A Slow Boil (23 page)

“I hope you like macaroni and cheese.”

“That’s my favorite next to spaghetti.”

“Good, because I made you tons of it, and I’ll make spaghetti
tomorrow, okay?”

It wasn’t long before the kitchen was full, everyone filling their
plates and getting their drinks before heading into the dining-room.  Mr.
Hunter and Cecilia arrived last, laughing as they entered.

“Adam, I refuse to believe that.  You’re making it up.”

“Just ask Miss Lane.  She’ll tell you.”  He smiled as he
approached me, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

“Tell her what, Mr. Hunter?” I smiled up at him.

“Cecilia doesn’t believe that sometimes I come down early and help
you cook dinner.”

I turned to face Cecilia.  “Oh, he does.  He’s coming
along very well as my sous chef, shows a lot of promise.”

She shook her head as she fixed her plate.  “I’ll have to see
it to believe it.  The one thing we all know about Adam is that he hates
to cook.  These sandwiches look fantastic, by the way.  Is this
basil?”

“Yep.”

She grabbed a drink and headed into the dining-room, leaving me
and Mr. Hunter alone in the kitchen.  The second the door was closed
behind her, Mr. Hunter pulled me into his arms and gave me a real kiss, which I
returned with enthusiasm, running my hands up into his hair and hugging him
tightly.

A few minutes later, we took our plates into the dining-room. 
I saw Robert glance at his brother’s messed up hair and then smile down into
his plate.  I smoothed my own hair as Mr. Hunter held my chair out, and we
all dug into lunch.  I’d gotten over my reservations about feeling too
young, and the conversation flowed easily as we discussed what to do that
afternoon.  Robert and Joanne wanted to take their kids out to the beach,
but Jonathan and Cecilia were pushing for a day trip to
LaPorte
. 
Mr. Hunter declared himself neutral, so Joanne asked me to cast the deciding
vote.

“Well, since
LaPorte
is on the coast,
you guys -” I gestured to Robert and Joanne, “- can hit the beach down there,
while you two -” I nodded to Jonathan and Cecilia, “- can see the town. 
Mr. Hunter can do whichever he prefers.”

“Good answer, Sylvia,” said Robert.  “But which would you
prefer?”

“Me?  I’ll be staying here getting dinner ready.”

“No, Miss Lane, come with us today.  It’s too far to go just
to turn around and hurry back for dinner.  I’ll take everyone out to
Grand's tonight.”  Mr. Hunter raised his eyebrows at me while he took a
bite of his sandwich.  “This is delicious, by the way.”

“Okay, sure, it’ll be fun.”

It was fun.  Mr. Hunter and I spent an hour on the beach with
Jonathan's family, where I finally got Janie to talk to me as I helped her
build a sandcastle.  Then we met up with Robert and Joanne to do some
sightseeing in town.  Matthew ran up to me when he saw us coming, and
yelled, “Aunt Sylvia!”  I looked up at Mr. Hunter, asking him with my
expression if I should say anything, but he just shrugged and smiled.

“He likes you.”  He put his arm around my waist and pulled me
into him.  “And who can blame him?”

The rest of the visit went too fast.  Joanne had almost
majored in anthropology before deciding on pre-law, so she and I spent some
time talking about my classes and the program at Noble.  We sat in the
library together most of Saturday morning laughing about the most absurd things
our professors had asked of us.  I had a great story about one who made us
put on blindfolds and then touch aboriginal masks so that “we would really
know,” but she topped me with a professor who’d played a recording of pygmy
voices for three hours.

“The first fifteen minutes were interesting, sure, but he sat
there the whole time like he was having a religious experience.  Three
hours, Sylvia, that’s all I’m saying.”

I could picture it perfectly and laughed so hard I had to wipe my
eyes as I recovered.

“So, Sylvia, I have a question.”

“What?”

“What’s with all this Miss Lane/Mr. Hunter stuff you two do? 
The almost-anthropologist in me is dying to know.”

“Well, that’s how we addressed each other when I started working
for him and I guess it’s just carried over.”

“It seems so formal, like there’s a certain distance between the
two of you.”

I thought about that for a minute, thought about our dinners,
thought about when he used my first name and what it did to me when he did.

“I like it when he calls me Miss Lane.”  I gave her a knowing
look.  “He uses my first name sometimes.”

She totally got it.  “Oh.  I see.  Nice.”

“Yes, very.”

“I’ve been married to Robert for seven years and still don’t know
Adam all that well.  The first time I met him was at our wedding, and he
struck me as kind of a wreck, to be honest.  I found out later that his
current relationship had just blown up, that she was cheating on him and was
only with him for his money.  He moved here shortly thereafter, so this is
probably the fifth time I've seen him.  But, Sylvia,” she sat up in her
chair and leaned toward me, “he’s a completely different person this
time.  I finally see the Adam that Robert’s always told me about.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

“You’re good for him, that’s obvious.  But is he good for
you?”

Her question was genuine, not patronizing at all.  It felt
like I was talking to an older sister, someone who really cared about me. 
She reminded me a lot of Britt at that moment.

“He is.  I know what you mean about how he’s changed. 
He was intimidating when I first met him, and so authoritative he scared me a
little.  But it was just a show, just a defense.  Once I started
getting to know him I found out he’s the kindest, gentlest, most thoughtful man
I've ever known.  All he thinks about now is ways to make me happy.”

“Good.  Robert thinks you might be too young for him, but I
think you balance each other out.  You give him life and he gives you …
what?”

“Is this a lawyer’s trick?  I’m not on the stand, am I?” I
laughed a little.

“No, Sylvia, I’m just curious.  What are you getting out of
this?”

