“Does he now.”
“Yes. He’s very generous.”
“So when did you two meet?”
“When I interviewed for the job back in mid-May, so just over two months ago, I guess.”
“That’s all?”
“Yep. Why?”
“I don’t know. You two just seem like you’ve been together longer somehow.”
“Well, we’ve been pretty inseparable since I moved in, except when he’s working, or I’m working, and sometimes not even then. He plays the piano while I’m cleaning the library.”
“He does?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
Jonathan had the same mannerism of running his hand through his hair as his older brother. I tossed the pasta salad I was making while I waited to see if it signified the same uneasiness.
“It’s just that last year he refused to play for us. He said he didn’t play at all anymore and was even thinking of selling his piano.”
“I’m so glad he didn’t.”
“He was so good, growing up, Sylvia. He was the only one of us with any musical talent, and we all thought he had a gift. Our mother, especially.”
“He told me that he used to give her trouble about practicing.”
“I never heard any. She used to drop whatever she was doing and just sit and listen when he played.”
“Were they very close?”
“Very. He inherited her creativity and love of art. They were a lot alike. Does he talk about her very much?”
“No, not really.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“I know that your parents passed away. I’m so sorry about that.”
“Yeah, that was rough. They were killed by a drunk driver. On the one hand, it was instant so they didn’t suffer, but on the other, our lives were turned upside down in a second.”
“I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for you. How old were you when it happened?”
“I was seventeen, still in high school. Robert was a sophomore in college and Adam was a senior.”
I shook my head, thinking that I’d be a senior next year. “What a horrible age to lose your parents, not that there’s ever a good age.”
“Adam actually took it the hardest. Maybe because he was the oldest, I don’t know.”
I went to work on the macaroni and cheese I was making for the kids. “He told me that he dropped out of school after that.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean. He and our father had argued for months about whether or not he could go to art school instead of something more practical like our father wanted. I can still remember hearing them yell at each other. No one had ever raised their voices like that in our house. It was Mom who finally convinced our dad to let him go. And then after they died, he just quit when he only had one semester to go before graduating.”
“Poor Adam.” I wished I could go back in time and comfort him.
“Things were really bad between him and our father that year, too. Adam had met someone at school, a girl. He brought her home for Thanksgiving. I thought she was really nice, but I guess Dad didn’t approve of her. He could be really old-fashioned about social status. I never knew all the details, just that Adam refused to come home over the winter break that year, and that it had to do with Jill, I think her name was. My parents were killed in February, and Adam and our father hadn’t reconciled yet.”
“That’s terrible. He told me about her, but not the part about your dad.”
“I should probably let him tell you this stuff. He knows more about it than I do, obviously.”
I pulled some servings plates out and started setting out the pasta dishes.
“No, I’m glad you told me. He doesn’t talk about his past very much and I don’t like to pry, so there’s still a lot I don’t know about him.”
“Like what? I’ll answer one question if I can have a piece of that cheese.”
“Deal.” I smiled, handed him a slice of fresh mozzarella, and thought for a moment. What was something I could ask that Jonathan wouldn’t feel was too personal?
“Do you know why he moved here? I mean, I know he got a job with Noble, but he could have worked anywhere, I imagine. I’ve wondered if there was a particular reason he chose here.”
“I think it was more about leaving the States. He’d had another relationship end on bad terms and we all figured he just wanted to get away.”
“Ah.”
“We’ve actually been somewhat worried about him, Robert and I. We thought he’d decided to become a hermit. After our last visit, we were convinced of it, in fact.”
I turned on the broiler and started assembling the open-faced sandwiches.
“Do you still think that?”
He looked around the kitchen, his gaze finally settling on the radio.
“Sylvia, I haven’t seen him this happy since before our parents died. This house was like a funeral home last time we were here. I can’t believe how different it feels now.” He gestured to the radio. “Like people actually live here.”
I laughed a little. “It couldn’t have been that bad, surely.”
He smiled at me, his eyes twinkling in the corners just like Mr. Hunter’s. “Trust me. It was.”
I opened the oven door and slid the sandwiches in just as Robert and two of the children came in.
“Hi there,” I said to Robert. “Lunch is about five minutes away. Are you guys hungry?” I leaned down to the kids. Matthew was Robert’s five year old, and Janie was Jonathan’s four year old. Janie ran up to her dad and grabbed his leg instead of answering me, but Matthew said, “Sylvia, I’m sooo hungry.”
“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 t
oday. 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.”
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