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  “Why? You planning to pay it?”

  Gloria nodded.

  “Well, now, I thought your mother would be taking care of that.” Sam tilted his head backward as though waiting for an explanation. He looked disappointed when Gloria didn’t give one.

  “How much does she owe?” Gloria repeated.

  “Well, now. Let’s see. I got it right here.” Sam pulled out a green metal box from under the counter and opened it. It was full of alphabetized index cards. He flipped to the Qs, then pulled out a card that had figures scrawled over the front and back. Sam squinted at the last notation. “$726.31.” He smacked his lips. “Never should have let her run it up that high. Just didn’t have the heart to turn her down.”

  Gloria pulled an Appleton Savings Bank envelope from her purse. It contained ten one-hundred-dollar bills, the money she had withdrawn from her savings during lunch. She opened the envelope, counted out eight bills, and placed them on the counter in front of Sam. “Please let me know every time she puts anything on account, and I’ll give you the money.”

  “You mean you still want me to let her charge? Even all that flour and sugar and stuff?”

  Gloria nodded.

  “Well, now.” Sam scratched the top of his head. “Guess you don’t have the heart to turn her down either.”

  Cutter Press couldn’t believe he was standing in front of Gloria’s apartment and actually knocking on her door. Would she think he was a loser? Too late now. The lock snapped, then the door opened, and Gloria stood in front of him in her bare feet and sweats, looking so pretty he wanted to gulp but didn’t. And that expression on her face … just like the time he’d trapped her in Clive McGreedy’s barn—no, not quite—not as panic-stricken, but it was obvious she was more than surprised to see him.

  “Ah … I was in the neighborhood … and there are a couple of things I wanted to tell you … Mind if I come in?” He was about to push past her, then held himself in check. No. He’d wait to be asked, and if she didn’t invite him in, then he’d know she thought he really was a loser.

  “Sure …” Gloria opened the door wider, surprise still on her face. “Come in. Excuse the mess. I just got home and—”

  “Gloria, you don’t need to apologize. Not to me.” Cutter bit the inside of his lip as he walked past her. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

  She pointed to a pale blue plaid couch with floral throw pillows. “Have a seat. I’ll make us some coffee. I only have decaf … and it’s instant. That okay?”

  Cutter nodded and sat down, then watched her traipse off into the kitchen. He could hear her opening cabinets, then the sound of clanking pots and the subtler sound of mugs knocking together. He studied the apartment. It was a fraction of the size of his place, but even at a glance he preferred it over his, with its cozy stuffed couch and chair and small TV tucked in the corner. Plants and pictures filled the rest of the space.

  Cutter had heard that Gloria had furnished her entire apartment from the thrift store on Brandise, but somehow she had managed to make the apartment look anything but bargain-basement. He had always thought her hardworking and resourceful, so he wasn’t surprised. He tried to find the mess she spoke of and saw only a folded newspaper on the pine coffee table and a pair of sneakers near the stuffed chair. On the end table was an empty glass, a small plate, and a tuft of hair that must belong to the cat he had seen scoot under the couch when he came in. Hardly a mess. But he could see how, after living with compulsively neat Geri Bickford, Gloria would exaggerate this minor clutter.

  Strange how he felt comfortable here. And not nearly as nervous as he thought he’d be.

  “You still take cream and sugar?” Gloria said, poking her head out of the kitchen. Cutter nodded.

  “I see you have a cat,” he shouted, wanting to fill the silence. “Didn’t see any broken legs, though.” He was referring to Gloria’s proclivity for taking in wounded animals. It was one of the many things he liked about her.

  “No, Tiger’s a fine, healthy cat.” Gloria entered the room carrying a tray, then set it down on the coffee table. The sugar bowl and creamer and jar of instant coffee were full; the two mugs were empty. “But you didn’t come about my cat.” She stood looking down at him as though waiting for his explanation, but she didn’t seem annoyed or in any hurry.

