“Come in,” Edward said, gesturing for the little boy to step inside. “I have to talk to you, Alex. It’s a serious matter.”
Alex stepped gingerly into the study, glancing around him. As expected, his eyes fell on the little silver dish perched pointedly on the edge of the desk. He brightened at once.
“Are those marzipans, Papa?”
“Of course. And they’re for you. Come, let’s sit and eat them.”
Edward was secretly pleased with himself for the addition of marzipans. Alex took a couple of sweets and sat in one of the chairs by the fire. He paused, wrinkling his nose.
“It smells of whiskey in here, Papa.”
Edward winced, lowering himself into the opposite chair. “Yes, I spilled some.”
Alex eyed him, his cheek bulging out with a mouthful of marzipan. “Where is Grandmother going?”
“She’s going to stay in a convent.”
“Why?”
Edward drew in a breath. He’d expected this question, of course, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear it. “Because she isn’t happy here anymore, Alex. Something very bad has been weighing on her for a long time, and she wants to get her peace of mind back.”
Was that too much? Could a child understand such a speech?
Alex eyed him for a long moment. “Is Grandmother angry at me?”
Edward flinched. “At you? No, no, Alex, never.”
“She’s unhappy, though? Can’t we do anything to make her happy again?”
Edward bit his lip, glancing away. “No, Alex, I’m afraid that we can’t. It’s a hard thing to understand, I know, but there it is. You’re old enough and clever enough to know that some thingscan’tbe changed, no matter how much we would like them to be different.”
Alex nodded slowly. “What bad thing did Grandmother do?”
“I… I can’t tell you that.”
A mulish expression settled over Alex’s face. “Why not?”
“Because you’re too young.”
“I’m too young foreverything.”
Edward leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “One day, Alex, when you’re much older, I’m going to tell you exactly what happened and what Grandmother did. I can promise you that you’ll understand. You’ll be upset, but you’ll understand why Grandmother had to go. And you’ll be glad that I didn’t tell you now.”
Alex pursed his lips. “All right. I’ll remember that you said it, though.”
“I should hope so.”
“Can I have another marzipan?”
Edward only hesitated for a moment. “Yes, if you like.”
Alex hopped down from the chair and hurried over to the sweets. He spoke again while his back was turned.
“You don’t always tell me the truth, Papa.”
Denials and excuses swarmed up inside Edward, begging to be said. He pointedly swallowed them down.
“No,” he said, as honestly as he could manage. “No, I haven’t always been honest with you. That was wrong of me. A parent should always be honest with their child. But I promise you now that I’m going to be honest with you about everything. Because, you see, I wantyouto tellmethe truth, so it would be hypocritical for me not to do you the same courtesy.”