Stash (26 page)

But Jude could not deny the quality of Aaron’s work. The harvested plants were dried, bagged, and stacked neatly on the kitchen table. The grow room was clean. The new plants aligned beneath the lights. Even the living quarters were clean: Aaron had made his bed, no crusty dishes lined the kitchen sink.

“Looks good,” Jude said. “Let’s load up.”

He disassembled the rear of the van as he had in Montreal. When Aaron saw the packages lining the cargo hold his eyes widened like a kid’s in a candy shop.

Jude gave one to Aaron. “For you. A sampler.”

He also handed Aaron an envelope containing cash. “There’s extra. You did a good job getting this together in a short time.”

Aaron brought out the plastic bags of weed and Jude made room for them in the hold, arranging the packages and squeezing the last few bags in. He zipped the filter fabric closed and replaced the floor and panels.

Aaron went back inside and returned with a small stack of mail and handed it to Jude.

“I stopped at the post office in town. Mostly just bills addressed to Claire,” Aaron said.

“How’s the propane usage?”

“The guy comes every other week and I’ve been giving him the extra hundred each time.”

“He’s never been inside?”

“Hell no.”

“Up him to two hundred. We need him on our side.”

“Those buds could have used more drying,” Aaron said. “Some of the weight might shrink out but we ran out of time.”

“Not a problem. I’m moving the whole lot tonight. It will be divided and dispersed within a few days.”

“You want to taste it?”

“We should.”

They went back up on the porch. Aaron produced a joint, lit, and passed to Jude who took one hit and handed it back. “A lot better than what I used to get,” he said.

Aaron took a long hit and held it out for Jude, who held up his hand to say no. He had to stay clearheaded.

“How’s the pain?” Jude asked.

“Doing better.”

“You been in touch with your doctors about the surgery?”

“They haven’t called. I don’t think I’m at the top of their list. There’s all this paperwork I don’t have.”

“So do they owe you a call or do you owe them paperwork?”

Aaron looked unsure. Jude thought about Alfred Haynes, the congressman who owed Jude a favor.

“You want me to put in a call for you? We could bypass the whole military chain of command, find you the best doctors, and get you fixed up right.”

“That would be cool.” But no real enthusiasm there.

“I’ll pay for it,” Jude said. “You shouldn’t have to go through this. You’ve been loyal to me and I repay loyalty.” He completed a slow scan of the property, turning three-sixty, nothing but woods all about.

“You get out of here ever? You visit your friends in Glens Falls?”

“I get out enough.”

“After I get this run established I’ll have you drive and deliver,” Jude said.

“Yeah, okay.”

Again, the lifeless response.

Jude took a last look around. The mums Aaron had planted radiated with color, casting a brighter outlook on the entire day. His low mood from dropping off Roxanne improved; he chose to believe Leonard would love her. He believed he could help Aaron. He was ahead of schedule and had plenty of time to fuel up and deliver to Sweet.

Brian had come home early yesterday and told Gwen he was taking the next day off and the kids could, too, so what if they’d only been in school a few days. They were going to the lake for the long weekend they didn’t get to enjoy last time. He needed time with his family, he said. He needed the new scenery. Mostly he needed to get past their argument over Gwen stepping out to see Jude at Gull. He was angry about her decision to go but ultimately she’d done the right thing by not saying anything to Gates about the police. It was time to reconnect with his wife.

Gwen was all for it.

By the time they arrived at the house night had fallen, a web of stars pricking the sky above the tall pines around their house and reflecting on the still surface of the lake. Brian turned on the outdoor lights to illuminate the fire pit and dock, and he sent Nate and Nora out with flashlights to hunt for downed sticks and branches for a fire. Get ones with no leaves, he reminded them.

The kids gathered wood while Brian helped Gwen unload the car. The house smelled musty, and they walked from room to room, turning on lights and opening windows. A kitchen and living area with picture windows dominated the first floor, with a den to one side. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a bath. They had purchased the house furnished, from beds and towels to
kitchen utensils and games and books. That helped make the deal more attractive—she and Brian wouldn’t have to spend weeks trying to furnish and supply a second house.

To one side of the house a scramble of granite formed a small peninsula into the lake. On the other side stood a boathouse they shared with their neighbor, although Brian and Gwen didn’t own a boat. Between the peninsula and boathouse a beach of sandy grass and pebbles lined the water’s edge.

Brian built a fire from a tepee of dried sticks and they roasted marshmallows on branches he cut from saplings. A breeze picked up, fanning the flames and heat toward their blanket. Gwen moved the blanket to the other side. Still, they needed sweatshirts because any body part not facing the fire got chilled. When the kids had their fill of marshmallows and started to argue about who had counted more stars, Gwen broke up the party and called bedtime.

Once the kids were down, there was nothing for Gwen and Brian to do except go to bed themselves. There was no television. No picking up to do, no laundry to fold.

“Should I go down and get a bottle of wine?” Brian asked.

“Not if you’re going to stay mad at me.”

“It’s not that.”

“You haven’t looked at me since we’ve been here. You’re like staring off into space, and I don’t mean counting the stars.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still at work.”

He stood by the open bedroom window. She got up and joined him. A bent tree rooted in moss and granite leaned over the black water.

Brian mentioned there was a possibility he could lose his job. He told her about the story in the
Times
, his confrontational meeting with Stephen and Jennifer, the potential FDA scrutiny of Caladon’s marketing practices.

“You haven’t been doing anything illegal, have you? I mean, that can get you into trouble.”

“Not personally, I don’t think. It’s such a gray area, there’s no way of knowing. It really goes back to the day drug companies won the right to advertise directly to consumers. The industry became a free-for-all, with patients demanding certain drugs for all kinds of conditions. And it’s only gotten worse with the Internet.”