  “I hired a private detective to check out our Santa Claus character,” he said. “And if something turns up, maybe even Eric Slone.”

  “I thought you were through with all that. I thought you said he was just a crackpot and you didn’t want to get involved.”

  “Well, maybe I was wrong.”

  “Cutter Press wrong?”

  “Yeah, hard to believe.” Cutter watched Gloria settle into the recliner, watched her swing her bare feet under her and wiggle her bottom until she got comfortable, just like she used to do when she was a little girl. “Can’t be right about everything.” He was relieved when he heard that light, lilting laughter of hers. This was easier than he’d expected.

  “So what will you do if your detective turns up something? Are you really prepared to take on Eric Slone?”

  Now Cutter laughed. “One thing at a time, Gloria.”

  She shrugged, gave him a smile that made perspiration bead around his neck, then rose from her chair at the kettle’s whistle and headed for the kitchen.

  “You hear about Clive McGreedy?” he asked in a loud voice.

  “Yes, the whole town’s talking about it.” Gloria reappeared, holding a steaming kettle in one hand. “I hate the thought of that old farm going. I would miss it, and Clive too, of course.” She filled his mug, then hers.

  “I didn’t think you were that attached. I thought you hated the place since that’s where I … embarrassed you.”

  Gloria placed the kettle on the tray, her mouth tightening. “We’ve never talked about that.”

  “No. You want to now?”

  “I don’t know. It was so long ago and …”

  “For whatever it’s worth, I know I acted like a jerk. And I was wrong. I embarrassed you and made you feel small.” He could see he had touched a nerve. Red blotches marred her cheeks like rosacea.

  “I don’t think you understand just how … just how small you did make me feel. Kissing me like that in front of everyone as if it was a personal challenge to change the frog into a princess.”

  “Boys can be stupid, Gloria. And thoughtless.” She sat down, but didn’t look comfortable. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.” He heard her gasp.

  “Then why, for heaven’s sake, did you do it?”

  “To show off. I was just showing off. I guess I wanted to impress—”

  “Your devoted followers?”

  “Yeah. And you.” Cutter could see he had said something very wrong. Maybe he was moving too fast. Trying to heal the relationship between them too quickly. Or maybe he was just a bonehead and Gloria was never going to come around. Would never forgive him for his past stupidity. “I wanted to impress you,” he repeated against his will.

  Gloria’s eyes looked like Oreos, then lemon wedges as she squinted at him. “You think it impresses a girl when you insult her by calling her a frog?”

  Cutter waved his hand impatiently in the air. “You really think I meant that?” He could see by the tears welling up in her eyes that she had. He really was a bonehead. Guys called each other names all the time. It had never occurred to him that a girl would be sensitive about a thing like that. He put his hand back on his lap and just stared at Gloria, at her lovely eyes and fine, strong chin that gave her face character, at her shiny hair that made her look so attractive it caused him to perspire, at her mouth that could form a sunny smile so wonderful it would make any man forget his worst day. “That was just talk, Gloria. I never, never thought you were a frog.”

  It had been a long time since Gloria had wept on her pillow, but after Cutter Press left, she had herself a good cry. And then she felt better than she had felt since returning to Appleton
.

  Chapter Seven

  GLORIA FOLLOWED AGNES KELLER down a dingy hallway, then up the narrow stairs that creaked and groaned with age. All the visible curtains were drawn, and the lack of light and fresh air made the house look and smell like an old museum. She really didn’t want to come, but Jesus had overruled her. On top of that, there was Cutter’s offhanded apology, which, for some reason, made her feel obligated. So here she was.

  About to enter the den of the Dragon Lady.

  Agnes ushered her into a large room, cavelike and dark with all that heavy furniture and no visible light, then closed the door. It took a while for Gloria’s eyes to distinguish the shape on the bed as being that of Virginia Press.

  “Come closer,” said a thin, dry voice.

  Gloria opened the door Agnes had just closed, and chided herself. Virginia Press was a sickly, diminutive woman. What did Gloria have to fear? Still, she crept only as far as the middle of the room, and stopped.

