“Damn right, I don’t.”Mostly I didn’t like being analyzed so well.Blind as she was, Swansy saw right through me, and I didn’t like what she saw.“First Samantha, now you.What is it with you people?Do I tell you how to live your lives?”
“Yes, you do.You told me that I should have a dog.You said that if I had one, I’d be more independent.Think of it, independent, at my age.But you were right.I listened to you, and you were right.”
“Listen to me, hah.I had to make all the arrangements behind your back, then tell you that Rebecca had nowhere to go but here because she was allergic to smog.”
“And it worked.So what about you?Should I tell you that Peter Hathaway has an ulcer and needs a cure by the seaside?”
“An ulcer?”came a deep voice from the door.“That’s an interesting thought.Actually, I’d forego the ulcer and just take the cure by the seaside.It’s great out there, all woolly and wild.”
Attesting to that was his thoroughly tossed hair, his ruddy cheeks and his eyes, which held added life as they homed in on me.The collar of his jacket stood up against the back of his neck.He looked healthier than a man of forty had a right to look.And more virile.
I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
But Peter wasn’t done.He said to Swansy, “Why would you want to tell Jill that I had an ulcer?”
In the flash of an instant, I imagined what Swansy’s answer would be.I decided to beat her at her game.“So I’d take pity on you and take you in,” I said in a brassy tone.I rose from my chair and started toward him.“She thinks there’s something missing in my life.Not only should I take you in, she thinks, but she thinks that I should let you father my children.”I made a small sound of disgust.“Can you believe that?She hasn’t known you for more than twentyminutes and she’s got you and me having kids.”
I slipped past him, raising my voice as I returned to the kitchen.“You’re being abusybody,Swansy, and it’s not right.I know what I want and what I need, and I don’t need a husband any more than I need children.My life is full.”I grabbed my coat from the chair.“Very full.”I shoved my arms into the sleeves.“If I wanted kids, there are a dozen guys up here who would volunteer their services,” I started back toward the parlor, “and if I wanted a husband, I’d find my own.But I don’t want either.I’m doing fine.Just fine.”
Stalking past Peter, I went to Swansy’s rocker, put a hand on either arm and leaned low to kiss her cheek.“I do love you, though,” I whispered.“You’ll be okay?”
Swansy touched my cheek and nodded.
“Should I put dinner on the table?”
“I can do that myself,” she warbled, but didactically.“I can do it because I’ve accepted my weaknesses and moved on.I’m learning to do things I didn’t think I’d be able to do.I’ve grown.”
Her message couldn’t have been more blunt if she’d framed it in neon and stuck it in front of my nose.But I couldn’t get angry; I’d used up my allotment for the day.And this was Swansy.I loved her like—sometimes more than—my mother.She was there when I needed her, comforting me when I was blue, laughing with me when I was high.
So she’d spoken out of turn this time.She’d earned the right.
“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” I said, then straightened and passed Peter again on my way to the back door.I had no desire to wait while he said goodbye to Swansy.I didn’t want to hear any words that might be exchanged between them.I’d about had it with being the brunt of other people’s good intentions.I was very definitely on the offensive.
Dusk was approaching when I led Peter back down Main Street, then down the lane that led to the dock.“TheFree Reign,” I said, gesturing toward the sturdy trawler that bobbed by the rotting wood pier.She was secured both bow and stern by heavy ropes that I could only think of as manacles, and the way she tugged at them, while maintaining her pride and presence, reminded me of Cooper.
His house was next on our list of stops.It was conveniently situated at a midway point on the lane.Though smaller than the frame houses that corded Main Street, it was clearly well tended, in fine repair.I wanted Peter to see that.
With a single rap of the brass knocker, I opened the front door, which put me right into the small living room.Cooper was there, straddling a bench before the fire, creating a work of art with a piece of wood and a small knife.He was surrounded by shavings.I guessed that he’d been furiously working off his frustration sincehe’d left my house, but the boat he was carving didn’t seem to be suffering any from the frustration.It was still in its early stages, still nearly as much a log as a model boat, but there was a gracefulness to the part he’d carved that promised good things ahead.
I wanted Peter to see that, too.
Quietly I crossed to the fire.“Are you okay?”
Cooper’s dark eyes slid past me to Peter, then returned to mine.With a brief nod, he returned to his work.
“I was worried.”
“No need.”He chipped off a sliver of wood, chipped off a second, chipped off a third.
“I’m trying to give Peter a feel for the town.We’ve been to Swansy’s.I thought we’d stop off at Sam’s for dinner.Will you join us?”I wanted that more than anything.Having dinner alone with Peter came second only to spending the night alone in my house with him on a list of things I was dreading.
But Cooper wasn’t cooperating.“Not tonight, Jill.I’m not much in the mood.”
“Maybe it would help cheer you up,” I suggested, but even as I said it, I knew it wouldn’t.Cooper’s look made that clear.His sharing a table with the big-time lawyer from New York would be broadcasting his dilemma to the world.It didn’t matter that this world already knew his dilemma; the broadcasting would dig at him much as he dug at his log, chip after chip after chip.
“Is Benjie around?”I asked.Not only did I like the idea of his being with Cooper, but I wanted to introduce him to Peter.
But Cooper said, “He’s not back yet.”
