Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [100]
Edna, it seemed, had held a grudge their whole lives, and all the crimes she’d committed were poorly-thought-out attempts to frame Mimsey. As for Hawthorne, it turned out Edna and he had indulged in a wild affair that had ended badly, so knocking off the gardener had seemed a convenient way for Edna to turn much greater suspicion toward Mimsey when her other feeble tries had failed.
Despite the shock of finding out that Edna was apparently crazy, Riley’s emotions instead focused on what she’d learned about her aunt.
Riley sat across from Aunt Mimsey at the table on the back porch, utterly stunned. Sweet, docile Aunt Mimsey had been a boyfriend-stealer in high school? It seemed impossible.
Yet, on the other hand, she supposed it had been meant to be. She’d never known two people more dear to each other than Mimsey and Walter had been before his death. So maybe, she thought, even if a relationship seemed a bit illicit in the beginning, it could be worthwhile and have a meaningful ending. Maybe life was not as cut and dried, as black and white, as Riley had always thought.
“Are you okay?” Aunt Mimsey asked, setting down her teacup to take Riley’s hand.
Riley nodded, still a bit numb. “Just hard to picture you as a girl who would go after a friend’s guy. Not that I love you any less for it,” she was quick to say. “I’m just . . . trying to wrap my mind around it.”
“Think of it like this,” her aunt said. “The way you feel about your Sloane, no matter how you deny it—that’s how I felt about my Walter, even then. I didn’t want to be that kind of girl, but it was bigger than the both of us.”
Riley nodded somberly, even if she still wasn’t comfortable admitting her affection for Sloane. “I understand. I guess I’m just . . . starting to realize there are sides of you I don’t know.”
Aunt Mimsey cast a knowing, assured smile.“Well, of course there are, dear. Everyone has secrets. Everyone has desires they can’t push down. We may not talk about them, but they exist quietly, in the background, and life goes on.”
That evening, Laura and Braden prepared an easy meal of burgers and fries, tired after skiing. The mood was relaxed as they sat down at the table, but Laura couldn’t help remembering she was leaving in the morning. Somehow her departure had snuck up fast.
“What time is your flight?”
She swirled a fry in ketchup. “Eleven fifteen.”
“Eagle’s a small airport. If you get there an hour early, you’ll be fine. I’ll drive you down.”
She drew in her breath at the offer, at the chance to spend one more little chunk of time with him. But then she imagined the anguish of kisses in the airport, the stretching-out of it, the painful finality of it all. She’d do better if she left on her own—and besides, it was more practical. “No,” she said, explaining, “I have to return the rental or you’ll be stuck with two.”
“I don’t mind. I could return your car for you and get Tommy to pick me up.”
But she held firm. “It’s not necessary,” she said, peering down at her plate, then taking a big bite of her hamburger to distract her from the slight awkwardness of the refusal.
He sounded reluctant but said, “Okay, if you’re sure.”
She tried to speak lightly. “When will you head out?”
He sighed, leaned back in his chair. “I think I’ll hang out a few days more, unwind, watch the snow, veg a little.” Then he grinned, teasing her. “You’ve worn me out.”
She flashed a sexy smile, thinking she hoped to wear him out again, at least one more time, before the sun rose.
“So how’s the book? Did I ruin your writer’s retreat too badly?” He looked as if he might have mixed emotions on it—she suspected he hoped it was going well but would also take some arrogant pride in learning she’d not managed to accomplish much amid all their naughty play.
“I’ll have you know it’s almost finished, and I’m very pleased with it. I have to write the last chapter after I get home, but it won’t take long now, and I’m actually going to make my deadline.” A giddy sort of