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“It’s late, and I’m tired and hungry, and—Hold on, now. Just what do you think you’re doing?”
Cutter had opened the refrigerator door and was pulling everything edible he could find out of it. He stopped when she positioned her body between him and the counter. The look on her face was steely. “You said you were hungry,” he said sheepishly. “I thought I’d fix you something.” His eyes rested on a plate of leftover meatloaf that he had already put on the counter. With one final lunge, he grabbed the whole wheat and the small jar of mayo, then closed the refrigerator. Without a word, he squeezed by her rigid body and began making two meatloaf sandwiches.
“I can’t eat two,” Gloria finally said, over his shoulder.
“The second one’s for me. I figured you’d be more relaxed if I ate with you.”
“This is silly. Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind and be done with it?”
He took her by the arm, then gently pushed her down onto one of the kitchen chairs. “A serious discussion should not be attempted on an empty stomach.” He noticed that at the word serious Gloria tensed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell you again that I love you. But I’m not going to apologize for falling in love with you, either. You’ll have to work through it, just as I will. And anytime you want to talk about it, you can.” He thought he saw Gloria grit her teeth.
“I don’t want to talk about it. But you sure did make things more awkward, and just when we were …”
“We were what?” Cutter rummaged through the cabinets until he found where she kept the plates. “Becoming friends?” He placed each cut sandwich on a plate, then grabbed some napkins, carried everything to the table, and sat down. “We were becoming friends, right?”
Gloria nodded.
“Good. It’s a start. The rest … well, we’ll get over that. You and me. Then it’ll be more comfortable. Though I’m not the least bit uncomfortable.” He took a big bite of his sandwich, then jumped up and poured them both a glass of milk. “But I can see that you are. Uncomfortable, I mean.”
“No, I’m not. I’m fine with it. It just took me by surprise, that’s all. But I’m fine with it.”
Cutter placed the milk glasses on the table and sat back down. “You’re uncomfortable.”
“No, I’m … uncomfortable.”
They both laughed.
“Okay. Now that we’ve cleared the air, there is something I need to talk to you about.” Cutter shoved the last of his sandwich into his mouth, then washed it down with a big gulp of milk, all the while watching Gloria and feeling pleased that she wasn’t looking at him with that pained expression anymore. “Did you see Virginia tonight?” He could see he had taken her by surprise. And he could see something else. The pained look was back.
“Yes,” she said, taking the first bite of her sandwich.
Then, without knowing why, Cutter reached over and covered Gloria’s hands, sandwich and all. “Virginia would never stay away from her precious Medical Data this long, not even to punish me, unless something was wrong. And I need to know what it is.”
“Then why don’t you ask her?”
“Because I’d rather ask you.”
“Well, don’t!” Gloria turned away.
“Why not?” He grabbed her chin and gently turned her face toward his, forcing her to look at him. “Gloria, I’m asking you, what’s wrong with my mother?”
“I … promised I wouldn’t tell.”
“Then there is something wrong.” He released her chin.
“Oh, Cutter, you know in your heart there is. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Okay, how sick is she?” When Gloria absently poked her sandwich, his neck muscles tightened. It had been haunting him all week—this thought that something was wrong. But he had managed to push it out of his mind by making light of it. By telling himself Virginia was too ornery to die. Too cheap to go off to the netherworld and leave him a multimillion-dollar business. A business she couldn’t control.
Cutter leaned over as far as he could. It was important he catch every detail of Gloria’s expression when he asked the next question, because her face would tell him what he needed to know. “Is Virginia dying?”
Gloria’s lips pinched, and there was a catch in her throat as she tried to swallow. Her eyes wandered past him, refusing to look his way, and her tense shoulders arched backward as though trying to ease the strain.
Without another word, Cutter rose from his chair and walked out the door.
It took only a second for Gloria to realize she couldn’t let Cutter walk out alone. Not with the knowledge he was taking with him. She grabbed her keys, locked the door—and she wouldn’t have bothered to do that except she remembered the stalker—then ran down the gravel driveway. She saw Cutter walk under the streetlight, toward his Saab parked in front of Sam Hidel’s deserted store. She was able to reach him before he unlocked the car.