“I don’t think I can answer that in one word.  My mom left us
when I two and my dad raised me more as a fishing buddy than a daughter. 
This is the first time in my life that I’ve felt like someone really needs me. 
He makes me feel indispensable.  I’ve never had that feeling before.”

“Are you in love with him?”

I nodded and smiled.  “Yes.”

“I thought so.  He loves you, too, I can tell.”  She
smiled back at me, and started to rise. “I should go find out what the kids are
up to.”  She patted my shoulder.  “Let me know if you want me to draw
up a pre-
nup
.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying.”  She winked at me.  “I’ll do it for
free.”

That night after dinner we gravitated back to the library. 
It was the last night of the visit and everyone seemed in the mood to stay
together.  There weren’t enough chairs for everyone so Mr. Hunter sat on
the piano bench and I gave him a little wink as I knelt on the floor nearby
with the kids.  Matthew went to examine the piano and I heard him ask Mr.
Hunter to play a song; after he’d played a couple of Matthew’s favorites, I
suggested a game of musical chairs.  Robert and Jonathan brought up some
chairs from the dining room, and Cecilia, Joanne and I joined in with the
children.  After a particularly fierce round I lost my seat to Janie and
left the game to stand by Jonathan.  We watched the rest of the game
together, my eyes mostly on Mr. Hunter as he deliberately paced his playing to
the kids’ advantage.  The room was full of music and laughter.

“This is what I was talking about, Sylvia.”  Jonathan looked
up at me as I perched on the arm of his chair.  “This never would have
happened last year.  Or the year before that.”

I smiled down to him.  “I’m glad the children are having
fun.  I hope they enjoyed their visit.”

“I’m glad my brother is having fun.”

We both watched Adam slowly drawing out the final chords as Janie
and Matthew circled the last chair, a wide smile on his face, looking so
different from the first time I’d met him.  “Yeah, me too.”

Sunday morning we said our goodbyes shortly after brunch.  I
got hugs from everyone, even Janie, and offers to stay any time I wanted with
Jonathan in Chicago and Robert in Philadelphia.  We waved from the front
door as their cars headed down the driveway.

“Well, Mr. Hunter, you survived.”  I followed him into the
living room, where he sat on the couch, pulling me onto his lap.

“That was actually the best time I’ve had with them.  The
kids are getting older and more fun.”

“Those children are adorable.  It’s so nice to be able to put
names with faces on all the photos in our room.  Is Matthew the one on the
swing?”

“Yep.  He was two then, I think.”

“He was so blond.”

“I know.  When Robert sent me that photo, I called him and
asked if he was sure Matthew was his.”

I gave him a light slap on his arm.  “You.”

Mr. Hunter chuckled and laid his head back, closing his
eyes.  I rested my head on his shoulder and we sat together, enjoying the
silence.

“You got along okay with everyone?”  He asked me after a
while.

“Yeah, everyone was great.  Your brothers are both really
nice.  You three are so alike, but different in little ways.”

“How so?”

“Well, Jonathan’s the most boyish, which I guess makes sense since
he’s the youngest.  Robert comes off much older, sometimes as if he’s the
oldest brother instead of you.”

I felt Mr. Hunter kiss the top of my head.  “That’s probably
my fault.  I kind of abandoned them for a while after our parents
died.  Robert had to take care of settling the estate, take care of
Jonathan.”

“Jonathan told me a little about that.”

“What did he say?”

“Just that you quit school, and that you’d argued with your father
over your girlfriend and hadn’t reconciled before he died.”  I tightened my
arm around his chest in a half-hug.

“My father and I never saw eye-to-eye on anything.  Maybe
because I was the oldest, he kept trying to steer me in directions I didn’t
want to go.  Half the reason I wanted to go to art school so badly was
because I knew he didn’t approve.  After he died, it just didn’t matter to
me anymore.”

I looked up at him and ran a finger along his jaw.

“My mother was probably my best friend growing up.  Losing
her was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through.  They left me all their
artwork in their will and I felt like my father forgave me for all our
arguments by doing that, but I couldn’t forgive myself for not going home that
last Christmas.  The last time I talked to my mother, she called to ask me
to please come, but I was short with her, taking out my anger with my
father.”  He shook his head, clearly still pained at the memory, and
sighed.  “Jill broke up with me and then my mother died … it just seemed
like I wasn’t meant to hold on to anything good.”

He hugged me tighter, not even aware of doing so.  I thought
about how he must have felt but was unable to imagine losing my dad and someone
I thought I loved at the same time.  I swore to myself as I burrowed my
face into his chest that I’d never do anything to hurt him.

We were silent for a long while and then I lifted my head. “Mr.
Hunter?”

“Yes?”

“Joanne told me a little about your last girlfriend.  Can I
ask what happened?”

He ran his hand up and down my back.  “My last girlfriend was
Susan.  We met at a bar in New York City and she seemed like everything my
father would have approved of.  She came from a very good family and was
already a successful editor.  I’d been trying to turn my life
around.  I’d finished college and was in grad school when we met. 
I’d figured that since living like a wastrel for several years hadn’t made me
happy, I’d try to do things my father’s way.”  He sighed and moved his
hand up into my hair. “I liked her, she liked me, and it wasn’t long before we
were living together and I was thinking of proposing.  I didn’t love her,
but it felt like the right thing to do.  I could see a future together and
it seemed like an easy route to a stable life, something my father had always
preached was more important than anything.”  He went silent again, still
running his fingers through my hair.  “The rest of it’s an old story,
often told.  One of my classes was canceled and I came home early to find
her with another man.  We fought.  We broke up.  The end.”

I fingered a button on his shirt.  “Joanne said she was only
with you for your money.”

“I found out later that she’d been dipping into my savings
account.  I guess her lifestyle went above her editor’s pay and she didn’t
want to ask her family for money.  I would have given her anything if
she’d asked, but she chose to go behind my back.”