“Did you get to see Bliss?” he asked as he took his seat at the table. Jen set their plates in front of them. She had made chicken salad with grapes and cold Oriental noodles, all beautifully arranged on the black square china.
“Yes. She's adorable.” It was difficult for her to hold Sam's gaze for long because she was certain he was thinking, I am hot and you and I both know it. She wondered how his female patients managed to sit across from him week after week without drooling.
“She seems happy enough, don't you think?” he asked.
“Well, I didn't get to see her that long. She seems like a very serious child.”
“There's nothing wrong with that.” Sam smiled. “I was one myself.”
Eden chewed on a grape. Perhaps she had to be careful what she said here. After all, she was a stranger to Sam and Jen, walking into their house, telling them she thought their niece was imperfect.
“She said something I thought was strange.” Eden told them about Bliss saying her daddy still visited her sometimes.
Jen shuddered. “That's weird.”
Sam frowned. “I keep in touch with her counselor and she's never told me that Bliss has said anything like that.”
“Maybe someone should tell the counselor?” Eden asked.
Sam shrugged. “I'll mention it to her, but I think Joan Dove is probably right for the first time in her life. I think Bliss is dreaming—-or maybe just fantasizing—that Ben's visiting. It's her way of coping with the loss. I think she's actually in good shape for all she's been through.” He was obviously closing the subject.
They talked for a while about Ben, how they missed him, all the things they used to do together, and she became less and less comfortable with Sam. He was nice enough, but there was the subtlest bit of acid in his voice when he spoke to her, and finally she understood. He didn't trust her. When lunch was over and they leaned back in their chairs he looked her hard in the eye.
“Eden, I'd like to speak frankly to you,” he said. “I can tell you care about Ben. I can tell you're sincere, and I'm glad of that because I was worried you might be using him somehow.”
“How would I be using him?”
“Well, you're an actress, used to the excitement of Hollywood, and you're stuck in a rural area for the summer.” Sam shrugged. “Ben's someone to do things with, someone to help you pass the time away.”
“I'm not using him. I'm in love with him.”
Sam smiled. “Yes, I can see you are. But I'm still concerned about what happens down the road. Ben says you worry about your image.” He said the word “image” as though it tasted sour in his mouth. “At some point, Eden, the shit is going to hit the fan. What will you do then?”
She wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but thought better of it. “I don't see any point in worrying about what might happen in the future,” she said.
Sam leaned toward her. “I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I'm just afraid Ben is going to get hurt. You're a nice person and I wish you all the best, but he's my first priority. What are you going to do when the media finds out that you're seeing a man who served time for molesting his daughter?”
“Sam.” Jen put her hand on Sam's arm and looked apologetically at Eden.
“I'm hoping that never happens,” Eden said. “If it does, I'll deal with it at the time. I love Ben. I'm happier with him than I've been in a long time and I'm not about to give that up without a fight.”
Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair. “He's my little brother, you know?” He smiled again and she suddenly saw Ben in his smile. “He always will be. All our lives I've tried to protect him, but this time I'm up against the wall. I haven't been able to do a damn thing for him. I apologize. I've overstepped my bounds. Ben would shoot me if he knew I was badgering you.” He stood up and put his suit jacket back on. Then he turned to her once again. “Please don't hurt him, Eden,” he said quietly, and she felt sorry for Sam, for the impotence she saw in his eyes. “He's taken just about all he can take.”
She had intended to go straight to Ben's cabin after the three-hour drive from Annapolis, but she found herself turning down the road to Lynch Hollow instead. She needed to talk to Kyle and Lou first.
It was nearly six and she found them in the living room. Lou sat at her easel; Kyle was drinking coffee on the sofa, a fat book open on his lap.
“I need your advice,” she said to them.
Lou set her paintbrush down and Kyle snapped his book shut. Eden smiled at the immediateness of their reaction. This was probably the first time in her life she'd asked them for advice.