“Let’s walk,” she said, pulling on his arm and leading him back to the sidewalk. He offered little resistance, as though he were sleepwalking. Without a word, she slipped her arm through his and first led, then walked quietly beside him.
They crossed Millhouse Street, then passed Kelly’s Hardware, Dooley & Dooley—the husband-and-wife dental practice—then Regis Clock Company. They crossed over Larkspur, where a row of old Victorians stood guard over a lovely brass street lamp that was different from all the rest. It wasn’t until they were in front of Atlantic Electric that Cutter broke the silence.
“I don’t know why I should be surprised. Why I should expect Virginia to end her life any differently than she lived it. But I am. I guess I thought that when it came right down to it, when the end came, Virginia would finally show some motherly instincts. Would at least let her son know she was dying. Would at least not make me learn it through a third party. Does the whole town know? Does everyone know but me?”
Gloria let her arm drop, then slipped her hand into his. “I think only Dr. Grant and Agnes know.” She felt his hand tighten around hers and marveled how different his hands were from Virginia’s. Cutter’s were big and bulky, with knuckles the size of lug nuts. Virginia’s were small, birdlike, and veiny. Yet of the two, Virginia had always wielded the heavier blow. “I don’t think she knew how to tell you.”
“She didn’t want to tell me. Even to the end, she wanted to punish and humiliate me.”
“She’s frightened, Cutter.”
Cutter snorted with caustic laughter. “The only thing the great Virginia Press is afraid of is losing control.”
Gloria thought of Virginia’s agonizing resistance earlier, and now of Cutter’s open honesty. Virginia seemed so afraid to let down her guard and reveal her vulnerability, while Cutter seemed willing enough to reveal his. At least, this new Cutter was. “Maybe in some ways you’re stronger than your mother. Bear that in mind when you deal with her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you want to make peace, then it’ll be up to you.” Now she felt Cutter’s resistance. It was as powerful and piercing as an electric shock. “Go see her, Cutter, before it’s too late.”
“Well, well, well. Now, isn’t this a pretty sight.”
Gloria turned toward the sound of the voice and saw Tracy standing near the corner of Main and Brandise, only feet away from the entrance to Hoolahan’s Pub. The way she staggered suggested she had just come from the bar.
“Oh … hi, Tracy.” Gloria followed Tracy’s gaze to the hand that was entwined with Cutter’s and self-consciously let go.
“You sure are full of surprises.” Tracy sauntered closer in her tight miniskirt that was only inches shy of being pornographic. “Never expected to see you two an item.”
“We’re not—” Gloria stopped. There was no way to explain this without embarrassing Cutter. “You’re a bit of a surprise yourself.” Gloria tried not to gawk at Tracy’s outfit. It was worse than anything Sadie Bellows would wear. If Gloria didn’t know better, she�
��d have taken Tracy for one of the hookers she’d seen in Eckerd City. “I didn’t expect to see you in town. I thought you’d be working.”
Tracy flipped a mass of red hair over her shoulder. “My night off.”
“Aha. Well … how’s everything?” Gloria noticed that Cutter had inched away and was already in front of Cameras & More, which butted the left side of Hoolahan’s.
“The tips are good, but the pay’s lousy. And you wouldn’t believe the jerks that come into the place. Some of the customers figure since I’m behind the bar they have a captive audience and can tell me their life story. Like I’m supposed to care? Then if I am polite and try to listen, they think I might be interested in other things too.” Tracy had difficulty standing straight.
Gloria glanced to the side and saw that Cutter was moving farther and farther away. “Maybe we could meet for lunch one day this week and catch up?”
“Well … I don’t know. Things are a little tight with those credit card bills, and—”
“It’s my treat. C’mon, Tracy. What do you say?”
Tracy shrugged. “I guess it could work out.” Then she tossed her head, making her red hair fly in all directions, and laughed as she caught sight of Nick Cervantes exiting Hoolahan’s.
