The Four Temperaments by Yona Zeldis McDonough Page A

WASPs who had plenty of money but didn't care to advertise it. The rooms needed painting and the chintz slipcovers were faded by the sun. Caroline kept several cats, and bits of their shed fur could be seen in the corners and under the Chippendale furniture. In fact, Oscar saw one cat snoozing on a sofa, and discovered another sleeping on the dining room chair where Caroline had just told him to sit.
    â€œGo on now,” said Caroline, shaking the chair a bit and waking the cat, who blinked at her several times before jumping to the floor and walking off with an indignant twitch of its tail. Then they all sat down to lunch, where Oscar had the chance to observe his son and daughter-in-law. Gabriel was more relaxed today. He tilted his chair back from the table—how many times had Ruth chided him for this in the past?—or draped his arm protectively around the back of Penelope's seat. Penelope and Ruth were absorbed with Isobel, who was seated in her high chair, so Gabriel advised Caroline about some work she was considering doing on the house, though privately Oscar suspected that she would never embark upon this or any other renovation project, and was just finding a way to be polite to her son-in-law. After the meal, when Penelope had gone upstairs to nurse Isobel and put her down for a nap, Oscar rose from the table and trying to sound casual said, “Gabriel. I'm stuffed. Let's go take a walk on the beach.”
    â€œAll right,” Gabriel agreed, and went to get their coats. Oscar felt Ruth looking at him, but he didn't trust himself to look back.
    The beach on which they walked was deserted on this November day and the wind stronger than it was in the city. The sand down by the water was packed hard and damp from the receding tide and it was along this sand that Gabriel strode quickly and Oscar—older, heavier—was forced to struggle to keep up.
    Oscar remembered the beach in another, more benign season: he and Gabriel walked here on the day of Gabriel's wedding. The party was winding down; still wearing their formal clothes, father and son ducked out for a short stroll along the rippled and fragrant shoreline. Oscar recalled how happy Gabriel seemed that day, with the breeze blowing his tie back and ruffling his hair. What had happened since then to bring Gabriel to this moment?
    â€œYou'll have to slow down just a bit,” Oscar finally said, panting slightly.
    â€œSorry, Dad,” said Gabriel, immediately slowing his pace. “I wasn't thinking. Or I mean I was thinking. But not about walking.”
    â€œWhat were you thinking, then?” Oscar asked. His heart was beating very quickly in his chest. Was it the exertion, or was he that nervous about what was to take place?
    â€œYou know.” He stopped and looked at Oscar then. “I'm sure Mom told you about yesterday.”
    â€œShe did.” Oscar started moving again and Gabriel followed along.
    â€œLook, it's nothing I planned or intended. I mean, why would I even look at anyone else with Penelope around, right? But that girl. There's something about that girl.”
    â€œI know,” said Oscar, and without meaning to, he sighed deeply. There was an uncomfortable pause in which Gabriel tried to assimilate the significance of that sigh.
    â€œAre you saying that you and Ginny . . .?”
    â€œYes” was the only thing Oscar could say. This had to be the worst, most painful conversation he had ever had with his son, and it had scarcely even begun. There was a momentary silence in which they came to a group of rocks that stretched out into the Sound; far out at the tip the rocks were wet and black, but here near the shore they were gray and dry enough for sitting. Oscar eased himself onto one of them and waited.
    â€œJesus Christ!” said Gabriel. He did not sit, but continued to stand, glaring down at Oscar. “How could you?”
    â€œHow could I? Well, let me ask you the same question. How