Halt at X: A North of Boston Novel
Page 36
They all watched the fire for a minute. Gabriel stretched and sat up tall on the couch back, eyeing the fire and the dachshund alternately.
“And if Lucinda had resigned after the first car attack last winter, I don’t know whether we’d have gotten the goods on Wickes,” said Aden. “You stood up to him. You were the only staff member who told him what he was doing was wrong. Then told the Executive Committee,” Aden said, smiling. “You irritated the shit out of him.”
Lucinda chuckled. “Yeah. You know, I pictured me and Frank eventually duking it out over the back balcony at Thornbough Hall. Even that night we were wishing Ben Marshallton goodbye and good luck, I had this uncomfortable inkling there was going to be a chasm between us that was going to pull me or Wickes in. Remember, Aden? I wasn’t sure who would fall first. I never would have guessed the way it turned out.” She sipped her eggnog and continued. “I didn’t know that I just needed to stand aside and let the chasm open and watch him tumble in.”
“Took nerves of steel,” said Aden, nodding. “I talk from an inside vantage point. And you did more than just stand aside — you prevented him from messing up the department and pissing off more donors than just Chester. And potentially losing thirty-five million.”
“What about Warren?” Tori asked.
“Awaiting trial,” Lucinda said. “Honor heard he’s surrounded himself with a pack of lawyers.”
“When are you going back?” asked Martin.
“We’re in negotiations,” said Lucinda, watching Aden’s response. He swiveled his gaze toward the fire. “Bomi Singh is stepping in as Interim President/CEO while Honor engages a head hunter. She’s leading the search process this time.”
“Maybe we can get ol’ Benjie back,” said Tori. There were indulgent smiles all around. “No, I’m serious!”
“You serious?” Martin said. Tori playfully tossed a small gold pillow at her husband’s head. He ducked and it landed in the hall. Gretel went off barking after it.
“What about you, Peter?” Martin said. “What will you be up to next year?”
“You know, I think I might head back up to the monastery. I’ve been taking to the abbot about starting a small business loan project, a nonprofit. He’s really psyched about it. I could continue my Buddhist practice and work on the project. I think that would keep me off the street.”
Lucinda eyed her brother. “I think it makes perfect sense that you’re going back now. I really believe you were drawn back home to help Bart and me. And find Bodhi. You plunged right into the fray — hauling Bart to rehab, probably saving his life, and actually engaging in violence — something you abhor — to definitely save mine.”
Lucinda paused and sipped more eggnog. “Now you can return to the monastery and engage yourself with the world, which seems to fit in with that Right Livelihood thing you were talking about months ago. I bet that’s what the abbot meant.”
Peter looked at Lucinda. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I felt this strong pull to go back after they nabbed Stong, which I hadn’t felt since I left. I felt really uncomfortable in Vermont last spring, like I needed to be somewhere else, doing something else, but I couldn’t explain why.”
“You have to listen to those urges,” Tori said. “Like the ones that tell you you’ve married the wrong person. Like me and Dennis. Uggh!” she said. “Or even the right one who isn’t right anymore.” Tori looked at Lucinda, who nodded and raised her glass to her oldest, dearest friend.
“I told the abbot I’d come back under one condition,” Peter said.
There were questioning glances from around the room, even Gretel peered up into Peter’s face.
“That I could bring Bodhi.”
Everyone laughed.
“You’re a man of simple needs,” said Martin. He raised an eggnog to Peter. “Hey, how’d you sneak up on Stong anyway? I would have thought he’d hear you approaching. The dried leaves, shifting your weight onto the boulder?”
“Walking meditation,” Peter said. “Teaches you to walk soundlessly. Like a cat. I did drop the mallet when I heard the first gunshot, which I realized was stupid. Then I flashed on using those posts with the metal insides.”
Tori and Martin left a little after eleven. Peter wandered off to the guest bedroom, leaving Aden and Lucinda in front of the fire. Gabriel was still in standoff mode, but Gretel slept by the hearth.
Aden slipped his arm around Lucinda’s waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.”
She nuzzled against him. He smelled like wood smoke and lyme cologne.
“What’s going to happen to us when you come back as VP?”