She told them about seeing Bliss at Green Gables, about the little girl's worrisome thinness, the sober, adultlike expression on her face, the reported nightmares, the fantasy of her father's nocturnal visits.
“I don't know what to tell Ben,” she said. “My idea in going to see Bliss was to be able to report back to him that she seems like a normal, happy kid. But she doesn't. Even if I hadn't known her, if I hadn't been looking for a problem, she would have stood out as being different from the others, disturbed in some way.”
Lou shook her head. “That makes me very sad,” she said. “I remember her as a happy, lively little girl. She always had a smile on her face.”
“What should I tell him? Driving here, I was thinking I'll have to lie to him. What's the point in telling him the truth when there's nothing he can do about it?”
“If you were in his shoes,” Kyle asked, “and a friend of yours had seen Cassie and discovered what you've discovered, would you want them to protect you from what they'd learned?”
Eden smiled. It was very clear. “No. But it's going to upset him because there's nothing he can do to help her.”
“But he can tell his brother what you've observed, and maybe Sam can see that she gets more help than she's getting.”
Eden groaned. “That man can't admit there's anything wrong.” She told them about her visit with Sam and Jen.
“Well, he's in a bad spot too,” Kyle said. “He's trying to help Ben, and trying to look out for Bliss, and he must have to watch his step around Sharon and her new husband. You probably just look like a major complication to him.”
“I used to worry about Ben getting any more bad news,” Lou said. “But I don't now, because you're here. You're a comfort to him, Eden. He'll be okay.”
Ben met her at his door. “God, you're late,” he said. “How did it go?”
She sat him down on the sofa and held his hand while she told him moment by moment and word for word about her morning at Green Gables. She presented it as fact, didn't color any of it with her own interpretation, because maybe she was wrong. Maybe he would see nothing worrisome in the way Bliss's ribs felt like carving knives beneath her fingers, and maybe Bliss had always awakened from her naps on the edge of a nightmare and that was nothing new, a symptom of absolutely nothing. He listened without comment, without change of expression, and when she was through he began to cry. She held him. “It's all right, Ben,” she said, stroking his back, kissing his hair. “It's all right.”
Sometime in the middle of the night he woke her up. His body was hot and damp next to her, and he had kicked the sheet off. It lay tangled over her legs and hips.
“You didn't tell me how it went at Sam and Jen's,” he said. His voice was so clear that she knew he had not slept.
She put her arm across him, her head on his chest. She heard his heart beating and felt the softness of the hair on his chest beneath her cheek. “It was fine,” she said. “I really liked Jen. And Sam thinks Bliss is doing well. So maybe this is an improvement over where she was.”
“No,” Ben said. “What you described is not a goddamned improvement. Did you tell Sam what you saw?”
“I think Sam thinks I caught Bliss on a bad day.”
“Yeah, and he said those pictures of her at Saint Michaels were taken on a bad day too. I'll have to talk to him and—”
“Ben.” She raised herself u
p on an elbow to look at him. “Please don't say anything to Sam that will make him think I'm interfering or being pushy or ... Maybe you'd better not mention me to him at all.”
“What are you saying?”
“He's worried I'll hurt you.”
She could see his smile in the thin moonlight that filtered through his window. He reached up to touch her hair. “I'll tell him you're the only thing in my life that doesn't hurt at all.”
She drove back to Lynch Hollow early the next morning. She had poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot in the kitchen and was about to take it upstairs with her when she heard Kyle's voice from his bedroom.
“I just read the notebook over and I don't see how I can possibly give it to her,” he said.
Eden froze at the bottom of the stairs. She wondered if she should call out, let them know she was home. But before she could decide Kyle spoke again.
“Maybe I should just tell her about it instead of letting her read it.”
There was no response from Lou, and for a moment Eden wondered if Kyle was talking on the phone. Or to himself. But then Lou spoke.
