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Chapter 6
“He says he doesn’t need anyone,” Brick explained.
Being the owner of ‘Johnny’s’, and Julia’s friend, too, he was calling Julia to tell her not to
worry, since there was every indication that Mason was staying at the bar till the closing time.
Maybe all night.
“Brick,” Julia said helplessly. “Please. Get him home. Oh please.”
“But why?” Brick was not too thrilled with the idea. “The man’s so drunk there’s no talking to
him. He wants to stay here. Let him! Why should you make such a fuss?”
Julia sat down. Mason getting drunk was bad enough, in her universe, but not having him
home when the nights were like this for him promised to be worse.
“Brick, you just don’t understand,” she said. “It would be just way too cruel to let him stay
there alone.”
“He can go to another bar that’s open all night.”
“Of course he can. The question is, do you want a pregnant woman – almost your aunt, by
the way – to be running after him from one bar to another all night long!”
“Julia,” Brick said reproachfully. “I really do not see the point. If the guy thinks it fit to stay out
for the night, why should you worry so? Go to bed and relax. You’re pregnant and need your
rest. Let him spend the night in a ditch or wherever he chooses.”
“Brick!!”
Julia was growing desperate. She was not going to share with him the intimate details of how
Mason’s trauma realized itself, but she could not let Mason down, either.
“Believe me,” she said. “I can’t sleep unless Mason is with me. Of course I’d rather he were
sober, but since that version is not available at the moment--”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” Brick said. “If Mason thinks he can treat a woman like you
this way, and he’s not your husband yet – think what he will do to you when you are husband
and wife!”
“It’s my problem, Brick,” Julia said coolly.
Actually this bothered her, too, and to hear it voiced from almost a stranger – and then, “How
do you know it’s not a kind of test he’s putting you through?” made her sigh deeply.
She did not know; she just did not know. Whether Mason was trying to have her react in a
certain way, or he just could not fight his drinking habit any longer – it did not seem as
important as getting him home for the night.
“Do you or do you not want me to spend the night at the bar stand?” she specified.
Brick sighed, too. “I’ll ask Pearl to get Mason to you,” he said. “I have my hands full with
Johnny, and the place to run, and--”
“Thank you Brick,” Julia interrupted.
She hated people telling her what to do; when she knew some course of action was right she
could sacrifice anything to follow it. In this case, she could doubt she should be marrying
Mason, but she did not doubt she would not leave Mason alone to face his demons, this night.
She’d think about it later, she told herself like Scarlett O’Hara and smiled. There would be
plenty of time to think later, when Mason was at home and she was sitting by, holding his
hand and wiping his brow. Was it the masochist in her speaking, she wondered; she honestly
did not know.
“You’re making a mistake, Julia,” Brick said again. “You ought to respect yourself more.”
“Ok. Is Pearl there, please?”
Pearl was around; he seemed to be around every time he was needed. “No problem Julia,”
he said cheerfully.
“Oh Pearl!” she exclaimed. It was such a relief to hear him, after this exhausting lecture.
“Thank you, Pearl. Are you sure you’re not my guardian angel, after all?”
Pearl only smiled, - but just because it was his usual way to react.
Julia had no idea how close she was to the truth.
As the fates decreed – and no one had asked Pearl whether he wanted this or not – he really
was a kind of guardian angel for many people in Santa Barbara; just a little bit too many for
him to manage to save them all and to help them all out of trouble.
He did his best, of course, as became an angel; and he was wise and had no private life, as,
most probably, became an angel, too.
*
Mason woke up with a start. There had been no nightmare this time – just the black
emptiness all around. With some difficulty, he opened his eyes. He was on the couch in his
own lounge, fully dressed but still with a pillow under his head. ‘Julia,’ he thought.
One night of drinking; surely it wasn’t such a big deal. But Mason knew he’d have to
apologize to Julia. He did not remember how he had got home, or what he might have said to
her.
Trying not to make noise, Mason got on his feet and, with dismay, found he could not
coordinate his movements too well. It was dark. He switched on a little lamp on the desk and
looked at his watch. Three a.m.
Mason tiptoed to the bedroom and peeped in. Julia was sleeping, and though he could not
see it he knew she had been crying. Her position showed she was cold; carefully, Mason
threw a blanket over her. He wanted to touch her hair but he did not dare.