“We’ll think of something.”
“I’ll resign,” Aden said. “I’ll go work at one of our competitors. Maybe Hahvahd.”
“Don’t do that! You’ve got a great future at P-H.”
“Well, so do you. Besides, it wouldn’t be as much fun without you. I mean I know we can’t have a relationship and have me report to you, but — ”
“Can I tell you something, Aden? It’s getting a little old for me. I’d actually like to be the one in charge, Executive Director or something. Somewhere else.”
“Really?” Aden said.
“Yeah, maybe, but we’ll work it out. Let’s just get through the transition. Get P-H back on track. We can wing it for a few months.”
Aden frowned at the fire. “Pretend we’re not together?”
“I’m not sure what, but I think a solution will appear.”
“Lucinda, you know how long I’ve waited — ”
“Hey! I’m not going to let you go,” Lucinda whispered, putting her hands on his cheeks. Aden held her tighter.
“Besides,” Lucinda said, we have bigger challenges to work out.”
Aden pulled his face away from her hands, lifting his brows inquisitively.
“Our pets don’t get along,” Lucinda said.
* * * * *
Lucinda brought Lady Grey home in mid-December, telling Tori she needed a horse nearby for Christmas, an ex-racehorse she planned to dance with all the way to Prix St. Georges. With this slip of a gray thoroughbred from doubtful beginnings, Lucinda felt whole again. Even after a two-decade remission, horse fever is incurable, she mused on Christmas Eve while hanging up a green felt stocking outside Lady Grey’s stall and filling it with sugar cubes in the toe, apples in the middle, and carrots sticking out the top.
Aden kept his apartment in Newcester while things settled down at P-H, although he rarely spent the night there. Lucinda studied Training Level Tests 3 and 4 and took her first peek at First Level Tests 1 and 2 on nights when Aden had to work late. She didn’t work late anymore. Well, rarely.
One night in late January, when Lucinda was dead bolting the front door of the farmhouse after acknowledging a benevolent Orion over the orchard, she spied Gabriel and Gretel on the hearth, sound asleep. Gabriel had flung his right front leg out and it lay partially over Gretel’s neck. Gretel shuddered and jerked her short tan legs, chasing, perhaps, a silver-and-black cat in her dreams.
About the Author
Sally Ann Sims, MS, is a writer, artist, and conservation scientist. HALT AT X is her first novel. Learn more at www.sallyannsims.com.
Table of Contents
Chapter One — Hail to the Chiefs
Chapter Two — Off Track
Chapter Three — RaiseSmart
Chapter Four — Nanogirl
Chapter Five — Over the Line
Chapter Six — Pocket Pal
Chapter Seven — Broken Wings
Chapter Eight — Windward Willows
Chapter Nine — A Man from India
Chapter Ten — Cappuccino Fumes
Chapter Eleven — Gull’s Eye
Chapter Twelve — Mirror, Mirror
Chapter Thirteen — First Kiss
Chapter Fourteen — Orion
Chapter Fifteen — Getting Ugly
Chapter Sixteen — Diamonds on the Sea
Chapter
Seventeen — For or Against?
Chapter Eighteen — Purple and Orange
Chapter Nineteen — Brilliant or an Idiot
Chapter Twenty — Collateral
Chapter Twenty-One — Breakfast Rainbow
Chapter Twenty-Two — Hot Equine Accessory
Chapter Twenty-Three — Jetty Dreams
Chapter Twenty-Four — Hold the Story
Chapter Twenty-Five — Art d’Argenta
Chapter Twenty-Six — Check
Chapter Twenty-Seven — Human Male Company
Chapter Twenty-Eight — Tiger in the Night
Chapter Twenty-Nine — Ready to Talk
Chapter Thirty — By the Boardwalk
Chapter Thirty-One — Brain Steam
Chapter Thirty-Two — Beach Race
Chapter Thirty-Three — Good Energy
Chapter Thirty-Four — The Shredder’s On
Chapter Thirty-Five — Halt at X
Chapter Thirty-Six — Comparing Wounds
Chapter Thirty-Seven — Number Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight — Between Orchard and Sea
About the Author