“You've brought her along this far with the journal, Ky,” she said. “And you know it was what Kate wanted.”
Eden was afraid to listen any longer. She walked quietly up the stairs to her room and sat down in front of the word processor. She hated hearing that worry in Kyle's voice. She hated that she was causing him any concern at all. She thought of telling him she'd overheard his conversation with Lou, that if he wanted to just tell her about the next notebook that was fine with her. He had shared so much of himself with her; she could ask no more of him. But she couldn't tell him she'd listened in. She would have to let him make his own decision on this.
She worked the entire day on the screenplay, except for a quick break for lunch and a long, satisfying phone call to Cassie. When she went downstairs for dinner she spotted the next notebook, black with age, on the counter and knew Kyle had made his decision. “Is that for me?” she asked as she took her seat.
“What are your plans tonight?” Kyle asked.
“Ben needs a good night's sleep after last night, so I'm going to stay home. Get a little more work done.” She nodded in the direction of the notebook. “I could read that tonight if that's okay with you.”
“Why don't the three of us go out?” Lou suggested.
“That's a good idea,” said Kyle. “What movie's playing in town?”
“Well, I think I'll just—”
“Come with us, dear,” Lou said. It was more of a command than an invitation.
So she rode into Coolbrook to watch a rerun of Vertigo at the renovated movie theater. The movie was so old it was lined and crackly on the screen—one of those movies that reminded her of the days when she longed to be an actress, when she thought that nothing else in life could ever satisfy her.
She sat next to Kyle in the theater. He'd put on a beige cardigan for the air-conditioning, and he smelled of Old Spice. She felt his presence like an old quilt, a comforter.
After the movie Kyle insisted they go to The Scoop Sboppe for ice cream sundaes, and after that Lou suggested they “stroll and roll” down Coolbrook's deserted Main Street. Anyone watching them would think they wanted to avoid going back to Lynch Hollow at all costs. So it was nearly eleven-thirty when they got home. Ben had left a message for her on Kyle's answering machine. Eden sat on the living room sofa, listening to him tell her that he felt better today and that he loved her.
She clicked off the machine just as Kyle walked into the room with the notebook. She stood to take it from him, and he wrapped his arms around her for a hug that lasted a long, long time.
–34–
August 2, 1954
Today is my 27th birthday. Daddy, Susanna, Kyle and I ate angel food cake with raspberries after dinner, and then Kyle said he wanted to take me for a drive. He said he needed to talk to me and I knew right away what he had to say. Dr. Latterly's at N.Y.U. now, and he has been after Kyle about going back to school. He wants him to go into a doctoral program in New York, and then later join him on an expedition to South America. Dr. Latterly thinks Kyle has enormous potential (so do I) and he wants to see him use it some place other than Lynch Hollow. Up 'til now, Kyle and I have just discussed the facts of the offer, the where, when and how. But we both know that if he accepts this route, he will be leaving Lynch Hollow for good.
So tonight we drove out to Coolbrook Park. We got out of the car because it was so hot and sat on the bank of the river. Kyle told me how badly he wants to go back to school. He apologized for feeling that way and I told him there was no need to apologize, that I thought he would be foolish to turn down this offer and I don't plan to give him anything other than encouragement. But as I said all this to him, like it wouldn't make a bit of difference to me if he was in Lynch Hollow or New York City, a numbness filled my heart.
“I'll miss it here,” Kyle said. “This is the best place in the world, as far as I'm concerned, but I can't limit myself this way."
I started for the car. “Let's go tell Matt you've decided,” I said, wanting to get away from Kyle. I won't cry about this in front of him. I am 27 years old! I've published 17 books, for pity's sake. I can stand on my own two feet.
September 5, 1954
Kyle is gone. Matt picked him up just an hour ago to drive him to the train. I couldn't go with them and I know Kyle didn't want me to. He didn't even touch me before he left, though he hugged Susanna and patted Daddy's shoulder. Then he said, “Bye, Kate,” and got in the car. I couldn't get to the cave quickly enough to let out my tears.