Mason Capwell hated feeling ashamed. And shame was what he usually felt after he had
gotten drunk. Of course only if there was a person who cared if he had; and Julia was
definitely such a person. Leaning against the doorpost and watching her sleep, Mason was
trying to sort out his emotions, but unsuccessfully. Maybe he had drunk too much, or he had
not drunk enough.
She needed her sleep, Mason told himself at last and gently closed the door. His heartfelt
monologues could wait.
Well, he did not want to sleep. As quietly as before he went to the nursery and sat down by
Matthew’s cot. His son was asleep, his small fists lying on both sides of his head. What was
he dreaming about, Mason wondered.
He sat like this for a while, and then Matt’s little face got distorted, he waved his hands and
started crying. Mason hurried to take him in his arms. “Hush, daddy’s here.”
The baby wept a little, but soon calmed down in daddy’s arms. “A bad dream?” Mason asked
him. “I know what this can be like. Hush, let’s try not to wake up our Julia.”
Matt seemed to agree. He closed his eyes and fell asleep again. Mason could replace him
into his cot; but for some reason he did not want to. He kept walking to and fro, lulling the
baby and talking to him in whispers.
“Daddy’s here, Matt, and daddy loves you,” he was saying.
Little Matt was probably the most real thing in Mason’s universe, and Mason was his only
living parent. Mason knew he could dally with the idea he still was free to jump out of his
commitment with Julia if he wanted to; but there was this responsibility for the tiny human
being he could not shift onto anybody. And this did not feel like a burden, rather like a
privilege – to take care of the little one, to help him grow and develop and to be – responsible.
“You’ll get a new brother or sister soon, Matt,” Mason said. “And you know what? In MY
family there will be no ‘first-rate’ and ‘second-rate’ children. I loved your mother like I never
knew I could; and I love Julia though I thought I could never love again. I do believe you have
taught me lots of things, son…” he smiled, “things my own father failed to teach me. And you’ll
see, I won’t let you down.”
Mason grimaced and amended, “I’ll try not to.”
“He says he doesn’t need anyone,” Brick explained.
Being the owner of ‘Johnny’s’, and Julia’s friend, too, he was calling Julia to tell her not to
worry, since there was every indication that Mason was staying at the bar till the closing time.
Maybe all night.
“Brick,” Julia said helplessly. “Please. Get him home. Oh please.”
“But why?” Brick was not too thrilled with the idea. “The man’s so drunk there’s no talking to
him. He wants to stay here. Let him! Why should you make such a fuss?”
Julia sat down. Mason getting drunk was bad enough, in her universe, but not having him
home when the nights were like this for him promised to be worse.
“Brick, you just don’t understand,” she said. “It would be just way too cruel to let him stay
there alone.”
“He can go to another bar that’s open all night.”
“Of course he can. The question is, do you want a pregnant woman – almost your aunt, by
the way – to be running after him from one bar to another all night long!”
“Julia,” Brick said reproachfully. “I really do not see the point. If the guy thinks it fit to stay out
for the night, why should you worry so? Go to bed and relax. You’re pregnant and need your
rest. Let him spend the night in a ditch or wherever he chooses.”
“Brick!!”
Julia was growing desperate. She was not going to share with him the intimate details of how
Mason’s trauma realized itself, but she could not let Mason down, either.
“Believe me,” she said. “I can’t sleep unless Mason is with me. Of course I’d rather he were
sober, but since that version is not available at the moment--”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” Brick said. “If Mason thinks he can treat a woman like you
this way, and he’s not your husband yet – think what he will do to you when you are husband
and wife!”
“It’s my problem, Brick,” Julia said coolly.
Actually this bothered her, too, and to hear it voiced from almost a stranger – and then, “How
do you know it’s not a kind of test he’s putting you through?” made her sigh deeply.
She did not know; she just did not know. Whether Mason was trying to have her react in a
certain way, or he just could not fight his drinking habit any longer – it did not seem as
important as getting him home for the night.
“Do you or do you not want me to spend the night at the bar stand?” she specified.
