by Lin Stepp
He gave her a patient look. “Rhea, I’m an only child, too. And you and I both know my parents, my Grampa, your mother and Nana Dean—and the hired help—could have successfully kept Laurel Springs going for a few years while we were in school.”
Rhea didn’t like this line of thought. She set her jaw stubbornly. “You weren’t here, Carter. You don’t know what it was like.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Carter sighed and picked up his laptop. “Hey. Check this out, Rhea.” He typed in a phrase and then pulled up a screen.
Rhea put a hand on one hip with exasperation. “You’re going to change the subject—just like that?”
He shrugged. “It seemed like we’d accomplished about all we could with it. And I don’t want to fight.” He gave her a pleading look. “I want to try to be friends again.”
She avoided a response.
In the quiet, Carter put a hand up to his head and winced.
The movement instantly caught her attention. “Are you hurting? Are you all right?”
He rubbed his head. “Every now and then I get a twinge. I got a pretty good whop last night.”
Standing up, she walked over to examine his head. She parted his hair with her fingers and felt the huge knot where he’d been struck.
Rhea sucked in a breath. “What happened?”
“I stopped by the Costner ruins on my way back from your house. I wanted to think.” His eyes caught hers, and she realized she stood too close.
Stepping back, she sat down in the chair again.
He grinned at her, recognizing the defensive move for what it was.
“Tell me what happened,” she insisted.
He rubbed his neck. “It’s a short story. I sat down in front of the old chimney in the dark. After a while, I remember shifting around, kicking at a pinecone, making some racket in the quiet.” His voice trailed off. “Just afterward I heard some noise in the brush. I thought it was probably a raccoon or another critter, but I stood up to look around and see.”
Carter put a hand to his head. “I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Before I could turn around, I got whacked soundly and knocked unconscious for a few minutes.”
Rhea leaned forward. “Did you see anyone?”
He shook his head. “Before I fell, I saw a man dressed in dark clothes fleeing into the brush, but that was all.”
“You’re sure it was a man?”
“The shape and height were wrong for a woman. I’m almost sure it was a man, and the clothes I glimpsed looked like those of a man.” His eyes met hers. “He wore that ski mask I’ve been hearing about. No one wears a ski mask in the summer, Rhea.”
She threaded her hands through her hair. “Then it probably was the same vandal people saw at other times.” She bit on a nail. “But why do you think he attacked you?”
“I’ve thought about that.” He scratched his forehead. “My guess is I startled him. I don’t think he expected to find anyone at the cabin ruins that late—just sitting in the dark. Maybe when I kicked at the pinecone, he heard me. When I stood up, he probably panicked. He realized I might see him, possibly recognize him, or that I might pursue him.”
Rhea snorted. “That’s an understatement. You definitely would have pursued him if you’d seen him and you know it.”
“Well, I didn’t get the chance.” He sounded annoyed and rubbed his head again. “He hit me with one heck of a stick, too. Ellie said he could have seriously injured me if the blow had been to the side of my head or lower on the back.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the idea of having someone that dangerous lurking around Laurel Springs.”
“Me neither.” She straightened the items on his bedside table distractedly. “What can we do?”
“Not much. Be more careful.” He pushed at the pillow behind him to straighten it. “We changed Hiram’s hours so he can guard the gate from close to midnight every night. And Billy Wade and Dad are trading shifts each night to drive or walk around the grounds to check things. There’s not much else we can do.”
He heard her sigh. “Don’t worry. The vandal might have been scared off by this incident. This could be the end of it.”
“I hope so.”
“Here. Let’s think about something else.” Carter turned his laptop toward her. “Take a look at this YouTube clip about the future of gaming.”
Rhea smiled. Carter seldom liked to focus on gloom and doom for long. He patted the bed beside him. Curious, Rhea came over to study the computer screen.
