Easter It was, at four degrees, a tad cool in the back garden, but with the whole family, William, and Stephen’s girlfriend all present and rain and significant wind both absent, Easter lunch had been moved there anyway and the church clothes they were all still wearing made a bit more comfortable by some warming charms. This year, after all, being all crowded too closely together and eating off the everyday dishes was unthinkable, as it was even more of an occasion than usual, being both Julian’s beau’s first significant Easter and the day when Paul’s only sister had announced that she and said beau were getting engaged.
Paul and Stephen had both hugged and kissed their sister and shaken hands with their brother-in-law-to-be, making light, joking comments about how he would die a protracted and painful death if he ever hurt Julian. Later, Paul knew from a look they had exchanged, he and Stephen would quite seriously explain to William how they would strap him down and let John vivisect him if he did so, but since that wasn’t quite the tone to take at a party, they had left it at that for now and gone on with laughing, gossiping, discussing the news, and eating the rich foods the rest of the family had largely abstained from for the past forty days. Paul, caught between discussing Quodpot players with Julian and laughing at the rate at which Joe was inhaling butter tart, had not immediately noticed John’s absence from the table, but Julian seemed to have done so; she’d raised her eyebrows at him and tipped her head toward the house and Paul, secretly relieved by the chance to get away from the hustle and bustle for a moment himself, nodded and obeyed her instructions even though he highly doubted John actually wanted or needed company.
Inside, to his surprise, he found his brother in the living room, looking at a page very near the front of the ‘family’ Bible which, to Paul’s recollection, had only ever been used on Easter and Christmas Eves. Looking over John’s shoulder, he saw the page was the one where important dates were inscribed – Alison’s confirmation and first Communion as an adult convert, the date of their parents’ marriage, baptism and Communion and Confirmation dates for each of the kids. John was staring through it, drumming his fingers rapidly, and it was impossible to tell if it had anything to do with what John was thinking or not from the outside.
He was even more surprised when John suddenly spoke, clearly aware of Paul’s presence. “You’re not here,” he observed.
Paul blinked, but then nodded. “No,” he agreed.
“Why?”
Paul shrugged. “Because I never did any of those things,” he said.
John gave him a look of sharp annoyance. “No kidding, Sherlock,” he said, and Paul had to laugh at the point.
“You shouldn’t have asked a vague question,” argued Paul, and John grinned for a moment before his face settled back into the scowl that meant he was thinking particularly hard.
“Why didn’t you?” he asked.
Paul sat down and thought hard for a moment himself. He had talked about this with Stephen before, but John was both much less tolerant than Stephen and very much more Paul’s younger brother than he was just John’s brother. This fact was part of the answer to John’s question. Unfortunately, he could not explain that without wandering into territory that had a history of pissing John off….
“You really want to know?” he asked.
“It’s why I asked,” said John.
Paul sighed, rubbed the back of his neck – and then answered the question. “Matthew 10:37,” he said.
John flipped most of the book over, then flipped more carefully until he found the correct book and chapter. His finger moved rapidly down the page, paused, and then, “Ah.”
“Indeed,” said Paul. A slightly awkward silence fell until Paul filled it. “The last thing Sam said to me before – well – everything – it was to take care of my brothers,” he said shortly. John’s only reaction was to begin drumming his fingers again, faster this time. This was not, as far as John’s reactions to the mention of their biological mother went, a particularly bad reaction, so Paul continued. “I couldn’t sign on to a system when the entrance requirements involved swearing I would put someone else ahead of you and Joe, if it came to that. That’s all.”
John began dragging his fingernails up and down the page, causing Paul to worry he would damage the tissue-thin sheet of paper. “An agreement Joe and I made,” he observed.
Paul shrugged. “You were both baptized before you were old enough to know what was going on,” he said. “Much less make decisions. I was old enough to think about it.”
“And potentially going to Hell registered as the better option?”
Paul shrugged. “I can’t control what happens to me after I die,” he said. “I can control what I do right now. And I can’t prioritize something I can’t say with certainty will ever happen over my family.”
John frowned and fidgeted, obviously disturbed. “So you don’t believe in God or Hell,” he said.
“I believe in God, certainly,” he said. “As for the rest – “ he shrugged and decided to take the easy way out before John launched into a full Socratic dialogue and forced Paul to say something either logically invalid or which would make his brother explosively angry. He could happily argue with a lot of people that the deal they were discussing was selfish, putting one’s own soul’s well-being ahead of one’s family, but he did not think John would appreciate that and he did not wish to deal with the headache. This was something they were not likely to agree on, so there was no point in arguing about it. “You’ve read Julian of Norwich,” he said. “If she’s right, it might not even be an issue. Can’t know it.” Unless, of course, one accepted the church’s authority, but their disagreement on that point was part of the premise of this discussion.
John scowled, closing the Bible and now running his fingers up and down along the edge of the leather front cover. “The Lady Julian,” he muttered. “Sin has its place – but all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” His head twitched slightly to the side and he rubbed his temple. “Not exactly orthodox, her – that interpretation,” he said.
“Neither are you,” said Paul. “You’d have to cross the Bow every Sunday just to get to one of their churches.”
John did chuckle, but distantly, his mind clearly still on Julian of Norwich. “Nothing happens by luck or chance,” he said, as though reciting. “Everything that is done is well-done, because God has done it.”
Suddenly, John’s face relaxed. “That is an interesting thought,” he said, and absently patted Paul on the shoulder as he stood up and put the book back in its place. “I’ll need to read the whole thing through to be sure about it, but…Do you think William is sincere?”
This was said clearly, looking suddenly directly at Paul again, and came out of nowhere. Paul was sure they were all thinking it – no-one had said anything about it, but it had been fairly obvious that William and Julian had agreed to marry before today, during the time when William had not been a member of the church and had therefore been ineligible, by the family’s lights, to marry Julian – but he supposed his sister was good enough she might have genuinely brought her boyfriend ‘round. Anything was possible, and history said she wouldn’t be the first woman to accomplish something of the sort. “I have no idea,” he said.
John nodded. “Good show,” he said. “I need to go read.”
“No,” said Paul firmly. “You need to come back to the table and look happy so Julian doesn’t think she’s annoying you by causing a party.”
John thought about this for a moment. “Or I could do that,” he said, and followed Paul back into the garden.
OOC: Matthew 10:37 – “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;” (New American Bible.) John also quotes and paraphrases Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love. ‘The Bow’ refers to the Bow River, which runs through Calgary.