The Cabin. Carla Neggers

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      She ignored his sarcasm. “Yes.” She sipped her drink, which she noticed was not as strong as her first one. “My roots are there.”

      “Roots, my ass. Iris and your dad haven’t lived in the Adirondacks in, what, sixty years?”

      He shook his head, plainly mystified by this latest move of hers. He hadn’t liked it when she’d set up her office in Boston with Tess, his daughter who was a graphic artist, then stayed on her own after Tess had moved up to her nineteenth-century carriage house on the north shore with her new family. Office space implied a permanence Jim Haviland didn’t want Susanna to establish in Boston. He wanted her back with her husband. It was the way his world worked.

      Hers, too, but life wasn’t always that simple.

      Plus, she knew Jim liked Lieutenant Jack Galway, Texas Ranger. No surprise there. They were both men who saw most things in terms of black and white.

      Jim wiped down the bar with his white towel, putting muscle into the effort, as if somehow it might relieve his frustrations with her and make him understand why she’d bought a cabin. “The Adirondacks are what, a five, six-hour drive?”

      “About that.” Susanna drank more of her margarita. “I got my pilot’s license this fall. Jack doesn’t know. Maybe I’ll buy a plane. There’s a nice little airport in Lake Placid.”

      Jim stared at her, assessing. “A cabin in the mountains, a plane, black cashmere—how much damn money do you have?”

      Her stomach twisted into an instantaneous knot.

      She had ten million as of the first of October. It was a milestone. People knew she was doing well, but few had any idea how well—not even her own husband. She just didn’t talk about it. She didn’t want money clouding anyone’s opinion of her. Of themselves. She didn’t want it to change her life, except maybe it already had. “I’ve made some lucky investments,” she told Jim.

      “Ha. I’ll bet luck had nothing to do with it. You’re smart, Susanna Dunning Galway. You’re smart, and you’re tough, and—” He paused for air, which he sucked in, then heaved out in a despairing sigh. “Damn it, Susanna, you have no goddamn business buying a cabin in the Adirondacks. Jack doesn’t know?”

      “You don’t give up, do you?”

      “That means, no, Jack doesn’t know. What are you doing, trying to piss him off to the point he gives up on you—or comes up here to fetch you?”

      “He’s not coming up here to fetch me.”

      “Don’t count on it.”

      A young couple wandered in and sat at one of the tables, hanging on to each other, not bothering with First Night festivities, Susanna thought, for very different reasons than hers. Jim greeted them warmly and went around the bar to take their order, but he stopped to glower back at her. “Did you tell Iris you were buying a place in her old stomping grounds, give her a chance to weigh in?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “No, you didn’t, because you’re bullheaded and do what you damn well want to do.”

      “I’m not selfish—”

      “I didn’t say you were selfish. You’re one of the kindest, most generous people I know. I said you’re bullheaded.”

      Her head spun. Maybe she should have consulted Jack. His name wasn’t on the deed but they were still married. She planned to get around to telling him—it wasn’t like her cabin was a secret. Not really. When she was on Blackwater Lake, her husband and her marriage weren’t the issue. The cabin was about her, her life, her roots. She couldn’t explain. She’d almost felt as if she’d been destined to go up there, see the lake on her own, that somehow it would help her make sense of the past fourteen months.

      Jim took the couple’s order and headed back behind the bar. Before she said another word, he dipped her up a bowl of steaming chili and set it in front of her. “You need something in your stomach.”

      “I really want another margarita.”

      “Not a chance.”

      “I live up the street.” She stared at the chili, spicy and hot on a very cold Boston night. But she wasn’t hungry. “If I pass out in a ditch, somebody will find me before I freeze to death.”

      Jim refrained from answering. Davey Ahearn had come into the bar, easing onto his favorite stool just down from Susanna. Susanna could feel the cold still coming off him. He shook his head at her. “Pain in the ass you are, Suzie, I wouldn’t count on it. We all might leave you in the damn ditch, hope the cold’ll jump-start your brain and you’ll go back to Texas.”

      “The cold weather doesn’t bother me.”

      Of course, the cold wasn’t Davey’s point at all, and she knew it. He was a big man, a plumber with a huge handlebar mustache and at least two ex-wives. He was another of her father’s boyhood friends, godfather to Jim Haviland’s daughter, Tess, and a constant thorn in Susanna’s side. Tess said it was best not to encourage Davey Ahearn by trying to argue with him, but Susanna seldom could resist—and neither could Tess.

      He ordered a beer and a bowl of chili with saltines, and Susanna made an exaggerated face. “Saltines and chili? That’s disgusting.”

      “What’re you doing here, anyway?” Davey shivered, as if still shaking off the frigid temperatures. Boston had been in the grips of a bitter cold snap for days, and even the natives had had enough. “Go play mahjong with Iris and her pals. A million years old, and they know how to party.”

      “You’re right,” Susanna said. “It’s not a good sign, me sitting in a Somerville bar drinking margaritas and eating chili with a cranky plumber.”

      Davey grinned at her. “I eat chili with a fork.”

      She bit back an unwilling laugh. “That’s really bad, Davey. I mean, really bad.”

      “Made you smile.” His beer and nightly special arrived, and he unwrapped three packets of saltine crackers and crumbled them onto his chili, paying no attention to Susanna’s groan. “Jimmy, how long before we can stick a fork in this year?”

      “Twenty-five minutes,” Jim said. “I thought you had a date.”

      “I did. She got mad and went home.”

      Although she wasn’t hungry, Susanna tried some of her chili. “Davey Ahearn annoying a woman? I can’t imagine.”

      “Was that sarcasm, Mrs. Jack Galway?”

      Jim intervened. “All right, you two. I’m opening a bottle of bubbly at midnight. It’s on the house. What do we have, a half-dozen people in here?”

      He lined up the glasses on the bar. Susanna watched him work, the chili burning in her mouth, the two margaritas she’d consumed on an empty stomach making her a little woozy. “Do you think I had kids too young?” Susanna asked abruptly, without thinking. It had to be the margaritas. “I don’t. I think it was just what happened. I was twenty-two, and all of a sudden, I’m pregnant with twins.”

      “I bet it wasn’t all of a sudden,” Davey said.

      She СКАЧАТЬ