As he was reading, sitting across from her in his robe and slippers with his hair rumpled and his glasses unpolished and a silvery shadow on his jaw, he glanced up at her from time to time. He said, “It’s very rough. I had a thought in the middle of the night, and I had to get up and write it out. Half the time when I write something that way it turns out the next morning to be nonsense. The sobering effects of daylight. But this still makes sense to me. It seems obvious, if anything. I believe. Of course it’s early yet.”
“Well,” she said. “Near as I can tell, you were wanting to reconcile things by saying they can’t be reconciled. I guess I know what you mean by reconcile.”
He laughed. “Yes, clearly you do know. And I see your point. An excellent point.” He was pleased with her. He’d mention it to Boughton.
She said, “You been worrying about Mrs. Ames.” That poor girl.
“Yes. Yes, I have. I had an idea that I would be eternally loyal to her. I said as much to her. That was important to me for many years. The bride of my youth, and so on. After a while it may have been my loyalty I was loyal to. But I did the best I could.”
“Then I come along.”
“Yes, you came along. Thank the Lord.”
She said, “If you thought dead was just dead, then you wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.”
“I guess that’s true. It could be true. When I talk with people who aren’t religious, I’m often surprised by what they tell me, though. I’m not sure anyone has ever said that to me, dead is just dead. They’re loyal, too. Not like I was. But that was unusual. I believe I may have taken a certain pride in it.”
“You’re still loyal. You’re up all night writing to her.”
“Well, yes. In a way I suppose that’s true. And writing to you. You asked me that question.”
“It don’t matter. She must have been a sweet girl.”
He nodded. “She was. She was.” He said, “So you covered her grave with roses. That was a wonderful thing.”
She shrugged. “No folks of my own.”
“I can’t tell you what I felt when I saw that. I don’t think there’s a name for it.”
“You didn’t know it was just me doing it.”
“Just you,” he said. “If it had been a miracle, if an angel had done it, then there’d have been no one to walk with in the evening, no one to give that old locket to.”
“No one to come creeping into your bed.”
He laughed and colored. “True enough.”
“No baby.”
“Also true.”
They were quiet for a while. Then he said, “God is good.”
“Well,” she said, “some of the time.”
“All of the time.”
She said, “I’ve been tramping around with the heathens. They’re just as good as anybody, so far as I can see. They sure don’t deserve no hellfire.”
He laughed. “Well, that baby you talk about, cast out and weltering in her blood, the Lord takes her up. He looks after the strays. Especially the strays. That story is a parable, about how He bound himself to Jerusalem when He told her, ‘Live.’ It’s like a marriage. More than a marriage.”
“And then she takes to whoring.”
“That means she starts worshipping false gods. Idols. And He’s still faithful to her. To their marriage. That’s the important point. Because in the Bible, marriage—” He said, “I used to think it was supposed to be eternal. Like the faithfulness of God.”
“What do you think now?”
He was quiet for a minute. “I think I’m married to Lila now. Extremely married to her. And faithful as I know how to be. Not that that can mean much, I’m so old. And you’ll want to make another life for yourself when I’m gone. I’ll want you to do that. Especially if there’s a child.” He shook his head. “Since there will be a child.”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to have just the one husband.” One was more than she’d ever expected.
“Well, you know, that’s good of you to say, but it’s not always wise to make promises. There can be a lot more involved in keeping