Carter pointed to the image in front of them. “This is a clip about Project Omega, the new future for video gaming. There’s no controller required. It’s going to be a whole new way to play video games by voice, hand motions, body movements.” He gave her one of his white-toothed grins. He’d never worn braces, but his teeth were toothpaste-commercial perfect, like so many things about him.
Rhea moved her eyes to the screen, where Carter had activated the YouTube demonstration. He talked over the onscreen voices. “This new aspect of gaming gets the participant off the couch and into the game even more than we’re seeing now.” He pointed to the ongoing computer action. “See, a person can drive a race car with their hand movements without a controller, or send a soccer ball down the field by kicking it with their own feet, or even play game shows by pressing an imaginary buzzer in their lap.”
He laughed. “It’s great, isn’t it?” He punched her like old times. “Here, you’ll love this part. See how this girl can pick a dress and actually view how it will look on her as she swirls and turns in front of the television screen?”
“However do they do that?” Rhea felt amazed at what she saw.
Carter laughed again. “It’s too technical to readily explain, but it’s going to revolutionize the whole industry of gaming.” He clicked off the YouTube video. “Quest is in on the cutting edge of this. We’ve got games already in the works that will debut when the new EOne system comes out to support them.”
He grinned. “Our programmers have a Grand Prix race ready to market and I’ve been previewing parts of an undersea game we’re publishing with mermen and mermaids in it.”
She got caught up in his enthusiasm. “How will a sea game be interactive like the examples we saw?”
He made excited arm gestures. “You’ll be able to swim and turn, fight off octopi and jellyfish, dive or paddle with your arms to get over or around obstacles. It will be great!”
Rhea watched the animation in his face. “You really love doing this, don’t you?”
“Well, sure. And it’s exciting to be on the cutting edge when something new is coming out.”
She remembered Taylor’s comments about Dutchie and Jinx earlier. “Did you really put Dutchie in one of your video games?”
He looked at her in an odd way. “Haven’t you ever looked at the Time Traveler games, Rhea?”
She shifted her eyes from his. “No. You know I’ve never been as much into games as you.”
“No, but you used to enjoy them.” His fingers tapped the keyboard thoughtfully, and she heard him sigh. “You’ve just avoided the whole thing because of me, haven’t you?”
Rhea hesitated, not wanting to answer. Finally, she said, “I’ve been busy, Carter.”
His reply was soft. “I see.”
He closed the laptop slowly, and Rhea found herself feeling like a heel. This was the world he loved and worked in, and she’d totally avoided following his progress in it since he married simply from bitterness and anger. Not wanting to see his games or think of him. She’d even hated the gaming industry many times for drawing Carter away from her. For taking him to California. For leading him to Judith.
The words of the morning’s sermon flashed across her mind, convicting her again. She winced inwardly. Perhaps she’d carried her resentments a little too far.
Rhea hunted for words to soothe the situation. “Listen. I’m sorry I haven’t watched your games.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “It was spiteful of me
.”
The quiet in the room stretched for a long time before Carter answered softly. “It’s okay, Rhea. I think I understand a little.”
She hated to look up and meet his eyes. Once she’d been the biggest supporter and encourager of his dreams. She studied all his early boyhood game ideas, adding her enthusiastic suggestions to his as he inventively created each imaginary plot or character. She’d thrilled and celebrated with him when the concept of his mountain adventure game helped him win a scholarship to the design college in Silicon Valley.
In his first year at school, he’d called, written her letters, and e-mailed her continuously about his new school and all he was learning. She remembered his excitement when his mountain adventure concept was translated into a real video game for Quest. The next summer, he hadn’t been able to come home to Laurel Springs because the game, Mountain Quest, was nearly ready to come out. She knew he’d created several other adventure games after that, but she didn’t even know the names. Billy Wade owned all of them and talked about them often, but she’d never paid much attention.
Guilt washed over her. “I’m glad your games became a success. I’ve seen them at Billy Wade and Jeannie’s. Billy Wade loves them, especially the one about finding gold.”
