Betrayals
Page 89
Gabriel and I were in the kitchen, washing dishes while Rose met with a client. We’d almost finished when he said, “I have a question, one for which the answer may be obvious to most, but I am going to ask it anyway.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s about gifts.”
“Abilities, you mean?”
He set a plate in the drying rack. “No, presents. There are times when a gift may be considered a presumption. For example, giving someone a pet.”
“Yeah, unless they ask for it, that’s never a good idea.”
He paused in washing another plate. “So if the giver is not certain that the gift will be well received, it shouldn’t be offered, no matter how pure the intentions.”
“Not if that gift requires paper training.”
“A poor example, then. I mean a gift that is given with all good intentions, knowing there is a chance it will seem presumptuous. Perhaps if the recipient has already declined the gift, but the giver believes it is actually desired.”
“You do realize you’re talking in riddles, right? I need concrete, Gabriel. Is this something for Rose? Tell me what it is, and I’ll give you my advice.”
He washed all the cups before saying, “I’m not looking for advice. I’m looking for absolution in case I’ve made a grievous error.” He folded the dishcloth and laid it aside. “Enough of that. I’ll show you, and if I have indeed made a mistake, understand that it was well-intentioned.”
I saw where we seemed to be heading but said nothing, even as Gabriel paused to open the front gate of the Carew house.
“No, I’m not buying you a house,” he said. “That would indeed be presumptive. Also unnecessary, given that your net wealth will outstrip my own in a few weeks. And yes,” he said as he ushered me through, “I know you don’t like to be reminded of your inheritance, because you feel you didn’t earn the money. But it isn’t as if you stole it.”
“I think I’d feel as though stealing it was earning it in a way. Even if I probably shouldn’t admit that.”
“If you did, you would be admitting it to someone who would hardly judge you for the sentiment. You have earned this inheritance, though, by birth.”
“Adoption.”
He led me up the front walk. “You did not ask for the money. You do not expect the money. You will not use it to feed some bad habit. It will be re-invested, and you’ve made it quite clear you’ll continue to work. Your inheritance will simply make life easier for you, and there is little to argue with about that. If you must, you can give some of it to charity.”
“If I must?”
“I don’t see the point, but I’m told that’s a minority opinion.”
“No, it’s just a minority of people who admit to it. And to change the subject, ooh, we’re actually going in the front door. This is new.”
He made an uninterpretable noise in his throat. As he turned the knob, my gaze lingered on the knocker, a brass cuckoo’s head. A good marriage omen. I’d seen it before, but only now did I see how detailed it was. Like the fence, it wasn’t the sort of thing you pick up at your local home improvement store. It was only as he was prodding me through that I noticed a shiny new deadbolt.
“Did the elders …?” I began.
He brushed past me to turn off the security alarm.
“New locks and an alarm system?” I said.
“Yes. I …” He cleared his throat. “I took the liberty—”
“There’s furniture,” I said, moving into the living room.
“From the attic. Temporary furnishings. They are, as you can see, rather old.”
I gave him a look. “It’s antique, which you know very well, and after the drunken confession about your office, you can no longer play that card.”
“Card?”
“The one that says you have no interest in such frivolities and whims as antique furniture. Did the elders bring all this …?” I turned to him. “No, it wasn’t the elders, was it?”
“If you’re suggesting I carried dusty furniture … Well, not much of it. The elders facilitated the hiring of locals.” He cleared his throat. “I believe the property is an excellent investment opportunity. The elders owe you, and you ought to take advantage of that in a rising housing market. I am not, however, advising you to buy it immediately. The furniture and the security is to allow you to move in temporarily, as the elders suggested.” He looked around. “I believe TC would appreciate the extra space.”
I sputtered a laugh. “TC? You’re really stretching for justifications with that one.” I moved into the front parlor and sat on the sofa, which was remarkably comfortable for a boxy davenport. “I’m surprised you’re encouraging me to move in.”
“Because the house triggers visions? Not significantly more than other locations, and I have come to accept that the elders may be correct—that it could be helpful for you to work through the visions rather than avoid them. However, I would ask that you do not stay alone until we’re certain it’s safe. I can spend the night—there’s a second bed. Or Ricky or Rose, once I have properly educated them on how to deal with your fevers.”
“You’ve worked it all out.”