  “Agnes told me you were coming. In forty years I’ve never heard Agnes tell a joke, so I knew it was true. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Maybe it was Virginia’s words or the sight of her, so small and pathetic, that dispelled the foreboding Gloria had, but something broke it, and she walked over to the bed. “Nothing’s changed. This room is still how I remember it.” She heard a soft chuckle that sounded almost like a cough.

  “What were you? Ten, the last time?”

  Gloria nodded. “Yes,” she said when she realized that in the poor light, Virginia probably hadn’t seen the nod.

  “Cutter paid dearly for that. Putting you up to such a thing.”

  “I was as much to blame. He dared me, and I took him up on it. But I didn’t have to.” Gloria thought it strange that they should be having this conversation. Surely Virginia Press hadn’t asked to see her just to rehash a past misadventure? Although, lately, the Presses seemed to be going in for that sort of thing.

  “What was it again? You were to steal my perfume—”

  “No,” Gloria said, looking down on the frail woman. “I was merely to bring it to Cutter to prove I had gone to your room all by myself.”

  “And then you broke it. It took Agnes months to get that smell out of the hardwood floor and to glue that bottle together. She swore it shattered into a million pieces. It was very expensive crystal … a gift from Cutter’s father. So I insisted. Of course, it was unusable after that … but I kept it just the same … don’t know why exactly. I’m not really sentimental.”

  “It all seems so silly now. That stunt got me grounded for a month. But honestly, I never expected to see you coming up those stairs as I came down.”

  “Yes … I suppose for a child of ten it would be scary seeing the Dragon Lady heading her way.”

  “How did—?”

  “I know that Cutter and his friends called me Dragon Lady?” Virginia rose on one spindly elbow. “Oh, child, there wasn’t anything Cutter did or said that escaped me.” She fell back against the great scrolled mahogany headboard that must have taken a skilled craftsman months to carve. Gloria found herself fluffing pillows and helping Virginia rise to a sitting position. “Cutter was always thinking up mean names for people. But you already know that, don’t you?”

  Gloria picked up the frosted pitcher from the nightstand and poured fresh ice water into Virginia’s empty glass.

  “I know how thoughtless he can be, but I suppose all the psychiatrists in the world would say that’s my fault. And they would be right. I always had too many brains and not enough heart. I’ve always tried to roll and stretch Cutter, like dough, into a more acceptable shape. And I haven’t been too gentle about it either. But you already know that too, don’t you?”

  Gloria handed Virginia the water and wondered what was going on, then realized Jesus already knew and, in due time, would let her in on it too.

  “And now that shape is someone I don’t like and someone who doesn’t like me.”

  “Mrs. Press, I don’t think—”

  “You’re going to have to start calling me Virginia, or we’re not going to get very far.”

  “I … don’t think I can. In the first place, I’m not used to it. And in the second place, Mother would have a fit if she found out. Then, for months, I’d have to listen to her go on about how important it is to respect your elders.”

  Virginia chuckled. “Yes, Geri was always one for appearances. But that needn’t concern us. I really want you to call me Virginia. Please. Chalk it up to the foible of an old lady. Nobody needs to know. It’ll be our little secret. What do you say?” She held out her hand as though asking Gloria to seal their secret pact with a shake.

  Gloria took it, thinking how much like a dried leaf it felt and fearing it would crumble at the slightest pressure. So she just held it, as though it were something precious, all the while noting how thin Virginia’s wrist and arm were. “Okay … Virginia.”

  The elderly woman smiled and seemed inordinately pleased. “I know you’re wondering why I wanted to see you. It’s about Cutter.”

  Gloria released Virginia’s hand. “That’s a dead horse. Let’s not beat it anymore. Cutter and I are simply not going to get married. We have no interest in each other. As a matter of fact, we hardly get along. So no amount of coercion’s going to work; it’s just going to—” Gloria stopped when she heard a faint chuckle.

