Free Days of Winter by Cynthia Freeman Page A

the brandy glasses, he handed one to his son, then seated himself again. “Is she going to have your child? Is that the problem?”
    “I wish she was, it might be simpler.”
    “Is she in love with you?”
    “Yes …”
    “Still, you couldn’t have known her for long.”
    “Is time the right barometer? I’ve known Jocelyn for a lifetime—”
    “Forgive me, Rubin, but I always thought love was something that grew. Of course, I come from a different generation …”
    “Forgive me, Father, but I suspect love hasn’t changed so much—”
    “I suppose you’re right, Rubin. But the point is, what do you plan to do about this … woman?”
    “Nothing.”
    Nathan nodded, and smiled for the first time. “You are right, Rubin … love has not changed so much from my generation to yours. …” And then he astonished his son as he told him for the first time … as though suddenly they were old confidants … how “when I was about your age, perhaps a little younger, I, too, thought I was completely in love … with a lovely young ballerina. Ludicrous when I look back on it now, of course, but at the time, believe me, I was inconsolable. …Marriage was out of the question, unthinkable, she could never have been accepted. …We have so much, but we can’t always have what we want. When I think back … about how different my life would have been …”
    And Rubin was hearing his father’s last words merge with what Solange had said …What would have become of my life if I’d had the courage to run away with …? Nathan’s words brought him back. “I have my father, God rest his soul, to thank for setting me straight. I met your mother shortly afterward. And by then, Rubin, would you believe it, I could scarcely remember the girl’s face. Loving your mother as I did, I understood the other was only a passing matter, a young man experiencing life, as they say, for the first time. Now, the most astonishing thing is … quite accidentally, I ran into this woman on the street a few years ago. I would have passed her by if she hadn’t called out my name. When we spoke, briefly, it was like talking to a stranger. She had become, I’m afraid, a rather vain, unattractive woman. I walked away thinking, And for that I almost gave up my heritage, my life. So I know what you are going through, Rubin. I also know it will pass. Jocelyn is right for you. Once you’re married, settled into your life, your affection for her will turn into the love and devotion I feel for your mother. There will be children … and before you know it, this woman in Paris will cease to exist. This, I promise …”
    You’re wrong, Father, our stories are not parallel … I won’t forget Magda’s face … I won’t stop loving her … You can’t promise me anything, it isn’t yours to promise. …But I’ll be your loving, obedient son, the son you respect. …
    At least he would try. One thing, he was relieved he no longer had to go on deceiving his father. And for a moment, he felt almost rewarded in his misery as Nathan stood up and put his arms around his son’s shoulders.
    From that day, Rubin became a mechanical man, doing all the right things … saying what was expected. His conduct was exemplary. He was with Jocelyn constantly, working doggedly at the alchemy to change respect and affection into desire and love. He barely felt alive.
    Two weeks before the wedding, Jocelyn showed Rubin through their new house, now completely furnished. Hand in hand she led him from room to room, in the fine mansion off Regents Park, the gift of her parents. Rubin found himself being led into the bedroom. He felt nothing as he looked at the large four-poster bed. He had to turn away and walk to the window. It was Magda he saw in that bed … Magda who—
    “Are you pleased, darling?”
    He looked at her. “Oh, yes, it’s very nice, very …”
    Jocelyn put her head on his shoulder. “We’re going to be very happy here, Rubin …Darling, I do