He walked to the window and looked across the yard. “Last night, we talked about frivolities. I don’t believe I’m the only one who avoids them. You wouldn’t even drive the Maserati until your other vehicle was disabled.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s about gifts.”
“Abilities, you mean?”
He set a plate in the drying rack. “No, presents. There are times when a gift may be considered a presumption. For example, giving someone a pet.”
“Yeah, unless they ask for it, that’s never a good idea.”
He paused in washing another plate. “So if the giver is not certain that the gift will be well received, it shouldn’t be offered, no matter how pure the intentions.”
“Not if that gift requires paper training.”
“A poor example, then. I mean a gift that is given with all good intentions, knowing there is a chance it will seem presumptuous. Perhaps if the recipient has already declined the gift, but the giver believes it is actually desired.”
“You do realize you’re talking in riddles, right? I need concrete, Gabriel. Is this something for Rose? Tell me what it is, and I’ll give you my advice.”
He washed all the cups before saying, “I’m not looking for advice. I’m looking for absolution in case I’ve made a grievous error.” He folded the dishcloth and laid it aside. “Enough of that. I’ll show you, and if I have indeed made a mistake, understand that it was well-intentioned.”
I saw where we seemed to be heading but said nothing, even as Gabriel paused to open the front gate of the Carew house.
“No, I’m not buying you a house,” he said. “That would indeed be presumptive. Also unnecessary, given that your net wealth will outstrip my own in a few weeks. And yes,” he said as he ushered me through, “I know you don’t like to be reminded of your inheritance, because you feel you didn’t earn the money. But it isn’t as if you stole it.”
“I think I’d feel as though stealing it was earning it in a way. Even if I probably shouldn’t admit that.”
“If you did, you would be admitting it to someone who would hardly judge you for the sentiment. You have earned this inheritance, though, by birth.”
“Adoption.”
He led me up the front walk. “You did not ask for the money. You do not expect the money. You will not use it to feed some bad habit. It will be re-invested, and you’ve made it quite clear you’ll continue to work. Your inheritance will simply make life easier for you, and there is little to argue with about that. If you must, you can give some of it to charity.”
“If I must?”
“I don’t see the point, but I’m told that’s a minority opinion.”
“No, it’s just a minority of people who admit to it. And to change the subject, ooh, we’re actually going in the front door. This is new.”
He made an uninterpretable noise in his throat. As he turned the knob, my gaze lingered on the knocker, a brass cuckoo’s head. A good marriage omen. I’d seen it before, but only now did I see how detailed it was. Like the fence, it wasn’t the sort of thing you pick up at your local home improvement store. It was only as he was prodding me through that I noticed a shiny new deadbolt.
“Did the elders …?” I began.
He brushed past me to turn off the security alarm.
“New locks and an alarm system?” I said.
“Yes. I …” He cleared his throat. “I took the liberty—”
“There’s furniture,” I said, moving into the living room.
“From the attic. Temporary furnishings. They are, as you can see, rather old.”
I gave him a look. “It’s antique, which you know very well, and after the drunken confession about your office, you can no longer play that card.”
“Card?”
“The one that says you have no interest in such frivolities and whims as antique furniture. Did the elders bring all this …?” I turned to him. “No, it wasn’t the elders, was it?”
“If you’re suggesting I carried dusty furniture … Well, not much of it. The elders facilitated the hiring of locals.” He cleared his throat. “I believe the property is an excellent investment opportunity. The elders owe you, and you ought to take advantage of that in a rising housing market. I am not, however, advising you to buy it immediately. The furniture and the security is to allow you to move in temporarily, as the elders suggested.” He looked around. “I believe TC would appreciate the extra space.”
I sputtered a laugh. “TC? You’re really stretching for justifications with that one.” I moved into the front parlor and sat on the sofa, which was remarkably comfortable for a boxy davenport. “I’m surprised you’re encouraging me to move in.”
“Because the house triggers visions? Not significantly more than other locations, and I have come to accept that the elders may be correct—that it could be helpful for you to work through the visions rather than avoid them. However, I would ask that you do not stay alone until we’re certain it’s safe. I can spend the night—there’s a second bed. Or Ricky or Rose, once I have properly educated them on how to deal with your fevers.”
“You’ve worked it all out.”
He walked to the window and looked across the yard. “Last night, we talked about frivolities. I don’t believe I’m the only one who avoids them. You wouldn’t even drive the Maserati until your other vehicle was disabled.”
