same.
After the wine and amuse bouche were served, I reflected on our tablemates. Charity had seated us with what was left of her late sister Hope's family. Seeing these people in person, particularly Harry-the sole remaining woman-made the story I'd read in Charity's dossier more real and somehow more tragic.
Each of the men around this table had married a woman who, upon giving birth to a baby girl, had died, leaving him a widower with a small child to raise. And what of Harry, the last of the baby girls? Would she too become a victim of this sad legacy? Or was she doomed, in order to save her own life, to remain childless forever, regardless of what her desires and dreams might be?
Yet, despite this gloomy future, as I watched Harry interact with her menfolk, all of whom obviously cherished her, she seemed a hopeful, happy girl. Would all of that one day be shattered by a lineage that seemed intent on either restricting her happiness or killing her? I hoped for her sake that she had no desire to be a mother or, if she did, would find ways to be one without giving birth herself. The alternative was..
.well, a risk greater than most.
"I'm gonna check out that deck out there for a ciggy or two," Jackson announced as he pulled away from the table.
"Oh Daddy, they'll be serving the meal soon," Harry ragged on her father good-naturedly. "You stay right in your seat."
Errall stood up as well. "I think I'll join you."
The two of them regarded each other with the relief of having found a fellow smoker in a world where lobby groups and governments were making it increasingly harder for them to indulge their addiction.
"How about we slip by the bar for some scotch to bring with us?" Jackson suggested to Errall, with an expectant look on his face.
"You have yourself a deal, Mr. Delmonico."
He laughed a throaty, raspy laugh and together they set off. Harry rolled her eyes.
"Have you known my sister-in-law very long, Mr. Quant?" James McNichol, seated at my left, sidled up and asked me in a shushed tone that was not meant for the others at the table to hear.
For a moment I was stymied. I couldn't admit to having just met her if I was supposed to be playing the role of her trusted legal advisor, but I also didn't want to be caught in a lie. "For some time," I said vaguely.
"Ah well, good then, in that case I was wondering if...man to man, you know.. .if you think I've got a chance there."
I waited for more. When I realized there wasn't any I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand."
"Oh come on, man, you know what I mean. Do you think I have a chance with her? You know, to court her. You'd have to agree she is one hell of a handsome woman. Wouldn't you say?"
"Ahhh...but Dottie..."
"No, no, no, Mr. Quant. Not Dottie. Not my type. Not at all. Charity. I know it might seem a bit risque, what with she and I being in-laws and all. You do know that my first marriage was to Charity's sister, don't you? Well of course you do. But well, my goodness, certainly no one could think badly of us now. My dear Hope died sixty years ago. We had a short marriage, Mr. Quant, but oh how we loved one another. I had to move on though, hadn't I? I gladly raised our daughter Helen. And it was hard in those days for a man alone to raise a young girl. But I did it. Happy to. But when she was gone, married, and then passed on herself, I just had to move on. I was still a young man. Still virile, just as you are now."
"You remarried?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.
He gave me another of his famous winks along with a bit of a nudge in the ribs. "Well, not right away. I had a few relationships. Nothing untoward, mind you, not like young men and women do today, but I had some fun let me tell you. The dating life was for me, let me tell you. But, a man has to settle down sooner or later. So eventually, yes, I did remarry. Three times actually."
I winced, hoping he wasn't about to tell me all his wives died on him. Was
After the wine and amuse bouche were served, I reflected on our tablemates. Charity had seated us with what was left of her late sister Hope's family. Seeing these people in person, particularly Harry-the sole remaining woman-made the story I'd read in Charity's dossier more real and somehow more tragic.
Each of the men around this table had married a woman who, upon giving birth to a baby girl, had died, leaving him a widower with a small child to raise. And what of Harry, the last of the baby girls? Would she too become a victim of this sad legacy? Or was she doomed, in order to save her own life, to remain childless forever, regardless of what her desires and dreams might be?
Yet, despite this gloomy future, as I watched Harry interact with her menfolk, all of whom obviously cherished her, she seemed a hopeful, happy girl. Would all of that one day be shattered by a lineage that seemed intent on either restricting her happiness or killing her? I hoped for her sake that she had no desire to be a mother or, if she did, would find ways to be one without giving birth herself. The alternative was..
.well, a risk greater than most.
"I'm gonna check out that deck out there for a ciggy or two," Jackson announced as he pulled away from the table.
"Oh Daddy, they'll be serving the meal soon," Harry ragged on her father good-naturedly. "You stay right in your seat."
Errall stood up as well. "I think I'll join you."
The two of them regarded each other with the relief of having found a fellow smoker in a world where lobby groups and governments were making it increasingly harder for them to indulge their addiction.
"How about we slip by the bar for some scotch to bring with us?" Jackson suggested to Errall, with an expectant look on his face.
"You have yourself a deal, Mr. Delmonico."
He laughed a throaty, raspy laugh and together they set off. Harry rolled her eyes.
"Have you known my sister-in-law very long, Mr. Quant?" James McNichol, seated at my left, sidled up and asked me in a shushed tone that was not meant for the others at the table to hear.
For a moment I was stymied. I couldn't admit to having just met her if I was supposed to be playing the role of her trusted legal advisor, but I also didn't want to be caught in a lie. "For some time," I said vaguely.
"Ah well, good then, in that case I was wondering if...man to man, you know.. .if you think I've got a chance there."
I waited for more. When I realized there wasn't any I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand."
"Oh come on, man, you know what I mean. Do you think I have a chance with her? You know, to court her. You'd have to agree she is one hell of a handsome woman. Wouldn't you say?"
"Ahhh...but Dottie..."
"No, no, no, Mr. Quant. Not Dottie. Not my type. Not at all. Charity. I know it might seem a bit risque, what with she and I being in-laws and all. You do know that my first marriage was to Charity's sister, don't you? Well of course you do. But well, my goodness, certainly no one could think badly of us now. My dear Hope died sixty years ago. We had a short marriage, Mr. Quant, but oh how we loved one another. I had to move on though, hadn't I? I gladly raised our daughter Helen. And it was hard in those days for a man alone to raise a young girl. But I did it. Happy to. But when she was gone, married, and then passed on herself, I just had to move on. I was still a young man. Still virile, just as you are now."
"You remarried?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.
He gave me another of his famous winks along with a bit of a nudge in the ribs. "Well, not right away. I had a few relationships. Nothing untoward, mind you, not like young men and women do today, but I had some fun let me tell you. The dating life was for me, let me tell you. But, a man has to settle down sooner or later. So eventually, yes, I did remarry. Three times actually."
I winced, hoping he wasn't about to tell me all his wives died on him. Was