“I’d like that.” Gabriel finally cracked a smile. “Her name is Julianne. She’s a graduate student at Harvard.”
“She has a lovely name. How long have you been married?”
“Since January.”
“Ah, newlyweds. Do you have a picture?”
Gabriel wiped his hands with his napkin before pulling out his iPhone. He quickly scrolled to a recent photograph of Julia sitting behind his desk at their house in Cambridge. Unthinkingly, he stroked the curve of her cheek with his thumb as he gazed at the photo.
He handed the phone to his sister.
“You must love her very much.” Kelly had been watching him intently.
“I do.”
“She looks young.”
Gabriel barely suppressed a frown. “She’s younger than me, yes.”
Kelly chuckled. “At my age, everyone looks young.”
She was about to return the phone when she stopped. She peered closely at the photo. Then she tapped at the screen to enlarge it.
“What’s that on your desk?” She held the phone out to Gabriel, pointing to a small, black object.
“That’s a train engine. I’ve had it since I was a boy. Julia thought it would make a fine paperweight.”
Kelly stared at the photo again.
Gabriel frowned. “What is it?”
“It looks familiar.”
“Familiar?”
She lifted her head to look at him.
“Dad had one, from when he was a child. He kept the engine, one car, and a caboose on his dresser. Then one day, the engine disappeared. When Audrey asked him about it he said that it got broken. We thought at the time it was a feeble excuse. The engine was made of iron. Where did you say you got it from?”
“I don’t remember. I’ve always had it.”
“Interesting,” she breathed.
“Why?”
“The train was his favorite toy when he was a child. I think his initials were scratched into the bottom of the engine.” She gave Gabriel a significant look. “When you get home, you should check. I’d be interested in knowing.”
“Would it make a difference?”
“If it’s the one I’m thinking of, then he must have given it to you. Since it meant so much to him, I think you must have meant a lot to him, too.” She returned his phone to him.
“I can’t believe that.”
She toyed with her coffee cup, swirling her spoon in the brown liquid before placing it on the saucer. “But you see, I knew him. I knew him for years. He was a complicated man, a driven man, but he wasn’t cruel. He found himself caught between your mother and you, and my mother and us. I’m not saying he made the right choice. If he’d been stronger or my mother had been more forgiving, he could have had all his children living in the same city. The whole thing reminds me a little of the story of Hagar and Ishmael from the Bible. I can’t help but suspect my mother played the part of Sarah. Even though her name was Nancy. I want to believe that he loved you. That he cared about you and that’s why he kept tabs on you and included you in his will.”
“I can’t believe that.” Gabriel’s tone was cold.
“But it’s possible, brother. He wasn’t a monster. And, ‘There are more things in Heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”
“Hamlet,” said Gabriel, begrudgingly.
“I like to think our grandfather would be proud of both of us. You went to Harvard. I went to Vassar.” She smiled. “Is your wife—is Julianne religious?”
Gabriel tucked the photograph Kelly had given him in the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
“Yes. She’s Catholic and her faith means something to her. Certainly, she tries to live it.”
“And you?”
“I converted to Catholicism prior to our marriage. I believe, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I don’t think we have a Catholic on the foundation’s board. You’ll be the first.” Kelly signaled to the waiter to bring the check. “Wait till the cousins learn that there’s now a Catholic wing of Reform Judaism.”
“It was a mistake.” Gabriel huffed into his cell phone, as he connected with Julia’s voice mail. “I shouldn’t have come without you.
“Julianne, I wish you wouldn’t switch off your phone. It’s the best way for me to get hold of you. It’s after midnight and I’ve just gotten into my hotel room after having dinner with Kelly.
“Sorry I couldn’t call you earlier. Our conversation went longer than expected. She’s very nice. You were right, as usual. Funny how you’re almost always right. [exhaling slowly]
“The portrait Kelly painted of our father is very different from the one I remember. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the man she adored hit my mother. [sigh]
“I wish you were here. By the end of dinner I was beginning to doubt my memories. To doubt myself.
“I need you to do something for me. Can you look at the train engine on my desk and see if there is anything scratched into the bottom of it? It’s important.