“No, this is fine.” He left to dash back across the quad.
Alicia rose to throw more logs onto the fire, the fireplace being quite large to accommodate the big room. “Harry, I’d like to think people can change.”
“I would, too, but it seems to me that some corruptions are more easily overcome than others.” Harry selected a deep-red rosebud.
“Sex. That’s harder to fix than greed. Or should I say lust?” Racquel said.
“Really? I think money trumps everything in our culture,” Susan replied.
“I don’t think so.” Racquel offered her argument in the best sense of the word. “Lust is irrational. The desire for money is rational.”
“But aren’t the seven deadly sins all irrational? I mean, when it gets to that level of an obsession.” BoomBoom, like most people among friends, didn’t mind taking a bit of grammatical license.
Important as good grammar can be, it can also be stultifying in free- flowing conversation.
“Okay. How do you know when it’s reached the level of obsession?” Harry liked to talk about ideas, not people.
“Maybe it’s different for each person,” Jean offered.
BoomBoom, whose husband died young, had entered into a string of affairs with men, one of whom was Fair Haristeen, D.V.M., Harry’s husband. They were separated at the time, and Harry subsequently divorced him. He worked on himself, kept after her for years once he recognized his error, and finally won her back. Nothing happens in a vacuum. Harry had to realize that she contributed to his wandering by focusing on whatever tasks presented themselves to her. She could have focused on him a little more. She was learning.
“Wouldn’t a sign be if you knew you should slow down but you speeded up?” The corgi added canine conversation to this topic.
Just then, led by Mrs. Murphy, the cats leapt onto the table, running from end to end. Grapevines hit the floor; rosebuds skidded off the table. BoomBoom quickly secured the magnolia blossoms, as they were more fragile. Beads clattered.
“I’m sorry. I should never have brought these monsters,” Harry apologized.
“Oh, the Rev’s cats would have done the honors.” BoomBoom, an animal lover, laughed.
What was a little cleanup compared to watching animals love life?
“We would not. We’re Christian cats,” Lucy Fur protested, prudently jumping off the table.
“Ha.” Pewter jumped off, too. “Lucy Fur, you’re the most Christian at dinnertime.”
“You should talk, lard- ass.” Cazenovia, the long-haired calico, now chased Pewter.
“May I?” Harry got up and opened the cooler.
“Under the circumstances, I think it imperative.” Jean smiled.
Once the torn- up sandwich was on the floor, paper towels underneath, the cats settled down. Tucker received half a sandwich, too. Water was put out for them.
The great hall boasted a kitchen good enough for a fancy restaurant; it had running water, a Sub-Zero refrigerator, a big Viking stove, and other items to delight a chef.
Back at the table, Harry plopped down.
“Those sandwiches smell good.” Susan’s remark encouraged the ladies to take a food break.
“You mentioned that Aunt Phillipa’s mind is clear. How is she taking this?” Alicia asked Racquel.
“With fortitude. She’s eighty-six. She’s ready to go. Fighting to breathe robs any delight one might harbor. But she amazes me. So do the brothers. I didn’t think I’d much like them hovering about, but they’ve been good. Well, Christopher Hewitt isn’t too good. Brother Morris,” she mentioned the prior, “says he has to do some hospice work.
Mostly Christopher runs the Christmas tree farm. He knows how to make money. Bryson is there more than I am, so Aunt Phillipa receives lots of attention. He has two elderly patients there, as well.”
BoomBoom, who’d gone to high school with Christopher, as did Harry, Fair, and Susan, said, “I haven’t seen Christopher since he joined the brotherhood. Not that we were bosom buddies before.”
“Heard he became a brother after he got out of jail in Arizona. Money led him down the garden path. I am going over to the Christmas tree farm later, and maybe he’ll be there.” Harry was looking forward to picking out a tree.
Susan spoke to Alicia, Racquel, and Jean, who did not go to Crozet High School. “Christopher was a year behind Harry and me. He was handsome. And he was always elected treasurer of whatever group he was in.”
“Good training.” BoomBoom laughed.
“That comes back to my question,” said Harry. “Can a leopard change his spots? I don’t know all of the details, but Christopher was a stockbroker, became involved in insider trading, losing millions of clients’ money. I just wonder.”
“Well, I changed my spots.” BoomBoom laughed again, at herself this time.
“Oh, you were never that bad.” Susan liked her school chum, although she sided with Harry during the affair, which was natural.
“Bad enough.” Harry laughed, too. “But isn’t it funny how things turn out? All three of us have grown closer.”
BoomBoom became serious. “The truth is I didn’t know what love was until I met Alicia. I was running on empty and running from man to man.”
“You sweet thing,” Alicia said.
Racquel, not one to hold back, asked, “Think you were always gay?”
“No. Not for a second. I don’t even know if I am now, but I love Alicia. If that makes me gay, I’m happy to claim it. But, Racquel, I never once thought about another woman that way.” She turned to Jean. “Which reminds me, I’m surprised Bill allows you to work with Alicia and me.”
Jean rolled her eyes. “He’s gotten worse. He’s not as bad about two women as two men, but he’s really become a bigot. The other thing that sets him off is illegal immigration.” She looked around at the others. “The man I married was purposeful but fun. I don’t know—he entered his forties and now he’s such a crab. I hasten to add that he’s good to me. But he really loathes anything and everything about gay men. I just don’t know what to do about it, because there are gay men in our social groups. He avoids them.”
“Not a thing you can do.” Racquel shrugged, then tossed a rosebud at Harry. “The leopard and his spots. I worry about Bryson. He says he’s changed, but I don’t know. These last few months I kind of get the feeling he’s slipping back. I’ve checked the new nurses. None is his type.”
“Racquel, there hasn’t been a whiff of gossip, and you know that the hospital is a hotbed of it. If he were sleeping with a nurse, we’d know.” Jean wanted Racquel to be happy.
“I’d have heard.” Susan did hear a lot, plus her husband—a lawyer—served as a representative in the Virginia legislature and was on the hospital board.
“I don’t know.” Racquel appeared glum for a minute. “I swear to you, if he is fooling around and I catch him, that is one man who will be singing soprano in the choir.”
All the women laughed at this, each knowing, however fleetingly, that thought of revenge. Pewter and the others had been listening. “I’m not changing
my spots.” “You don’t have any spots.” Tucker laughed at her. “You know what I mean.” Pewter stared crossly at the dog. “That you think you’re perfect,” Tucker said. “I’m glad you recognize that.” Pewter beamed as the other cats laughed.
2
A string of red and green lightbulbs, supported by four poles, formed a square shining down on rows of freshly cut Christmas trees. The Brothers of Love kept a tight grasp on the wallet. No need to squander funds on fancy lights or even a crèche. The Christmas tree farm provided the brothers with half their annual income.
The square rows of Scotch pines undulated, roots balled and in large pots. Other trees, still planted, would be dug up after the shopper selected one. A forklift put the pots of freshly dug trees into truck beds. Sliding a potted tree into a station wagon proved more difficult, since the root balls were quite heavy, but after ten years the brothers had it down to a science.