He watched her with sad eyes now.
An understanding suddenly flashed in Rhea’s mind. “It was while creating the game about gold that you learned so much about gold mining here in the Smokies, wasn’t it? Like you shared on the tour?”
He nodded. “We named it Gold Quest. I do a lot of research while creating a new game. It’s sort of like writing a book. The developer or lead designer comes up with a premise for a game, writes the story line, backstory, and script to tell the narrative. He sketches the characters, good and bad, develops the conflicts, and the levels of play. Extensive research comes in at several stages in the process of developing the game’s setting, characters, sound effects, and even regional voices—to make it realistic.”
His mind seemed to drift to another place. “Then the developer collaborates with the programming team as they work for about a year to bring the game to life three-dimensionally.” She watched a smile drift across his face. “Alvin Johnson, the young man from Ohio who won the other scholarship with Quest, became my main teammate.”
A memory flashed back across Rhea’s mind. “Alvin was the one you roomed with near the college, wasn’t he? The one who became such a good friend to you?”
He looked her way, seeming to come back to himself. “Yes, Alvin and I developed a strong friendship learning the gaming business, through our studies in school, and through our ongoing work with Quest as work-study scholarship recipients. Alvin’s gift is programming, mine developing. We were chosen by Morgan Benton with those dual talents in mind.” His fingers played on the laptop keyboard restlessly. “Alvin and I made Mountain Quest come to life that first year, then Gold Quest and Cave Quest over the next years. After graduation, we both stayed with the company and created the Time Traveler games together. We’re still a team.”
It was obvious Carter missed him. Rhea remembered hearing so much about Alvin that first year while Carter lived away. It dawned on her for the first time what Carter might have given up to come back here. Why had he done that? He was rich and famous. He had new dreams to pursue now, probably better than his old dream to fix up Laurel Springs—a broken-down assembly grounds in a rural backwoods area of the Smokies.
Not wanting to voice these thoughts, Rhea shifted the conversation to another area of Carter’s interest. “Tell me about the Time Traveler games that have Dutchie and Jinx in them, the games that are going to become movies.”
He smiled at her. “Better than telling you about them, I’ll show you.” He closed the computer and started to swing his bare legs out from under the bedcovers.
“Whoa!” Rhea put out a hand. “You’re supposed to rest in bed today. I’m not going to have you climbing out of bed on my shift, so that I get in trouble with your mother.”
He stuck his legs back under the covers with reluctance. “Okay, you win.” He sighed. “But you’ll have to walk down the hall to Taylor’s room to find the Time Traveler games I want to show you. I think they’re on his bookshelf.”
Carter grinned. “If they’re not on the shelf, dig around in his room. They might be under a pile of stuffed animals or crammed under a bunch of picture books. Taylor isn’t always the neatest kid. And Beau spent the night last night. The room might be a little messy.”
“Takes after his dad, huh?” Rhea avoided his swat as she started out of the room.
He laughed. “I’ve got a game console, TV, and controllers in here. I can show you a glimpse of what Dutchie and Jinx look like on the game screen when you get back.”
The old guest room down the hall had been converted into a charming little boy’s room, filled with airplanes, cars, books, and toys. Rhea walked around the room, looking for the Traveler video games.
She found them at last, crammed under a thick book on top of an old maple desk that had been in the Layman house for years. Moving the book, Rhea’s attention was captured by the words Photo Album.
Taylor bounded into the room just then. “Hi, Rhea. Dad said you were here looking for the Traveler games. Did you find them?”
She nodded as he walked over beside her. “That’s my photo book,” he told her, grinning with a white-toothed smile much like his father’s.
“Wanna see my mom and our house in California?” He flipped open the photo album on the desk before Rhea could answer.
“That’s me when I was born.” He pointed to a photo on the first page. “And that’s my mom holding me. And there’s Dad.”
He flipped another page. “Here’s my Grandaddy Benton and there’s the Benton house where we lived all the time I was little.”
