Chapter 4 #4
He didn’t see her often, even when she came to Boston the next year. His lifestyle didn’t allow for a steady woman; his image didn’t allow for one from Timiny Cove. But from time to time he needed the rowdy passion she offered. As an outlet for sexual aggression, she was second to none.
She also happened to be the only person with whom he could talk.
Not that he said much; he was largely self-contained.
But he was human. Some things had to come out.
He might have been more guarded if Hillary had been from society, but she was from Timiny Cove.
She already knew his family. Nothing he said about them could change her opinion of him.
So he sounded off about his father. Although Eugene pretty much let him handle the office end of the business on his own, the times they were together were more difficult than ever.
John was learning the business well, noticing its strengths and weaknesses.
While it was a steady, profit-making venture, he saw potential for far more.
Eugene wasn’t interested. He was perfectly comfortable with the status quo and saw no need to take unnecessary risks.
John argued ad infinitum about the value of growth, but Eugene couldn’t see it.
He couldn’t see much of anything John’s way. He was too busy feeling pride in Pam.
John had no qualms about telling Hillary his opinion of Pam: “She’s a regular bitch.”
“Come on, John. She’s only twelve.”
“Try telling her that. She’s spoiled as sin, and no wonder, the way he dotes. You’d think there was something special about her, but if there is, I can’t, see it. She isn’t a genius. And she’s not gorgeous.”
“She’s cute.”
“She smiles a lot. That’s all.”
“Not at you. She’s very careful with you.”
“She knows I’m no fool. She can’t wrap me around her finger the way she does him.”
“I think you’re jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Their relationship.”
But he didn’t believe that. He’d go farther in life than either one of them. “Try again, Hillary.”
“I think it’s nice that they’re close, she and her father. I wish I had half that closeness with mine.”
“If you did, you wouldn’t be as independent as you are. That’s what I like about you. You think for yourself. You don’t cling. You have your own life, and you let me lead mine.”
"Am I supposed to be happier that way?”
“Definitely. Look at Patricia. She’s just the opposite, and she’s miserable.”
“Is she jealous of the relationship between Pam and Eugene?”
“Not quite. She’s relieved they’re close. It takes the burden off her. She has a lot on her mind.”
That was a whole other story, one that John chose not to relate to Hillary.
In her own way, Patricia was bothering him even more than Pam and Eugene.
From the start their relationship had been awkward.
Their closeness in age, John’s antagonism toward her, and her resultant deference all led to tension.
For years they walked carefully around each other.
Then John joined the business, and it was as though Patricia had suddenly found a friend.
The business concerned her. She wanted to know how it was doing and where it was headed.
Not only was Eugene spending more and more of his time in Timiny Cove, but when he was in Boston he had less and less patience for her questions.
John could understand why she turned to him.
He knew what was going on in the company, could give her the answers she wanted, and he was available.
He also came to understand that there was a power to be had in possessing and sharing information, particularly when the power had to do with Patricia and Eugene.
So he indulged Patricia her questions, and the more he did, the more she asked.
Increasingly, he found her waiting for him to come home, upset by something Eugene had said or done, desperate for reassurance.
He gave her that, and if it meant speaking out against Eugene, he did so.
Surprisingly often, Patricia was on John’s side, particularly on the matter of expansion.
She too wanted Eugene to broaden his base, but he wouldn’t listen to her either.
Frustrated and upset, she argued with him, which promptly sent him running back to Maine, frustrating and upsetting her all the more.
And John was there.
It was totally spontaneous the first time, on a dark and rainy Friday night shortly after Eugene and she had argued.
Eugene had swept Pam off in the car to spend the weekend in Maine, leaving Patricia behind to stew alone.
Coming in from work, John had found her distraught.
Gentleman that he was, when she slipped her arms around his waist and began to cry, he comforted her.
Then, in the course of the comforting, something happened.
His hands began to move over a body that was soft and lovely.
His mouth touched hers once, then again and again.
His body responded in the only way that an active twenty-eight-year-old man with a healthy appreciation of women could respond.
While the climax he reached that night wasn’t as sweet as some he’d had or as fiery as others, it was unique. It satisfied the dark cravings of his mind, gave him the perverse pleasure of cuckolding his father.