Nelson DeMille - The Gate House

Susan said to me, “He looked… pale. Shaken.”

“Did he? I didn’t notice.”

“And my mother seemed confused that he’d had this sudden and complete change of heart.”

“Well, she hadn’t shared his divine revelation.”

“John…?”

“Yes?”

“Did you… threaten him with something?”

“What could I threaten him with?”

“I don’t know… but-”

“Can we change the subject?” I asked, “Whose turn is it to get beer?”

She stood and went into the kitchen.

I finished my beer and thought about Ethel’s letter. She’d made her deathbed confession to me, but according to Father Hunnings, Ethel had also spoken to him about the contents of this letter – and Hunnings had advised Ethel not to give it to me, and he’d also put some pressure on Elizabeth to withhold the letter. Why? To protect Ethel’s memory, as he said? Or did he want to get ahold of the letter himself, then give it to William in exchange for… what? A comfortable retirement?

Susan returned with the beers and said, “John, I think you’re too modest. I think that my father’s change of heart was because of something you said, not because of some… divine message.”

I replied, modestly, “Well… I did my best, and I was persuasive, but I really think I had help from a higher source.”

She reminded me, “I told you I believe that this was our Fate, and that we have a guardian angel watching over us.”

“It seems that way.” I took a slug of beer.

She moved on to another subject and asked me, “Do you think we should get married at Saint Mark’s?”

“Why not? Father Hunnings gives a discount for the second time.”

She laughed, then reminded me, “You don’t like him, and I don’t think he is particularly fond of you.”

“Really? Well, then I’ll speak to him and smooth things over.” And mention that I read Ethel’s letter, and maybe I would ask him if he had any knowledge – other than in a general sense – of the contents.

Susan said, “I’d like it if you would do that.” She added, “I’d like to get married there again.”

“No problem. And I’ll even get Father Hunnings to waive the prenuptial counseling.”

She smiled and said, “I think you’re getting all full of yourself after your success with my father.”

“I’m on a roll,” I agreed. And while I was remaking my world to suit myself, I assured her, “Not only will your parents bless our marriage, they will also pay for it.”

“All I want is their blessing.”

“ I want to give them the bill. And don’t forget to e-mail them with a Save-the-Date. They’ll want to come in early to help out with the arrangements – and discuss your dowry.”

She ignored my suggestions and asked me, “John, are you willing to forgive and forget? I mean, about my parents?”

I thought about that and replied, “It’s not my nature to hold a grudge.”

Susan thought that was funny for some reason, and suggested, “No, it’s the central core of your being.”

“You know me too well.” I replied, seriously, “I can’t ever forgive or forget what they’ve put us through during our marriage, and just recently, but…” I can be magnanimous in victory, so I continued, “I will say this: If your father – and your mother, as well – is looking for forgiveness and trying to make amends, then I’m open to that, and I’m certain that your father is going to forgive me for calling him an unprincipled asshole, and so forth. But my question to you is: How do you feel about them?”

She took a deep breath, then replied, “I’m angry. And I’ve seen this very unpleasant side of them. But they are my parents, and I love them, and I will forgive them.” She added, “We would want that from our children.”

“Well, we would, but we don’t need their forgiveness for anything.”

She stayed silent a few moments, then confessed, “I did. For what I did. And they forgave me, unconditionally. Just as you have.”

I nodded and said, “Life is short.”

Maybe I could eventually forgive Charlotte and William for what they did to the Sutter family – the best revenge is living well. But I could never forgive William for what he did to those young girls, and that would stay with me, and with him, until the day we both died.

So we sat in the shade of the patio and looked out into the sunny rose garden as we sipped our cold beers. It really was an exquisite day, and nature was in full bloom, and the air was scented with roses and honeysuckle. I watched a big monarch butterfly trying to decide where to land.

Susan broke into my quiet moment and said, “We need to e-mail the children with this good news, and give them some calendar updates, and… well, maybe mention that they might see something in the newspapers about… us.”

“You should e-mail Carolyn about this good news. I’ve already e-mailed her about our possible mention in the bad news.”

Susan nodded, then said, “I’m sorry.”

“Subject closed.”

“All right. Then I’ll e-mail Edward…”

“And definitely tell him that Grandpa has blessed our marriage by handing over his trust fund to him. But don’t say too much about our possible appearance in the news.”

“All right. But you know that he and Carolyn will discuss this.”

“Fine. And we’ll answer their questions truthfully, but with a little spin.” I further suggested, “Call your parents and set up a date when they can visit Edward in L.A. They need to get to know their heirs better.”

She smiled, then said, “That’s not a bad idea.”

Again we sat in silence, enjoying and savoring the moment together. There are not many perfect hours such as this, especially on a day that had begun so badly, which made this moment all the more extraordinary.

Of course, in every Garden of Eden, there is at least one serpent lurking in the flowers, and we actually had two. The first had a name, and it was Anthony Bellarosa. We knew he was here, and we were avoiding him, and we even avoided speaking of him – at least for now.

The second serpent had no name, and it had recently slithered into the garden. But if I had to give it a name, I’d call it Doubt.

So, to kill this, before it killed us, I said to Susan, “What we did was an act of love.”

She didn’t reply, so I continued, “I never doubted your love, and I know that your heart was breaking.”

Again no reply, so I concluded, “And if we had to do it over again, we would do the same thing.”

She sat there for a long time, then said, “You didn’t even want to take his money. And I… I feel so venal, so compromised-”

“No. Remember why we did what we did. It wasn’t for us.” It was to screw William and Peter. And, of course, to see that Edward and Carolyn got their fair share of the family fortune.

“John, that might be true for you, but I’m not sure about me.”

“Don’t doubt your motives. Your father created an impossible dilemma.”

“I know… but, God, I felt that I was selling myself and betraying you, and giving up our love for-”

“Susan, I don’t feel that way, so neither should you.”

“All right… you’re a very loving and wise man.”

“I am. Have another beer.”

She forced a smile, then said, “I hope this never comes back to haunt us.”

I pointed out, “If we could work through what happened ten years ago, then this is nothing.”

“I love you.”

“That’s why we’re here.” I asked, “Where is the pizza guy?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never ordered a pizza in my life.”

“Well, we’ll fix that in the next twenty years.”