  “No. I’ve already coerced myself out of a son … and a daughter-in-law. I don’t want to force anything on anyone anymore.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I want you to come and see me once in a while. Let me talk to you about Cutter and—”

  “Virginia.”

  “No, not about marrying him. Nothing like that.” “Okay, then why?”

  “Because I want you to understand him. I want you to understand why he’s the way he is, and maybe in the process understand me a little too.”

  “Virginia, I don’t see what purpose that will serve. And to be honest, I have little interest in understanding why Cutter does anything.”

  “You’ve always had a kind heart. Oh, yes, I heard all about that bird you tried to save, and Clive McGreedy’s kittens, and so many other things that made me know you. And in the coming months, Cutter’s going to need a friend with a tender heart. One that can help him wade through all the issues he’s got stacked up in his head like magazines.” Virginia laughed. “He’s got a thirty-year subscription to Life stored in that brain of his, all piled up and needing to be read.” When her laughter turned into a cough, Virginia covered her mouth until it passed. “A lifetime subscription, Gloria,” she finally said, “and he needs a friend to help him come to terms with those issues. You two have a lot more in common than you think. And I know my son well enough to say this—you are the best possible person for the job.”

  “I’m not a psychiatrist, Virginia. If Cutter needs therapy, you’ve got to get him professional help.”

  Virginia’s frail-looking hand gripped Gloria’s wrist like steel pincers. “He doesn’t need a psychiatrist, child. He needs a friend. You may not believe this, but even though I don’t like my son, I do love him. In my own way, I do love him. And I worry about him. I worry about him having no one when I’m gone. And quite honestly, I could use a friend myself. Because I don’t mind telling you, I’m a little unnerved by all this. Geri won’t be much help. She doesn’t have the courage for it. But you—someone who can steal perfume out of the Dragon Lady’s room—someone who can leave Appleton just like that—someone who can buck probably the two pushiest, meanest females in town, now that’s someone I’d like to have in my corner.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Virginia, what are you talking about?”

  Virginia released Gloria and slumped back against her pillows. “I’m dying. Dr. Grant says I’ve got less than six months, more like three.” She closed her eyes. Her eyelids looked purple in the dim light, and puffy, and when she opened them again, Gloria saw the fear. Suddenly, Virginia lunged, reclaimin
g Gloria’s wrist. “But you must swear you won’t tell Cutter. Not a word. Swear it!” And she wouldn’t let go until Gloria nodded.

  “I want to thank you, Gloria, for visiting my mother.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Agnes.” Cutter changed the phone from his right to his left hand and wondered why Gloria sounded so strange. “She said you stayed for over an hour. That was kind.”

  “It doesn’t take a lot of kindness to visit someone you’ve known all your life.”

  “Yeah … well … I know my mother can strain the limits of human endurance after five minutes. So, thanks. What did the Dragon Lady want, anyway?”

  “Haven’t you gotten over calling people names?”

  “Sorry … didn’t think it would upset you. I meant it more as a joke, really. Anyway … what did my mother have to say?”

  “Maybe you should go visit her and find out for yourself.”

  Cutter couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was definitely something wrong. “Yeah … well … I just wanted to say thanks and to tell you that Clive McGreedy just put his car up for sale. Only seven years old. And you know how he takes care of things. You can eat off the floor of his barn. I imagine that car engine won’t be much different. How about I drive you over and we take a look? You did me a favor. Now I owe you one.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Cutter, you don’t owe me anything!”

  Boy, was she touchy. And here he was thinking he was making some progress, getting on friendlier ground. “Look, you’re the one who’s been going all around town asking if anyone has a good used car for sale. I was just trying to be neighborly. You want to see the car or not?”

  There was a long silence, then, “How much?”

  “Thirty-five hundred. But I bet you could get Clive to come down a bit. He’s always liked you.” Another long silence.

  “I don’t think so,” Gloria finally said. “It’s a bit too pricy.”