Eden in Winter (31 page)

Thinking of Carla, Adam felt a stab of regret. ‘So you told me.’

Rachel gave him a questioning look, as though suddenly shy. Seeming to will this away, she offered another kiss that was long and deep enough to leave no doubts. Then she pressed herself against his chest, sighing a little. Though she was tall, her body felt light in his arms.

The rest was up to him, Adam realized. When his hands slid beneath her sweater, touching the slender planes of her back and shoulders, she made no protest.

Still kissing her, Adam unsnapped her bra. He leaned back slightly, touching her flat stomach with his palms, then reaching under her loosened bra to cup her small, firm breasts, the tip of his thumbs grazing her nipples.

He felt her shiver. Mute, she raised her arms so he could pull the sweater over her head. He did that, obscuring her face for a moment. Then the sweater was a clump on the floor, and her eyes held his with an intensity Adam felt to his core. Shrugging the bra off her shoulders, she exposed perfect breasts, brown nipples raised with desire. ‘Now you,’ she whispered.

He took off his sweater. Bending slightly, she kissed the thin line of black hair running down his chest and stomach. Then she looked at him, and gently touched the scar that marked his exit wound. ‘What happened?’

‘I was mowing the lawn. The blades threw a rock.’

Even as her lips opened to form a question, Adam saw her eyes reserve it for later. They had more urgent business now.

Still looking at him, she stepped out of her shoes. As he kissed her again, Adam unbuckled her belt, then knelt in front of her, sliding down her jeans, then her sheer silk thong. His lips grazed the black fur between her slender hips and then, briefly, a more intimate place.

He heard the murmur of satisfaction in her throat. Then she reached beneath his arms, pulling him up to her. ‘My turn, Adam.’

Avidly, she helped him step out of his jeans. Then she went to her knees, taking him into her mouth. Her lips were moist and soft, her hand stroking so gently but rhythmically that he stiffened to the point of bursting before she withdrew,
standing before him again. Then she took his hand and led him down the hallway to the master bedroom.

It was dark and shadowy, the blinds drawn, save for a single window. Firmly, Rachel closed the door, switching on one dim lamp, and Adam saw them captured in a mirror. Following his gaze, Rachel pulled him to her, their bodies touching, watching their reflection in the silvery glass. Then she broke away from him, lying back on the down bed cover. Gazing up at him, she slowly opened her legs, exposing the pinkness between.

‘Do you really want me, Adam?’

His voice, thick with desire, concealed his confusion. ‘Yes.’ He slid on to the bed, kissing the place she had shown him until it was moist, and her torso began to writhe.

‘I so want
you
,’ she told him, a fervent exhalation of breath.

How long had it been? Adam wondered. Since before Ben’s death, he realized, though it troubled him that he could not recall which woman. Arms raised, he pulled himself on top of her, her hand guiding his shaft inside her, snug and warm and wet. ‘Deeper,’ she demanded.

He gave her all of him, then began moving, slowly at first, then harder, faster, still controlling himself, staying distant from his own desires so that he could please her.

‘Yes,’ she urged him.

He moved faster still. Suddenly she gave a small cry, her hips thrusting against him with primal urgency. He felt her tightening, and then the tightness broke, and with a fierce spasm she cried out, ‘Oh, Adam—’ his name breaking off in a cry of pleasure, and then she was shuddering more gently
until, with a final twitch, she became utterly still, gazing up at the ceiling as though stunned by some revelation.

‘My God, Adam Blaine,’ she whispered in a tone of wonder, and then looked searchingly into his face.

He smiled a little. ‘You’re not disappointed?’

‘Why on earth would I be?’

‘You never found me a job.’

She kissed him gently. ‘That’s for later. What I want now is to make you lose control.’

Not so easy, Adam knew. He had been too practised, and too detached, for too long. But she was lovely like this, and she could not read his mind.

She began to move with him, head darting to take his nipple between her teeth, nipping at him to inflict both pain and ecstasy. He willed himself to think about nothing but her, nothing but this. At last he felt his shaft tighten beyond help. With the final excruciating rictus he burst inside her, and then this slowed, his pulse still racing as the warm tingling of release spread through his limbs.

