Beautiful Affliction(20)

"I used to meet my dad at a bar every day when he got off work, and we'd play pool. None of the regulars would play us after a while, but once in a while a new person would wander in and my dad would win a few bucks," I explain.

"She's a shark!" Mark says, shaking his head ruefully as Mr. Redmond guffaws.

"I honestly had no idea, I swear to you," he says. I look around at the table. I've sunk everything but the 8 ball, and it's tucked away between two striped balls and impossible to get to. I tap the cue ball against them to avoid a scratch, and to set up Kristine in a tough position.

"I have a feeling I'm going to be polishing some silver," she says good-naturedly as she attempts to set up a shot. She doesn't manage to sink a ball, but it would have been a tough position for even a good player. Mr. Redmond steps forward and sizes up the situation.

"Can you imagine if you missed this shot, after Cora sunk all those balls?" Mark asks him jokingly, trying to get in his head.

"8 ball, corner pocket," Mr. Redmond replies with a smile, indicating the pocket just below where I'm standing. He bends over, smoothly guiding the cue through his long fingers, his arms steady in his fine sweater. He lines up his shot, then at the last second looks up at me, holding my gaze as he pulls the cue back and then cleanly slides it forward, sending the 8 ball into the pocket with a clean crack. A shiver runs through me as he stands.

"Best two out of three?" he asks, turning to Mark with a wolfish grin. Mark groans in reply.

We end up playing four more games, and Mr. Redmond and I win all of them. True to their word, Kristine and Mark insist on heading back upstairs to finish my work on the silver. Mr. Redmond lags behind in the basement as I instruct the couple on the proper cleaning technique of the tea set. He emerges with a bottle of red wine in hand and takes out wine glasses from the cupboard.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Mark says, spotting him working a corkscrew into the bottle.

Mr. Redmond shrugs. "What do I have it for, if not to share?"

"Cora, you think I could shine my ring with this stuff?" Kristine asks, waving the huge sparkler on her left hand.

"Um, I'm not sure…is that silver?"

"Platinum," she says with a smile.

"Of course," Mark says, rolling his eyes.

"If I left it up to him, he would have gotten me an amethyst set in gold, or something," she says pointedly.

"Engagement rings weren't even popular until the De Beers company—" Mark begins.

"I like it," Kristine cuts him off. I smile politely. Kristine is charming and beautiful, but she's certainly got an edge to her. While I was content with being on the fringes in high school, I bet she was the queen bee in the center of it all. I turn to Mr. Redmond, who is now pouring out the wine, and see that he's taken out four glasses.

I shake my head. "I think I've drunk enough of your expensive wine," I tell him.

"Oh?" Kristine asks from the table, her eyes flicking between us. Was that a glimmer of jealousy I just saw?

"Mr. Redmond let me try a couple bottles that were already open," I clarify, hoping I'm not blushing. I definitely should not have brought that up.

"You sure?" he asks, the bottle poised over the fourth glass.

I nod. "And since you two are doing such a great job in here, I better keep going with my work. Excuse me," I say with a smile, not wanting to overstay my welcome.

"Bye!" Kristine and Mark call after me as I head down the hallway. They were very kind, but I'm not really a member of their group, and I never will be.





Chapter Eleven





The man turns around to look toward the back of the bus again where I'm sitting. His eyes keep wandering over to me, and I think I noticed him following me all the way back in the supermarket in town. If he looks like he's going to get off at the same stop as me, I'll sit back down and call the police. I memorize his facial lines and his clothing just in case.

I realize that we're crossing the bridge over Cedar Lake and peer down into the murky waves. It's a large body of water, with a few boats sailing on it from the yacht club, and the water looks slightly choppy from the wind today. The bridge connects the wealthiest neighborhood of Norwich¸ where the Redmond estate is, with the rest of the town. The bus stops just on the edge of it, and then continues in a circuitous path around the lake.

As we reach the other side of the bridge, I press the stop button and gather the straps of the grocery bags. I check to see if the man looks like he's getting up: I have to pass him in order to get off the bus. The bus pulls over to the side of the road, lurching slightly, and I stand up. The man's head turns slightly, but he doesn't move. I walk with more confidence than I feel up to the front of the bus. I can see in my periphery that he has remained seated, though he's staring at me. I step out onto the sidewalk, and the bus doors close after me, and it pulls away with him still inside.