Chapter Sixteen #2
“These questions now are quite personal,” Detective Williams said. “Would you rather we went somewhere else?”
“No,” I said. “I’m ready here and now.”
“Oh. Fine,” she said, surprised at my firmness. “We know you began a relationship. Did it become intimate, and did that begin before your eighteenth birthday?”
“Yes, and no, not before my eighteenth birthday.”
“There were no sexual relations before you were eighteen?”
“Asked and answered,” Mr. Orseck said. “Dwelling on it won’t change the answer.”
“I can add something,” I said. Mr. Orseck looked concerned. “It was Kyle Wyman’s idea to wait for any intimacy until after I was eighteen.”
She looked very disappointed. “Many young women who have been abused protect their abuser, maybe hoping to continue the romance.”
“That,” I said, “is not me.”
“It’s best to talk it out,” she said.
“Do you want another language?” Mr. Orseck asked her.
“Pardon?”
“She gave you her answer in English, but you don’t seem to get it.”
She bristled and stood. “This is an intensive investigation. We may be back to speak with you again,” she said.
We watched them leave.
“Okay,” Mr. Orseck said. “Let’s go report to your grandfather.”
Grandfather was in his home office, having stayed here only because of this police interview; otherwise, he would have been at the company. Daddy always whined about not having a real home office, too. Grandfather wouldn’t let him redesign one of the bedrooms for that purpose.
“You don’t need to work from home,” Grandfather had told him. “You’re not my age.”
Daddy had grunted and mumbled under his breath as usual. He had glanced at me at the time. I think he was bothered by the fact that I had witnessed Grandfather denying him things and chastising him from time to time.
“Charles,” Mr. Orseck said now.
Grandfather turned his chair around to face us. He had been staring out of his window.
“All went well. She did excellently.”
“Knew she would,” Grandfather said.
“I doubt they’ll bother her again.”
“Okay, Gerald. Thank you.”
Mr. Orseck left. I stepped toward the desk.
“What is it, Grandfather? There’s something else. I can tell.”
“You could. Always. So could your mother. The publisher of the newspaper is a friend of mine. He told me the source of the story.”
I held my breath. It wasn’t simply Eddie Doyle.
“Which was?”
“Your aunt Frances,” he said. “I just got off the phone with her. I told her never to set foot on this property again and that I was ending all her financial aid. She has deliberately diminished the reputation of our family.”
“Why?”
He sighed deeply. I could see he was having a very bad physical reaction. He was taking short breaths, overheating, and probably having skyrocketing blood pressure.
“She’s always been a spiteful child. I never knew what she was going to do from one moment to the next. Your grandmother always believed in sympathizing with her and feeling sorry for her. You know the reason,” he said.
“What did she tell you in response? How did she defend what she has done?”
“What difference does it make? She is not a reliable advocate for this family. She’s gotten worse than ever, thinking only about herself. Don’t think about it anymore. This will blow over.”
I saw he didn’t want to spend another word on it, so I said it would all be fine and left him. But I couldn’t just forget about it. I arranged for Arthur to take me over to Bar Harbor. An hour later, I was at the pier.
I knew where Aunt Frances’s apartment was located.
I had been there only once before, to get something for Daddy.
It was a very simple two-bedroom apartment with furniture that looked as if it had been bought secondhand.
She did little to dress up her home. There were almost no pictures on the wall, certainly no pictures of our family anywhere.
For all intents and purposes, it could have been a motel on some back road.
The dreariness of it in a place like Bar Harbor had disturbed me.
I had never really wanted to return and hadn’t attempted to visit her ever.
She answered the door. She wore a drab yellow nightgown and looked like I had woken her by ringing the doorbell.
“What do you want?” she asked in her snappy, sharp tone.
“Answers,” I said, and walked past her and into her apartment.
She closed the door and turned to me, her arms folded.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Don’t try to deny it now. Grandfather is close friends with the newspaper publisher, and I know of his conversation with you.”
