Page 88 of The Holy Grail
“Monroe,” Beverly warned rather sharply. “That’s not our business.”
Monroe ignored her, his eyes on Jules. “I’m asking, because it would displease me if my son chose not to have children of his own one day.”
“Well,” Jules paused to take a sip of her sidecar, before continuing with, “I’m fortunate the happiness of my parents doesn’t depend on my having children, so I don’t have to live with the burden of that expectation. I think it would be soul crushing, to be honest, to feel like I had to provide my parents with a grandchild in order to please them, especially since I really have no desire to be a mother. Not everyone is meant to be a parent, and unfortunately there are too many people out there whoareparents, but aren’t necessarily very good ones.” She said that last part looking directly at Monroe, before adding, “And for all I know, I could end up being one of those.”
He seemed surprised by her admission. “You don’t think you’d be a good parent?”
“Well, I like my life to be relatively unstructured and unencumbered, so I think that makes me a little selfish, for lack of a better word. I’ve always just wanted to live my fullest life—to travel and do whatever I want, whenever I want, with total freedom. That, to me, is the dream.” She glanced at Malcom for a second before turning back to Monroe. “Now, if at some point in the future, living my fullest life were to involve someone I wanted to share my life with, I would want to be his sole focus, since he would be mine. I’d want to be able to give him all of my love and attention, and get all of his in return, and not share him with anyone.”
From across the table, Beverly caught Jules’ eye and smiled, then waded into the conversation. “You said your parents have been married forty-five years?”
The abrupt change of topic threw Jules for a moment. “Yes. Why?”
“It just struck me they were married for about eight years before you came along. Does that mean you have a few older siblings?”
“No, I’m an only child,” Jules answered, then went on to further explain, “My parents tried for several years to conceive naturally, before turning to adoption.”
“So, you’re adopted,” Beverly said.
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s wonderful.”
Jules smiled at her. “I agree.”
Monroe was looking at Jules like she’d actually lost a few more points in his estimation at this revelation. “So, do you know anything about your real parents?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked that question, so Jules was ready with her answer. “My real parents are Richard and Edie Shaw, and I know everything about them.”
“I meant your biological parents,” he clarified, a little impatiently.
“Then you should have specified that, because ‘real’ and ‘biological’ are two entirely different things.”
Clearly not appreciating being schooled by Jules, Monroe glanced around, ostensibly for Yvonne and his replacement drink. After coming to the conclusion it wasn’t coming, he speared Beverly with an aggravated look, before turning his attention back to the conversation and rephrasing the question. “So do you know anything about yourbiologicalparents?”
“I don’t know anything about my biological father, but I know my biological mother was in high school when she got pregnant. I don’t know why she put me up foradoption—maybe because she was young, didn’t have the resources or support to raise a child, or didn’t think she would be a good mother. What I do know is she got pregnant, chose not to terminate the pregnancy, and put me up for adoption, making it possible for me to have a wonderful life with the Shaws.”
“You were lucky. Thousands of children don’t get adopted.”
“I’m aware of how lucky I was. Which is why I’ve always been driven to live my life to the fullest, and not waste the gift I was given.”
From there, Monroe seemed to withdraw from the conversation, letting it flow around him, although he continued to watch Jules, as if he was worried she might try and steal the family silver if he took his eyes off her.
After the final course was cleared away by Yvonne—a delicious chocolate cake, which Jules unapologetically finished off in unladylike record time—Malcom brought the evening to a close. As goodbyes were exchanged, Jules felt a definite warmth from Beverly, and a distinct lack thereof from Monroe. He was polite enough, but Jules knew he didn’t approve of her for his son and was likely hoping the relationship would be short-lived.
Probably because of that, Jules felt the need to give him an almost over-the-top, warm handshake, while saying, “It was so nice to meet you!”
Once in Malcom’s car, he surprised her by turning to her with a resigned look on his face. “I’m never going to see you again after tonight, am I?” he asked.
“What?” She laughed at the ridiculous statement. “It takes more than someone like your dad to run me off.”
“Really? Because I wouldn’t blame you at all. He was in rare form tonight.”
“Is he usually not like that?”
“No, he is, but he was a littlemorethan usual.”
“Part of that might have been my doing. I tend to rub assholes the wrong way.”