Brick sighed, too. “I’ll ask Pearl to get Mason to you,” he said. “I have my hands full with
Johnny, and the place to run, and--”
“Thank you Brick,” Julia interrupted.
She hated people telling her what to do; when she knew some course of action was right she
could sacrifice anything to follow it. In this case, she could doubt she should be marrying
Mason, but she did not doubt she would not leave Mason alone to face his demons, this night.
She’d think about it later, she told herself like Scarlett O’Hara and smiled. There would be
plenty of time to think later, when Mason was at home and she was sitting by, holding his
hand and wiping his brow. Was it the masochist in her speaking, she wondered; she honestly
did not know.
“You’re making a mistake, Julia,” Brick said again. “You ought to respect yourself more.”
“Ok. Is Pearl there, please?”
Pearl was around; he seemed to be around every time he was needed. “No problem Julia,”
he said cheerfully.
“Oh Pearl!” she exclaimed. It was such a relief to hear him, after this exhausting lecture.
“Thank you, Pearl. Are you sure you’re not my guardian angel, after all?”
Pearl only smiled, - but just because it was his usual way to react.
Julia had no idea how close she was to the truth.
As the fates decreed – and no one had asked Pearl whether he wanted this or not – he really
was a kind of guardian angel for many people in Santa Barbara; just a little bit too many for
him to manage to save them all and to help them all out of trouble.
He did his best, of course, as became an angel; and he was wise and had no private life, as,
most probably, became an angel, too.
*
Mason woke up with a start. There had been no nightmare this time – just the black
emptiness all around. With some difficulty, he opened his eyes. He was on the couch in his
own lounge, fully dressed but still with a pillow under his head. ‘Julia,’ he thought.
One night of drinking; surely it wasn’t such a big deal. But Mason knew he’d have to
apologize to Julia. He did not remember how he had got home, or what he might have said to
her.
Trying not to make noise, Mason got on his feet and, with dismay, found he could not
coordinate his movements too well. It was dark. He switched on a little lamp on the desk and
looked at his watch. Three a.m.
Mason tiptoed to the bedroom and peeped in. Julia was sleeping, and though he could not
see it he knew she had been crying. Her position showed she was cold; carefully, Mason
threw a blanket over her. He wanted to touch her hair but he did not dare.
Mason Capwell hated feeling ashamed. And shame was what he usually felt after he had
gotten drunk. Of course only if there was a person who cared if he had; and Julia was
definitely such a person. Leaning against the doorpost and watching her sleep, Mason was
trying to sort out his emotions, but unsuccessfully. Maybe he had drunk too much, or he had
not drunk enough.
She needed her sleep, Mason told himself at last and gently closed the door. His heartfelt
monologues could wait.
Well, he did not want to sleep. As quietly as before he went to the nursery and sat down by
Matthew’s cot. His son was asleep, his small fists lying on both sides of his head. What was
he dreaming about, Mason wondered.
He sat like this for a while, and then Matt’s little face got distorted, he waved his hands and
started crying. Mason hurried to take him in his arms. “Hush, daddy’s here.”
The baby wept a little, but soon calmed down in daddy’s arms. “A bad dream?” Mason asked
him. “I know what this can be like. Hush, let’s try not to wake up our Julia.”
Matt seemed to agree. He closed his eyes and fell asleep again. Mason could replace him
into his cot; but for some reason he did not want to. He kept walking to and fro, lulling the
baby and talking to him in whispers.
“Daddy’s here, Matt, and daddy loves you,” he was saying.
Little Matt was probably the most real thing in Mason’s universe, and Mason was his only
living parent. Mason knew he could dally with the idea he still was free to jump out of his
commitment with Julia if he wanted to; but there was this responsibility for the tiny human
being he could not shift onto anybody. And this did not feel like a burden, rather like a
privilege – to take care of the little one, to help him grow and develop and to be – responsible.
“You’ll get a new brother or sister soon, Matt,” Mason said. “And you know what? In MY
family there will be no ‘first-rate’ and ‘second-rate’ children. I loved your mother like I never
knew I could; and I love Julia though I thought I could never love again. I do believe you have
taught me lots of things, son…” he smiled, “things my own father failed to teach me. And you’ll
see, I won’t let you down.”
Mason grimaced and amended, “I’ll try not to.”
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