“I told you clearly not to have anything to do with that man. I saw what sort of man he was, but no one in this family ever listens to me. I might as well talk to the wind,” she said and walked into the kitchen, taking a defiant position near the counter.
“I have a right to live and learn from my own experiences,” I said.
“No. You don’t listen to me because you don’t have an iota of respect for me.
You’re just as arrogant as Melville, only you pretend you’re not.
You’ve been spoiled by my father. You think you’re some sort of princess on the hill with the Crest as your castle.
I was never treated anywhere near as royally as you’ve been.
My father resented me from the start. I could see it in the way he looked at me from when I was a child until now. Nothing’s changed.”
“That’s not what I was told. Your mother coddled you and made excuses for all the bad things you did.”
“Oh, is that what he tells you? He was never much of a father to me, and actually not to Melville, either. We just didn’t fit his picture,” she said. “Anything he did for me was half-hearted. Why do you think I worked at supporting myself and living away from the Baxters?”
“You’re not supporting yourself. He’s been helping you.”
“What, did he tell you every dollar he gave me? Has he been keeping the books? I’m sure he’s not doing that with you.”
“If you had shown more affection for him, maybe things would be different.”
“Affection? He took Melville places. Melville went on his boat. I was always left behind because women couldn’t do anything but be nurses, secretaries, or just wives.”
“That’s not the way he thinks,” I said.
“Maybe about you. I’ve been with him longer. The bottom line is, I might as well have been adopted and forgotten,” she said.
The reality that I knew took my breath away for a moment. She would surely explode when or if the truth ever came out, and especially if she found out I knew but she didn’t.
“But what you did hurts us all, even you. Why do such a thing?”
“Maybe now I’ll be listened to.”
“Now? Now you’re even more of an outsider than you thought you were. Grandfather wants nothing to do with you. I’m sure my father is beyond rage. He treasures the Baxter name more than anything else. If I were you, I’d work on some sort of an apology.”
“You’re not me. Go back to your castle and live like a princess,” she said, and turned her back on me.
I stood there for a long moment and then left. There was so much about her youth I did not know. I knew she had never had any real friends and had never had a boyfriend, but I couldn’t find the compassion to feel sorry for her.
I started back to the pier. Along the way, I saw the newspaper on the stands with the article about me on the front page.
I wondered if anyone looking at me connected me to the story.
What would I do? Would I become what Aunt Frances had said, a princess holing up in her castle?
I was afraid of the immediate future now on Birdlane and headed home with a heavy heart.
To my wonderful surprise, as we approached Birdlane Island pier, I saw Jamie waiting for me. He helped me off the boat and hugged me, holding on to me longer than usual.
“I’m okay, Jamie,” I said. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long. I know you will be fine; I just want you to know that I’ll always be here for you.”
“Thank you.”
“See your aunt?”
“How did you know?”
“I know you. You won’t ever back away from a confrontation when it comes to your family, especially your grandfather.”
I smiled. “Are you free?” I asked. “Let’s just go to the Crest and enjoy the rest of the day.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m free for that,” he said, and I hooked my arm to his and walked to his truck.
For a while, at least, I felt safe and even hopeful.
Was this enough to convince me it was love, a better love than I had imagined with Kyle?
Everything got so complicated, I thought, when you reached a certain age, especially what your deep feelings were and should be.
The future was always tottering, shifting.
When we arrived at the Crest, Anna told me Daddy had created another crisis, getting into a bad argument with one of our clients based in Bar Harbor.
It was beginning, I thought, the potential crumbling of all Grandfather had built, and there was no one really to blame but me. I walked off, Jamie beside me, to sit at the oak tree and try desperately not to cry.
Jamie simply sat beside me. Neither of us spoke. Then he slipped his hand into mine. I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort. Again I wondered if this wasn’t true love, something I should have realized and not risked losing. I had faith that time would tell.
We both turned sharply as the police chief’s car pulled up to the Crest.
“What now?”
We both stood and headed for the house.