“There you are, Babe,” Nick said, coming up behind Tracy and putting his arms around her slim waist. He eyed Gloria with suspicion. “What’s the frog doing here?”
Tracy slumped against Nick’s lean chest as he kissed her neck. “I don’t have a clue.” She narrowed her eyes, then said to Gloria in a near-whisper, “I can’t believe you’re going out with the Monkey. You sure turned out to be a surprise.”
Gloria thought she could say the same as she studied Tracy reeling unsteadily on her feet, her hair disheveled, her skirt so tight it left no room for mystery, her spandex top looking like a Band-Aid across her chest and barely covering her breasts, and Nick Cervantes, the drug dealer, pawing at her. But she didn’t. She only wished she could take Tracy in her arms and tell her how much Jesus loved her.
“Hey! Wait up.” Gloria trotted along the sidewalk past Cameras & More, past Pearl Owens’s Today’s Woman clothing store and the Bake Shoppe, until finally she caught up with Cutter in front of Rosie’s Beauty Parlor. He had stopped and turned at the sound of her voice and was waiting, a glum expression on his face.
“I suppose you’re going to blame me for that, now.” His voice was surly.
“Blame you for what?”
“I haven’t seen Tracy since …”
“Since you fired her?”
“I heard she wasn’t doing well, but I never expected to see her like that.”
“You could have been kinder. You could have kept her on. She was your top telemarketer.”
“I knew you were going to blame me.”
“I’m not blaming you.” Cutter seemed to relax and threaded his arm through hers. The act was so natural it took Gloria a second to notice. “Only … sometimes I don’t understand you.”
“A man in love tends to do stupid things.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore.”
“You brought it up.”
“I didn’t—”
“You wanna know why I came back to Appleton after NYU? Why I came back to work at a job I hated, to a town I wanted to get as far away from as possible, to a mother who still can make my insides twist and turn? It was because of you, Gloria. Only because of you.”
“Cutter, please …”
“I just want to set the record straight. I just want you to understand why I took what Tracy did so hard. After coming back and putting up with all this stuff in Appleton, biding my time, waiting patiently, Tracy turns around and gets you out of town. I was beyond frustrated.”
Gloria wished she hadn’t allowed Cutter to hold her by the arm. She felt the need to put some distance between them but didn’t know how without being rude. His arm was too tightly entwined with hers. But the memory of his proposal—the humiliation of it—was still too vivid. That day in his office, over a year ago, he had treated her like a hired servant. Had humiliated and embarrassed her. And now … his words didn’t line up. Did he really expect her to believe he had made that proposal out of love? And yet, somehow … it was even more difficult to believe that Cutter was lying now. “You said your proposal was a business deal.”
“Well, what did you expect? I knew you hated me. If I just came out and said I loved you, you would have laughed in my face. But I was getting desperate, tired of waiting. It seemed like we were never going to get anywhere. When my mother insisted I get married, I saw my chance.”
“But all those women you brought to her? Sadie Bellows and the rest …”
Cutter laughed. “I knew Virginia would never accept them. And I didn’t want her to. It was always you, Gloria. I’ve loved you since before I kissed you in Clive McGreedy’s barn. Only you could never see it.”
“But you were always so … mean.”
“Don’t you know that young boys tease girls they like? Or pull their pigtails or pelt them with mud balls?”
“Or call them frog?”
Cutter stopped, bringing Gloria to a stop also. “You could never see beyond your nose, Gloria. You could never see anyone for what he really was.” In the lamplight Gloria saw an expression on Cutter’s face so tender it embarrassed her, and she looked away.
“C’mon.” Cutter tugged on Gloria’s arm. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you back.” They turned around on the sidewalk and headed for Sam Hidel’s. “Thanks for coming after me. Hearing about Virginia was … well, it was like when you punched me in the eye that time. I should have seen it coming but didn’t, and boy, did it hurt.”
Gloria slipped her hand into his. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“For what? Punching me in the eye?”
