Энн Тайлер - Searching for Caleb

“I’m going to get married,” Duncan said.

“Married?”

The ghost of Glorietta flashed scarlet through their minds. All the grownups shifted uneasily.

“I’m marrying Justine.”

First they thought it was a joke. A tasteless one, but just like him. Then they saw how grave and still the two of them were. “My God,” said Justine’s mother. She clutched suddenly at a handful of ruffles on her chest. “My God, who would have thought of such a thing?”

Though it seemed to all of them, now, that they should have thought of it long ago. Those visits Justine had paid him! Those trips! Everyone knew she hated traveling as much as any other Peck. Yet day after day this winter she had packed a lunch in Sulie’s kitchen and said she wouldn’t be home till night. “I’m going on a trip with Duncan. Out to the country somewhere.” “Yes, yes, go,” they told her. “Keep an eye on him for us.” She had cut classes, missed important family gatherings, stopped seeing Neely, grown distant from her cousins—“But it’s good she’s with Duncan,” they told each other. “She’s sure to be a good influence on him.” How she had deceived them!

Only Sam Mayhew, slow of mind, seemed unable to make the mental leap the Pecks had just accomplished. He looked all around the table, from one person to the other, with his face set to laugh as soon as he saw the joke. “What? What’s that?” he said.

The others waved him aside, too busy adjusting to the shock. But Duncan came over and stood squarely in front of him and spoke very quietly, as if to a child.

“Uncle Sam, I’m marrying Justine.”

“But — you can’t!”

“I’m telling you I am. I’m telling you, not asking you. Nothing is going to make me change my mind.”

“You can’t.”

“Why, it must not even be legal!” said Caroline.

“Yes, it is,” Duncan told her.

“ Oh yes,” his grandfather said.

“But—” said Caroline.

“Who’s the lawyer here, you or me? Boys’s right. It’s true. And yes, I know, there’s a lot to be said against it. But look at it this way. What nicer girl could he have picked? She’s sure to settle him down some. And this way there’s no adjustment for them to make, no in-law problems—”

“You ought to be locked up,” Sam Mayhew said.

“Sir!” said Grandfather Peck.

“Haven’t you heard of inbreeding?”

“Not at the table, Sam.”

“Haven’t you heard of genes? ”

“Now, we come of good solid stock,” the grandfather said. “No worries there.” He picked up the carving knife. “Care for a slice of ham, Duncan boy?”

“He’s a blood relative,” said Sam Mayhew. “And he’s only twenty years old, and he hasn’t got a responsible bone in his body. Well, I’m not going to allow it. Justine won’t marry Duncan or any other Peck.”

“Then we’ll elope,” Duncan said.

“Elope!” cried Justine’s mother. “Oh, anything but that!”

“You are a fool, Caroline,” Sam Mayhew said. Then he stood and took Justine by the wrist and pulled her up and toward the door. But she was still calm and so was Duncan. Nothing seemed to disturb them. As Justine passed Duncan he gave her a slow, deep stare that caused the rest of the family to avert their eyes. “ Come , Justine,” her father said. He led her through the living room and up to her bedroom. She went without a protest. He set her in her room and shut her door and locked it, and put the key up on the ledge again before he went back to the others.

In her ruffled rocker, Justine sat and waited. The pointlessness of being locked in her room seemed more comical than annoying, and she was not worried about her family. Hadn’t Duncan predicted everything? “Your father’s the one who’ll be upset. The others will get over it. Anyway, it’s always been a bother adapting outside wives. Then your father will give in because he has to. There won’t be any problems.”

“I know there won’t.”

“There would be even less if you would just run away with me.”

“I want to do this right, I said.”

“Does it matter that much? Justine, why does it matter? They’re just a bunch of people , just some yellow-haired, ordinary people. Why do you have to ask for their approval?”

“Because I love them,” Justine said.

He didn’t have any answer for that. Love was not a word he used, even to her.

She rocked and gazed at the wintry gray sky, while downstairs the battle went on and on. Great-Grandma soothed everyone, a dry thread weaving in and out. She thought this marriage was a wonderful idea; she had never heard of genes. When Sam Mayhew stormed, Grandfather snapped and cut him short. Uncles rumbled and aunts chirped and burbled. And over it all rode Duncan’s level voice, sensible and confident. Justine could tell when he began to win. He continued alone, the others fell behind. The worst of the battle was over. All that was left was for the losers to regain face.

Justine felt suddenly stifled and bored. She went into her bathroom for her toothbrush, and took a pack of matches from her bureau drawer. She had not grown up with Duncan for nothing: heating the toothbrush handle very slowly, she pushed it little by little into the lock of her door and then turned it and walked out free. When she re-entered the dining room, they didn’t seem surprised to see her. Only Duncan, noticing the toothbrush in her hand, tipped back in his chair and looked amused, but he sobered up when Justine’s father rose and came around the table to face her.

“Justine,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“It has been pointed out to me that there’s nothing I can really do to stop you. All I can hope is that you’ll listen to reason. Justine, look. Don’t you see why you’re doing this? It’s merely proximity, the two of you had no one else, no one in this family has anyone else. You were thrown too much together, at an age when naturally . . . and you were afraid to turn to some outsider. Admit it. Isn’t that correct?”

Justine thought it over. “Well,” she said finally, “it does sound correct, yes.”

“Well, then.”

“But then, both sides sound correct. I always agree with who I’m listening to.”

He waited, expecting more. All she did was smile. “Aah!” he said suddenly, and turned away, throwing up his hands. “You even sound like him. You’re a puppet. I’ve learned something today: set a bad and a good person down together and the bad wins every time. I always wondered.”

“Say that again?” said Aunt Lucy. “Is it Duncan you’re calling bad?”

“Who else?”

“ Duncan’s not a bad boy.”

Even Duncan looked surprised.

“ Justine’s the one who kept the rest of us away from him. Justine wouldn’t tell his own mother where he was staying! Blame your daughter!”

“Why, Lucy!” Justine’s mother said.

Duncan let his chair tip forward. This might turn out to be interesting. But no, they were distracted by a new development: Sam Mayhew buttoning his suit coat. He worked with his elbows out and his clock-shaped face set impassively toward some point above their heads. They knew at once that something important was going on.

“I won’t be attending this wedding,” he said finally.

“Oh, Sam!” his wife cried.

“And I won’t be living here.”

“What?”

“I’m moving out to my parents’. I’m going to look for a house in Guilford.”

He finished the buttons. He began pulling his shirt cuffs down, neat bands of white above his chubby red hands. “You may come too, of course, Caroline. And Justine if she decides against this marriage. But I warn you: if you come, we will only be visiting your family once a month.”