trying to make his presence felt. When Reuben continued to stare, he cleared his throat loudly. Bebe giggled and slapped him on the back, but she didn't take her eyes from Reuben's unwavering gaze.

Disconcerted, Reuben averted his eyes, spotting a fat robin digging ferociously in the ground for his lunch. It had been a long time since he'd seen a robin. There was something about seeing the first robin of spring and making a wish…What did he have to wish for? That time would stop, and hold him here, and things would never change?

“Oh, look, there's a robin. Let's all make a wish!” Bebe laughed.

“Let's not and say we did,” Reuben replied. Why did she always seem to know what he was thinking—and why was she always one step ahead of him? She belonged behind, far behind.

Bebe ignored him. “My father always says you should be careful of what you wish for because you might get it! I hope I do!” She squeezed her eyes shut to make her wish, and Daniel did the same. Reuben stared ahead at the robin, who was still digging industriously. Without stopping to think about it, he stretched out his leg and stomped it on the stones. Frightened, the robin took wing.

“Meanie!” Bebe exploded. “I wasn't finished making my wish.”

“Grow up!” Reuben mumbled harshly. “Wishes are for children.”

“You keep reminding me that I'm a child. So why don't you let me be one? Sometimes I hate you, Reuben Tarz. I never did a thing to you, and you treat me like dirt. I'm tired of it. Either you start treating me properly or I'll…I'll…”

“Yes?” Reuben drawled, his face expressionless. People were staring at them, but most didn't understand English. And he couldn't have cared less if they'd understood every word.

Daniel stayed as quiet as he could.

Suddenly the sunny day felt cool; the wind whipped around them, fussing with Bebe's skirt and blowing up Reuben's and Daniel's pant legs. Bebe burst into laughter at the sight of their trousers ballooning out from their ankles. Reuben thought she was laughing at him and reached for her, but she danced away, the wind driving her skirt high above her knees. Two boys on bicycles whistled approvingly, and she laughed louder, acknowledging the compliment.

“I'm waiting,” Reuben said.

Bebe screwed up her face in a spiteful grimace. “You're always waiting…like some gangly vulture.” She pursed her mouth. “I'll wish something bad for you. It always works. I practice it all the time back home. Sometimes I don't know my own powers. You wouldn't believe the things I've wished on people that actually happened. Do you want me to do it to you, Reuben? Do you want me to make you unhappy? To make Aunt Mickey take a second look at you? To wish your good life comes to an end because you don't deserve it?…Well, do you?” This time it was she who drawled the question.

Reuben reminded himself that Bebe was a sixteen-year-old spoiled brat, a snotty little girl who'd obviously never been disciplined. Where in hell was Mickey? Why had she saddled him with this detestable child? An uneasy feeling settled between his shoulder blades.

“Wish for whatever you want,” he said, making his voice sound disinterested.

At that moment Mickey appeared as if by magic. Her dark gaze took in the scene immediately, but she chose to ignore it. “The man I spoke of will meet us at two o'clock,” she said brightly. “We have time now to visit the Eiffel Tower, and then we will lunch. Briskly, my pets, so that we may enjoy our lunch all the more.”

Reuben's leg was beginning to ache unbearably. He tried to keep a pleasant look on his face, but it wasn't easy. Instead of going home, he found himself staring up at the Eiffel Tower. He knew he could have been just as happy if he never saw it.

Mickey pointed up at the structure towering above them. “One day this tower, just as your Statue of Liberty, will be world famous. You will remember this day.”

Lunch was a long, leisurely affair, and it was after two when they emerged to find Mickey's driver waiting. At the look of relief on Reuben's face, Mickey said quickly, “I think I shall take pity on all of us and have this kind man drive us home. We can sightsee again tomorrow.”

The town house looked so appealing to Reuben that he wanted to shout with relief. It sat way back from the road, at the end of a long circular driveway bordered by blooming chestnut trees. New spring shoots of green ivy, the color of brilliant emeralds, nested in between the old growth along the aged brick facade. The building's stained-glass arched windows radiated rainbows of deep-hued colors in the afternoon sun. He thought the town house beautiful and already felt it was home. Home was wherever Mickey was—here, in the country, or at the château.

Inside the house, Bebe scampered off to her room, Daniel headed for the library, and Mickey watched as Reuben plopped down on a love seat, his leg stretched out in front of him. It was becoming an effort to mask his pain. “It hurts like a son of a bitch!” he gasped. “If I ruined the day by—”