When he opened his eyes, she was looking intently up at him, as though drawing his soul inside her. ‘That was certainly worth waiting for. I only hope—’

He cut this off by kissing her. ‘It was,’ he assured her. ‘I’m grateful for your patience; all ten years’ worth.’

She smiled with relief. ‘I thought so, too. Whatever happened with your father and my mother, it couldn’t have been nearly as good as this.’

*

Close to one o’clock, as happened often now, Carla stirred awake, her sleep broken by the awkward position in which she lay, the discomfort of her swollen limbs and belly. But
then she felt the baby kicking, and was overcome by gratitude.

Please
, she implored him,
live
.

She had not been to church since the first threat of miscarriage. Now she rose, putting on her robe, and went to sit at her kitchen table.

Her mother’s rosary beads were there. Fingering them, she bent her head, praying that her child be born safe and strong. She felt a deep vulnerability, a consuming love like nothing she had experienced before this – fighting with all her soul and body to bring this child into the world.

A beam of light struck her front window. Apprehensive, she struggled upright, and went to peer through the glass.

A familiar S.U.V. was idling in the driveway of the main house, motor warming in the cold.
It’s Rachel
, she thought, relief mingled with curiosity. Then she saw the man captured by headlights as he climbed into the passenger side.

It was only a few seconds. But she knew him at once. His frame and movements were so like Ben’s.

With a sudden sickness of spirit, she forced herself away from the window and sat back down at the table, shaken. There was only one reason for him to be there at this hour, with this woman.
An alluring, talented woman
, she amended.

Carla felt her eyes close. She had no reason to feel betrayed, as though Adam had deserted her. They had no commitment to each other, had never made love as he surely had tonight with Rachel. And that must be the least of it for Adam – Carla was known to be self-destructive, and she was pregnant with Ben’s child. She had no right to feel as though her heart had been ripped open.

Perhaps he was truly his supposed father’s son, as other people had experienced Ben – a predator, and Adam’s only model through the years of growing up. But, despite her fears, she had sensed a goodness in Adam, imagined an affinity he might feel as well. Perhaps he was a good man, needing only the fresh start she could not give him. Perhaps he’d find that him with Rachel Ravinsky.

But Carla was no judge of men; her life had made that all too clear. She felt jealous, confused, craving a certainty she could not find. And, most of all, afraid of Adam and herself. She had made mistakes too many times. All she knew for sure was that she wanted a life different than the one she had had, a man different than all the unstable and selfish men she had known as an actress.

Perhaps this was unfair to Adam Blaine. Perhaps that was why she found herself crying.

‘We’ll be all right,’ she promised her son. ‘Just get here, please, and I’ll be all right for you.’

*

Rachel dropped Adam at the head of the driveway. With feigned concern, she whispered, ‘Think she’s waiting up for you?’

‘Probably. It’s past my curfew.’

Adam still felt strange to himself, as though he had betrayed Carla. He could not shake this; the guesthouse was too close. In this way he was not Ben’s son.

Interrupting his thoughts, Rachel swiftly kissed him before leaning back to study his face. ‘I hope this isn’t the last time,’ she said softly. ‘I like being with you, Adam. It feels like there’s more to do, and to say.’

Perhaps there is
, he thought. There was no reason, really,
not to find out. ‘I’m getting my own place,’ he responded. ‘The next time, we’ll go there.’

Rachel looked at him, her expression briefly vulnerable, as though she had divined his thoughts. But all she said was, ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Leaving to look at rental properties, Adam encountered Jack repairing a rotted corner of the front porch.

‘Termites,’ Jack muttered, then drove another nail into a new plank.

With nothing to say, Adam headed for the car before the hearing Jack softly call his name.

He turned to face his father. Still kneeling, Jack looked up at him, squinting slightly in a thin winter sun. ‘I hear you’re moving out.’

Adam nodded. ‘Better that way.’

Jack’s deep brown eyes were questioning and sombre. ‘Is it? Your mother doesn’t think so.’

Afraid of being overheard, Adam moved closer, speaking under his breath. ‘She might if she knew what happened between you and Ben that night. But I would think she knows enough. You and Mom should have whatever you both need – God knows you waited long enough. But the three of us can’t go back and rewrite history, playing Mom and Dad and
son.’ He glanced toward the guesthouse. ‘Besides, there’s Teddy to consider. For everyone’s good, the less Ted knows about our family history the better, including that he’s only my half-brother. Which also makes us cousins, I suppose – sometimes I lose track.’