Rhea suppressed a smile. He talked as though six was terribly old.
“There’s my mom all dressed up for a party.” Rhea looked down at a photo of a sleek, beautiful woman, her perfectly coifed hair parted in the middle and tucked behind ears studded with glistening diamonds.
A pain welled around her heart.
“She was real pretty, wasn’t she?” Taylor’s voice softened. He sighed. “I miss her and my Grandaddy Benton.”
Rhea searched for something to say. “That’s a big house.” She looked at the gigantic, palatial home spreading at the end of a long drive.
“Yeah, it’s huge.” He grinned. “It’s so big we lived in one whole part of it and hardly ever saw my grandaddy unless we wanted to. I think our part was called a wing—you know, like on an airplane.”
“I see.”
Taylor flipped pages in excitement, pointing out pictures of him growing from baby years to school age, drawing her attention to happy photos of him and his dad playing in the yard and having good times together. Rhea noticed after a while that the pictures of Taylor’s mother grew less frequent. In one, she lay in bed, looking pale, books and drawings scattered around her.
“That’s one of the last pictures of my mom she’d let us take. She was working on her clothing designs. She drew ladies’ dresses and things. Lots of shops carried her stuff after they got sewed up.” Taylor put out a finger to touch her picture. “She started getting really sick after this.” He sighed. “I don’t remember her much at all except sick.”
Rhea struggled to find something to say. “That must have been hard.”
He nodded and heaved a very grown-up sigh. Then he flipped to the end of the book.
“This is our new house. Dad bought it after Mom died and we moved there.” His finger touched a simpler white bungalow, old-fashioned and homey in design compared to the elegant Benton mansion. “He said we needed a change and a place of our own.”
Rhea studied it, not knowing what to say.
“It’s near the beach and we can walk down a couple of streets and be at a park right by the ocean. Jinx likes to go there and run.” He looked up at Rhea with an engaging sm
ile. “I like it there, too.”
Rhea picked up the Traveler games. “We’d better be getting back to check on your dad.”
He skipped ahead of her back to Carter’s room.
The next half hour was a small nightmare as Rhea listened to Carter and Taylor tell her with enthusiasm about the Time Traveler games they previewed for her on the television screen. The dogs in the video games did look like Dutchie and Jinx, even in animation.
Carter pointed at the beginning scenes of one of the games. “The basic plot in the Traveler games is about two humans who move through time to impact lives and change the future. While time traveling, they can shape-shift—as needed—into their dog counterparts.” Carter directed her attention to a dark-haired man on the screen. “This is mild-mannered Jacob Farley, who has his own investigative agency, but kind of like a Superman character, he possesses another unknown identity.”
Taylor pointed to a woman character with enthusiasm. “That’s Dinah McNabb, Jacob Farley’s assistant and his girlfriend.” He looked at Rhea. “She looks kind of like you.”
“I see that.” Rhea pasted on an interested smile, but her thoughts were back in Taylor’s room with the photo album.
After an appropriate interval, Rhea rose, trying not to seem too eager to leave. “I really need to get back home now. Thanks for showing me the games. The dog really does look like Dutchie. I’ll have to tell her she’s a famous celebrity and will soon be a movie star.”
Taylor laughed and chattered as she prepared to go, but Rhea noticed Carter watching her carefully now.
“I’m going to be fine, Rhea,” he said, misinterpreting her anxiousness.
She tried another smile. “I’m sure you are and you be sure and rest.” She picked up the cake dish and the empty milk glass to carry back down to the kitchen.
“Thank Nana Dean for the cake.” Carter reached out a hand toward her, but Rhea edged out the door, avoiding his touch.
Loading Dutchie into the car and escaping from the Layman house at last, Rhea let the held-back tears spill over. How could Carter find her attractive at all after being married to such a beauty? Privileged and gifted—an established clothing designer from what Taylor said.