Oh, Kyle.
Last night he came to the cavern while I was sorting papers on my mattress, nearly done for the night. He carefully piled up my papers, moved them to the table and sat down next to me on the mattress. He looked troubled and I asked him what was wrong.
“I hate leaving you,” he said.
“I'll be fine.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I'm not so sure that I'll be fine without you.”
That surprised me. “You've never needed me,” I said.
He shook his head. “You're so wrong, Kate.” He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the ceiling of the great room high above us. “God, I wish things were different,” he said.
“What things?” I asked. He was confusing me, though I think I understand now what he meant.
“A lot of things,” he said. Then he looked at me. “There's so much about you I admire, but I worry about what you're missing in life.”
“You mean a man,” I said.
“Well, yes, partly. I mean closeness to other people. You keep yourself so isolated.”
“There's Matt,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “There's Matt. And you've overlooked him for so long, as though you think someone better will come along.” He took my hand and held it on his knee. “I know Matt's not your idea of the perfect man for you, but nobody else is going to suddenly appear one day at the entrance to your cave."
“I'm not looking for anyone.”
“But you want children, Kate. I know you do. Marry Matt. Even if he's not perfect for you, he can give you children.”
I was startled by how desperate he sounded, but I laughed and told him I couldn't marry Matt because he would expect me to raise his children in a house, not a cave. I was trying to joke because Kyle was so horribly serious, but he didn't even smile. Instead, he started to cry, sending a terrible shiver through my body. I hugged him and he said, “Kate, I worry so much about you. I worry you'll end up like Mama.”
I pulled away from him quickly. “Don't say that!” I said. “Don't ever say that.”
His cheeks were wet and I tried to dry his tears with my fingertips, then with my lips. I was not thinking. I swear it was only instinct that made me try to kiss away the sadness in his face. I kissed his cheeks, his eyes, all the while aware of a powerful longing growing in my body while he sat perfectly still, barely breath
ing. His eyes were wide open, watching me. I knelt in front of him and pulled his head to my breasts as I kissed his hair and his forehead, and I could feel heat coming from him, pouring from him. I knew what he wanted even if he didn't know it himself.
He grabbed my hands. “Don't,” he said, leaning away from me, but I bent my head low and kissed his neck, his jaw, his ear. “Kate!” he said. “Stop it.”
I tried to stop then, to push myself away from him, but I just couldn't. Even so, I swear it was Kyle who set his mouth on mine first, whose tongue first played with mine. He pressed me back against the mattress, stealing my breath with his kisses. He kissed me furiously, like he was angry with me, but then his lips grew soft and tender against my mouth. After a while he sat back on his knees and I was afraid that he would stand up and walk out on me, but I could see by the look on his face that he had come to a decision, that he was determined to finish what he'd started, and I relaxed.
He began undressing me, very, very slowly, undoing the buttons of my shirt as though they might break if he hurried. He pulled my dungarees and drawers from my legs and then I sat up to take off my brassiere. My hair had fallen over my chest and he lifted it slowly while he lowered his head to my breast. He circled my nipple with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth. I think I said his name then, crying it out, but I'm not sure, because I lost every scrap of reasoning right then. Truly, to that point I felt as though I was in charge of what was happening, but suddenly everything changed and I was in his hands completely.
He laid me back on the mattress again. He was not shy about looking at me and I loved watching his face in the flickery yellow lantern light as his eyes moved over my body.
“You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Kate.” His voice was thick and his face so full of love and need that I started to weep. I knew right then that he was the only man I've ever wanted, that the only reason I'd been interested in Seth Gallagher was because he reminded me of Kyle. I was breathing deep and hard, and I gave a silent prayer of thanks that I'd never done this with Seth or Matt or anyone else, that I was a virgin, 27 years old, and that Kyle would be my first lover.
Secret Lives Page 29