Jack winced, deepening the lines of age in his weathered face. ‘I wonder if you can ever accept me. Or who I am to you.’

Caught between sadness and fatigue, Adam sat beside his father. ‘What can you be? I make no judgment about what happened between my mother and you. And I’ll never forget what a good uncle you were to us both. But you weren’t a father to me when it mattered.’

‘So it doesn’t matter now?’

‘I wish it did, Jack. But nothing can change the past, or what we’re dealing with in the present. I contrived this cover-up so that neither you nor Teddy spends a life in prison for my quasi-father’s death – sealing my mother’s sadness in the bargain. But as long as I stay in this house, I’m living that every moment. It’s suffocating.’

Jack ran a hand through his dark, silvering hair. In a low voice he said, ‘God knows I’d like to go back to when you were a boy, tell you “I’m your father, and I love you”. I always felt I was watching you through a window – completely miserable, unable to make myself known. But I had to live by your mother’s rules.’

‘And Ben’s. So here we all are, living out the choices I had no part in making.’ Feeling compassion war with candour, Adam placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘I don’t hate you, Jack – far from it. I don’t want Mom or you or Teddy to keep paying the price for who Ben was. But I can’t pretend to feel
things I don’t, or to forget what can never be forgotten.’

Jack looked down. ‘At least that’s honest. Far more than we could ever be with you.’

There was nothing more to say, Adam knew. He let his hand rest on his father’s shoulder for another moment, then went to find a place to live, still suspended between his past and future.

*

Driving to meet the rental agent, Adam reviewed yet again what George Hanley knew or believed – that Adam had broken into the courthouse, stolen files, and sent them to Teddy’s lawyer. The one piece Hanley did not have was Adam’s manipulation of Bobby Towle, once his teammate and friend. Adam’s deepest shame.

*

Shortly after Ben’s funeral, Adam had met Bobby at the bar of the Kelly House.

In ten years it was little changed – dim lights, wooden tables, and a bar jammed with tourists and islanders, the din of laughter and conversation bouncing off walls covered with old photographs and Vineyard memorabilia. His friend sat at a small table in the corner, looking bulky and awkward in blue jeans and a polo shirt big enough to double as a beach towel. In the instant before Bobby saw him, Adam had the affectionate thought that he looked like Baby Huey all grown up – a little bulkier, a lot sadder.

With a smile, Adam sat down. ‘So, pal, how’ve you been the last decade or so?’

Bobby mustered a smile of his own. ‘You know how this island is. Days pass, then years, nothing changes much. Pretty soon that’s your life.’

But something had changed, Adam sensed. For a guy like Bobby, being a cop and married to the prettiest girl in their high school class should have felt better than it appeared. Bobby ordered two beers, then asked, ‘And you? Seems like you just disappeared.’

Adam nodded. ‘One day I woke up and decided to see the world. For me, everything changes, every day. I don’t know which is better.’

The puzzlement lingered in Bobby’s eyes. ‘Everyone thought you’d be a lawyer. Maybe marry Jenny Leigh.’

Adam felt the familiar ache, the memory of a life torn asunder. ‘So did I,’ he answered. ‘I found out that wasn’t me.’

A young waitress brought two beer mugs full to the brim. Hoisting his, Adam said, ‘To victory over Nantucket.’

Clicking mugs, Bobby replied nostalgically, ‘That was a game, wasn’t it?’

‘Yep. I’ll remember the last play on my deathbed. They’re two yards from the goal line, five seconds to go, a quarterback sweep away from beating us. He almost gets to the goal line. Then you knock the son of a bitch into tomorrow, and the ball loose from his hands—’

‘And you fall on it,’ Bobby finished. ‘Happiest moment of my life.’

‘Happier than marrying Barbara?’ Adam asked lightly. ‘Football games are sixty minutes; marriage is supposed to last a lifetime. Or so they tell me.’

Bobby’s face changed, his bewildered expression followed by a slow shake of the head. ‘That’s what I always believed.’ He stopped himself. ‘I don’t much like to talk about it, Adam.
With what happened to your dad, we maybe shouldn’t even be having this beer.’