Chapter 16 #2
“But we thought she was double that twenty years ago!” He eyed her with the utmost admiration. “So you went to the pack rat’s midden.”
Hillary’s smile tilted. Arlan was reacting just as the people of Timiny Cove would have done if they’d known she had visited Bumble.
“The pack rat’s midden,” she enlightened him, “is actually a small house on the far side of the woods from Cutter’s place. I wouldn’t exactly call it a dung heap. It is quite well equipped.”
“You mean, she has Teflon-coated cauldrons?”
“I mean, she has a modern stove and refrigerator, a microwave oven, a television with a small satellite dish, plus a VCR and an extensive collection of films. Seems she’s a sucker for situation comedy. Three’s a Crowd, Who’s the Boss, Cheers—you name it, she has taped collections.”
“Where did she get them?”
“Cutter. He’s been sending her stuff for years.”
“The microwave and the stove, too?”
Hillary nodded.
“In gratitude for nursing him?”
She nodded again and turned her face to the breeze. It lifted the hair off her neck, offering pleasant relief from the warmth of the sun, and the tension of her thoughts.
“And you? Did you take Cutter in for old times’ sake?”
“And for Pam’s sake. I knew she liked him. I also—” She hesitated, feeling guilty.
“You also what?”
She sighed. “I had mixed enough feelings for John to take Cutter in out of defiance. I knew that John had given him trouble over the years. Somehow it seemed right that I give him his start in the big city. Not that I dreamed he’d actually make it.
He seemed harmless. I knew that he had worked hard at the mine, but there was no correlation between mining and anything in New York.
It never occurred to me that he would pose any kind of threat to John. ”
“Does he? Have I missed something here?”
Hillary wasn’t sure. Since she’d seen Cutter the week before, there had been times when she wondered how on top of things she really was. “He’s become a somebody, all right. He knew the movers and shakers at that reception last week, and they knew him.”
“Does that make him a threat to John?”
“Not per se.” She was trying to figure out her unease. “But back then he had so much anger. He said there were two things pushing him when he left Timiny Cove—getting Pam, and getting back at John. He doesn’t have either yet, but I can’t believe he’s given up. Especially now that I know … this.”
She felt Arlan watching her closely. Seeking to escape his scrutiny, she rose and began walking again. It wasn’t long before he was beside her.
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it bothers me. I hate violence.”
“It’s great for the book.”
That was true. Whether it was great for her peace of mind was something else.
“Hillary?”
She continued walking.
“Talk to me, Hillary.”
“About what?”
“About whether you’re getting cold feet. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
“No.” But she knew she sounded hesitant. She also knew that if she didn’t offer an explanation, he’d hound her forever. “I just didn’t expect to start unearthing surprises. Like this business about the beating.”
“And the will. Don’t forget the bequest that was never bequeathed.”
She couldn’t. It ate at her.
“Pretty eye-opening,” Arlan remarked, chewing on his straw. “The guy really is a bastard.”
“He has his strong points.”
“But they aren’t what will make your story.”
“I know,” she said softly.
Arlan stepped directly in front of her, forcing her to a stop. “The contract is in the works, Hillie. We’ve agreed on the terms. You’re on the schedule for next July. Don’t fink out on me now.”
“I won’t. I’m writing the story.”
“Including the good parts?”
“Of course.”
“Even though you love the guy?”
“I don’t love him,” she muttered and looked away. “He’s getting married next month.”
Arlan leaned close. “But he doesn’t love her.”
Her eyes flew to his. “Does it matter? Since when do people marry for love? Since when is love enough to sustain a relationship? Things don’t work that way, Arlan.
Love is a frivolous concept. It’s something we entertain when we’re too young to know better.
It doesn’t have much of a role in the real-life scheme of things. ”
“Would Cutter agree with that?”
“Probably.”
“Has he stopped loving Pam?”
“No, but she’s married to someone else, and he’s alone.”
“Has he given up on her? She was the other half of what he swore he’d get when he left Timiny Cove. Seventeen years have gone by since then. Has he conceded defeat?”
Of course not, Hillary thought, but she didn’t say it.
She couldn’t believe that Cutter had conceded defeat where Pam was concerned—any more than she could believe that he was done with John.
Maybe she didn’t want to believe it. Maybe it was the old-fashioned part of her that wanted love to win out and justice to prevail.
And yet, Cutter had seemed satisfied. But was he so content because he anticipated greater satisfaction?
Cutter had had the look of a man expecting vindication.
Or had she been imagining it?
She’d have to ask Pam.