“No. For Virginia.”
Cutter gave her hand a squeeze; then they walked quietly for some time.
“I saw Harry Grizwald last weekend and told him about the stalker and Tiger and the note.” She deliberately avoided telling Cutter that the stalker had followed her to Eckerd. “Both he and I agree we want to continue the flyers.” They passed Hoolahan’s, with no sign of Tracy or Nick Cervantes. “I have some stuff for another article and plan to work it up this week.”
“Really?” Gloria could feel rather than see Cutter’s smile. “I’m glad. But now I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. What about you getting Clive’s car for me? Then setting up such easy payments, even Tracy could make them?”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it didn’t take courage. Just money. Your decision to continue with the flyers took courage. So I owe you.”
“I see. You want to do something for me that takes courage?”
“I guess. If you put it that way.”
“Okay, then make peace with Virginia.”
Chapter Thirteen
“ARE YOU AND CUTTER BACK together again?” Geri Bickford asked, directing her voice toward the small slotted speaker of her phone. It left her hands free, and she sat on the cushioned wooden stool in her kitchen giving herself a manicure. It had been a long time since she’d felt like doing her nails. But she couldn’t believe how elated she was—like someone had just told her she was on her way to the Miss America pageant all over again. Maybe Gloria was developing some sense after all. “So, are you and Cutter back together again?” she repeated.
“We were never together.”
Gloria’s reply made Geri smear Cranberry Wine all over her thumb. “What do you mean? Someone saw the two of you walking down Main Street, holding hands.” She heard Gloria make a peevish noise that sounded like tsssss. Why did she act like that? Like it wasn’t important? And why couldn’t this rumor about Gloria and Cutter be true? It would be nice seeing her daughter set up in a home with a husband. Especially a husband as well off as Cutter Press. Then maybe, just maybe, Geri could stop
worrying. “The whole town’s talking about it. Pearl Owens said the buzz is just everywhere.” Again the peevish sound. “Now, why are you getting annoyed?”
“Because I hate it when people jump to conclusions. Someone saw Cutter and me—”
“Then you were with Cutter last night?”
“Yes, and—”
“And the two of you were holding hands?”
“Yes, but—”
“If you two were out on a date and holding hands, then for heaven’s sake, why are you trying to deny it?”
“We weren’t out on a date, Mother.”
“Well, call it what you want,” Geri returned, refusing to let her daughter’s sullen manner get the best of her. “But I’m glad you’ve started seeing each other again.” The next thing Geri heard was the sound of a click coming through the speaker, and she knew that Gloria had hung up. Now, what had she said that was so wrong? Couldn’t a mother ask a simple question anymore? She didn’t think she’d ever understand that daughter of hers.
Just as Gloria hung up, she saw Wanda bounce toward her, her teased, bleached hair looking like a squirrel’s nest. Without a word, Gloria pulled the top page off her pile, the one Wanda had asked her about at least five times since she came in that morning. It was a PO from Charlie Axlerod.
“It says here he won’t be coming in for the proof till noon,” Gloria said, hoping to head Wanda off at the pass. But it didn’t work.
“It also says it’s an emergency—a high-priority job.” Wanda planted her chubby hands on her hips, looking all too much like a female wrestler. “You got it ready?”
Gloria shook her head, thinking Wanda looked mad enough to pin her on the floor in a scissor lock. She wished Charlie Axlerod, in this, the final week of the Apple Festival, hadn’t come up with this brilliant idea, or at least what he thought was a brilliant idea. He had decided he wanted the town of Appleton drawn as a game board, and every time a tourist shopped in a store and bought something, he moved along the board, as it were, and collected a token—a red paper circle with the name of that store neatly printed in the center. The person with the most red circles won a free night, plus dinner and breakfast the next morning, at Charlie’s Bed-and-Breakfast. He had already gotten his secretary to cut out a zillion red construction-paper circles and pass them along to all the store owners. Now it remained for Gloria to create the game board listing all the stores, and for Paul Lugget to print it up.