"Cannot or will not," Mrs. Starrett said sorrowfully. "She has never fully recovered from the passing of little Ernie. Do help yourself to more tea, Father."
"What a tragedy," he said, filling their cups. "But pain, sadness, and passing are all parts of the holy oneness. We must accept them and indeed welcome them as a test of our faith. For from the valley of despair the soul emerges renewed and triumphant. Do try a napoleon; they're exquisite."
"But so fattening!" she protested.
"No matter," he said, smiling at her. "You are a very regal woman, Olivia."
"Thank you," she said, glowing with pleasure. "Father, may I ask a favor?"
"Of course," he said heartily. "Anything you wish."
"I suggested to Clayton that he might consult a marriage counselor or speak to you before his decision becomes final. If there is any way at all the marriage can be saved, I must try it. Would you be willing to talk to Clayton and give him the benefit of your experience and spirituality?"
"I would be willing," Callaway said cautiously, "but would he?"
"Oh, I'm sure he would," Olivia said warmly. "Especially if you told him it was my express wish that the two of you get together and try to find a solution to this problem."
Callaway nibbled thoughtfully on a slice of panettone. "I gather that the solution you prefer is that the marriage be preserved?"
"That is my preference, yes. But if, in your opinion, the happiness of both Clayton and Eleanor would be better served by a divorce, then I'll accept that. I trust your judgment, Father, and will agree to whatever you think is best."
"It is an awesome responsibility, Olivia, but I shall do what I can. May I tell Clayton that you have told me all the details of your conversation with him?"
"Of course."
"Then I'll see what can be done. I agree with you, dear lady, that marriage is a sacred trust and those vows may only be broken for the most compelling reasons. We were put on this earth to nurture one another, to share, and every effort must be made to keep intact that holy oneness."
"I knew I could count on your understanding, Father," Mrs. Starrett said. "You're such a comfort. Now do have more tea and perhaps a slice of the torte. I believe it's made with Grand Marnier."
When Brian Callaway departed from the Starrett apartment, he paused a moment in the outside corridor to loosen his belt a notch. He then descended to the lobby and used a public phone to call Clayton at Starrett Fine Jewelry. It was almost 4:30 and Callaway guessed the man would be ready to leave his office.
Clayton was cordial enough, and when the Father asked for a meeting as soon as possible, to discuss a personal matter of "utmost importance," he agreed to meet Callaway at the bar of the Four Seasons at five o'clock or a little later.
"What's this all about?" he asked curiously.
"I prefer not to discuss it on the phone," the Father replied in magisterial tones.
He was the first to arrive and quickly downed a double vodka. He then ordered a plain tonic water and was sipping that when Clayton Starrett appeared, smiling broadly. The two men shook hands. Clayton ordered a gin martini.
"I'm afraid I'll have to make this short," Clayton said. "We have another charity benefit tonight, and I have to go home to dress."
The Father nodded. "I'll be brief," he promised. "I've just come from having tea with your mother. She asked me to meet with you. She informed me of your intention to divorce Eleanor and hopes I may persuade you to change your mind."
Clayton stared at him for a startled moment, then drained his martini. "Mother told you everything I said to her?" he asked hoarsely.
Callaway nodded. "She did. And gave me permission to tell you that she had. Clay, this is very embarrassing for me. I really have no desire to intrude on your personal affairs, but I could hardly reject your mother's request."
"Did she also tell you I want to marry Helene Pierce?"
"She told me. Clay, what's the problem between you and Eleanor?"
The younger man took a gulp of his fresh drink. "A lot of problems, Father. I guess the big one is sex-or the lack thereof. Does that shock you?"
"Hardly," Callaway said. "I guessed that might be it. Eleanor is not an unattractive woman, but compared to Helene…" His voice trailed off.
"Exactly," Clayton said. "I want a little joy in my life."
"That's understandable. But what if you ask Eleanor for a divorce and then Helene turns you down? Your mother said you told her you haven't even hinted to Helene about the way you feel."
Starrett turned his glass around and around, looking down at it. "That wasn't precisely true. I have told Helene about the way I feel about her and what I plan to do."
"And what was her reaction?"
"I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I hope I can depend on your discretion."
"I assure you this conversation has all the confidentiality of a confessional booth."
"Some booth," Clayton said, looking around at the crowded, noisy bar. "Well, if you must know, Helene will marry me the moment the divorce is a done deal."
"She told you that?"
"Not in so many words, but I'm positive that's the way she feels. Even if the divorce takes a year, Helene is willing to wait. After all, it means status and financial security for her."
"It does indeed," Callaway said. "I think I'll have another drink if you don't mind. Perhaps a straight vodka on ice this time."
"Of course," Clayton said, and summoned the bartender. "Father, I appreciate your efforts-I know you mean well-but there's no way you can change my mind."
"I didn't expect to."
"How did mother sound when she told you about it. Is she still upset?"
"She is, and somewhat confused. She wants you to be happy, and she hopes to have grandchildren someday, but the very idea of a divorce in the family disturbs her. And, of course, she's aware of the distress Eleanor will suffer."
"So mother really hasn't made up her mind?"
"Not really. As a matter of fact, she said she would be willing to accept whatever recommendation I make."
Clayton's laugh was tinny. "In other words," he said, "my fate is in your hands."
"Yes," the Father said, and took a swallow of his vodka, "you might say that. My main aim in this affair is not to cause your mother any unnecessary pain. She is a splendid woman and has made very generous contributions to the Church of the Holy Oneness."
As he said this, Callaway turned to look directly into Clayton's eyes. "Very generous contributions," he repeated.
The two men, their stare locked, were silent a moment.
"I see," Clayton said finally. "You know, Father, I feel somewhat remiss in not having offered any financial support to your church in the years I've known you."
"It's never too late," the older man said cheerfully. "The Church of the Holy Oneness is constantly in need of funds. For instance, we hope to enlarge the church kitchen so that we may provide food to more of the unfortunate homeless. But at the moment that seems just a dream. I have obtained estimates and find it would cost at least ten thousand dollars to build the kind of facility we need."
Clayton had a fit of coughing, and the Father had to pound him on the back until he calmed enough.
"Of course," Callaway continued blandly, "I realize ten thousand is a large donation for any one individual to make. But perhaps a large New York corporation might be willing to contribute to the welfare of the city's poor and hungry."