“What about our stock options?”

“Yesterday I cashed in everything vested and sold the shares we had. I’m not taking chances. The worst case is the whole company takes a hit.”

“When I see you unhappy like this I keep thinking I’m the one who made you leave medical school,” Gwen said.

“We’ve been through this many times. You didn’t make me do anything. I was looking for an out.”

“You wanted to go to Africa to provide medical care to the poor. How noble can you get?”

Brian smirked. “You don’t think marketing pharma is a noble calling?” he said. “We made decisions together, Gwen. We chose it all. Together.”

“I could get a job to take some of the pressure off. I was speaking with Amy Hellman. She has a real estate business and is looking to bring on another agent. I could take the course and be licensed in like eight weeks.”

“What about the kids?”

“A lot of the work is on the weekends and during school hours.”

“You’ve been telling me we already don’t have enough time together.”

“It feels more like you don’t want to make time for me.”

He put an arm around her. “Am I not the one who invited you to a glass of wine a short while ago?”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“I don’t want you to work, unless you really want to or have to. For now I’m still employed.”

“No wonder you’re so stressed. Come here.” She held him and kissed his neck and told him she loved him completely. How long had it been since she’d said that to her husband? It felt so good:
Brian, I love you completely
.

“That’s mostly what I need to hear,” he said.

“I know my situation hasn’t made things easier for us.”

He nodded, but said, “And I know you’ve been put in a difficult position. I admire your principles and your wanting to do the right thing.”

“Let’s not talk about this now. I want to get into bed.”

“I’ll get that bottle of wine,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

A car passed on the road, the headlights shining into their bedroom as the vehicle rounded the curve. Brian lowered the shades and went downstairs to get the wine and two glasses. She heard him opening and closing cabinet doors. When he came back up she heard him look in on the kids in the twin beds on either side of a window facing the lake. He came down the hall to their bedroom and stopped in the doorway.

Gwen had changed into a nightshirt, gotten in her side of the bed, put on her reading glasses, and opened her novel.

“Wait a minute—didn’t we just agree on a plan that involved wine and kissing?” Brian said.

“We did.”

“You’d better set down that book.”

She looked at him and turned her book upside down. Finally. A sudden craving for Brian engulfed her, to be held, to be loved—and to give back. Yes, this is how it should feel.

“You’d better take off your glasses.”

She set her glasses on the night table.

“You’d better get out of that shirt.”

“I want to go swimming,” Nora said. She was eating pancakes Gwen had made from a mix brought from home.

“Me too,” said Nate.

“Mommy, did you bring Nate’s floaty vest?” Nora asked.

“Yes I did.”

“She brought your vest, Nate.”

“I know.”

“When can we go swimming?”

“After breakfast. Dad will take you.” She turned to Brian. “I should go into town and get some groceries.”

“Sure, stick me in the cold water.”

“Get your bathing suits on, they’re in the suitcase in my bedroom,” Gwen said. “And don’t forget your water shoes, the bottom isn’t smooth.”

The kids ran upstairs to get changed.

Brian approached Gwen at the kitchen sink from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist, looked at the rippled surface of the lake.

“Maybe we can have a repeat of last night.”

“That would be nice.” She turned to kiss him. Amazing what lovemaking could do, when it was the perfect timing, ideal setting, and the right man. It could vanquish all the stress, ease her guilt over the accident, mitigate her legal problems, marginalize her betrayal of Jude. And the aftermath of their love, side by side on the bed and holding hands under the warmed sheets, only the crickets interrupting the silence: it helped you remember who and what were essential in your life.

The kids came down in their swimsuits and water shoes. Nate had his suit on backward and shoes on the wrong feet. Gwen
helped him out of his suit and shoes and back on again the right way. She zipped him into his vest.

“Guess how many sharks I have?” A pattern of tiny blue sharks covered his suit.

“How many?”

“Guess.”

“Twenty?”

Nate laughed. “Nope. Thirty-seven.”

“That’s a lot of sharks.”

“Come on,” said Nora. “Let’s go.”

Gwen grabbed the camera and walked down to the lake with them. Brian squatted at the water’s edge with Nora and Nate on either side and he tickled them just enough to coax big smiles. Gwen snapped two pictures.

“I’ll take another of you going in,” she said.

Nora waded in, but Nate touched the water and sprang back as if bitten by a fish.

“It’s too cold,” he said.

“It’s great!” said Nora. She dunked under.

“I don’t want to.”

“Come on, buddy, you just have to get used to it. Take my hand.” Brian looked at Gwen and chattered his teeth. He mouthed the words
fucking freezing
. Nora called for him to get in.

“I want to stay with Mommy,” Nate said, breaking away from Brian.

“I have to go in town to the store,” Gwen said.

“I want to come with you.” He clung to her leg at the water’s edge.

“Let’s swim,” Brian said. “It’s already feeling warmer.” He was midcalf now, Nora still yelling at him to come out farther.

“I want to go with Mommy.”

“It’s okay with me,” Gwen said. “I’ll take him, you two swim. Come on, Nate.”

She unzipped his vest and got him into a T-shirt. He insisted on keeping his bathing suit and water shoes on.

Gwen could make do with the small market about fifteen minutes away rather than driving the half hour into Saranac Lake. She’d pick up something Brian could grill for dinner, hopefully find fresh produce and get ice cream for dessert. A six of beer. Eggs for breakfast tomorrow.

On the way, she played a CD of kids’ songs that Nate liked and was stunned by how beautiful the mountains looked, the bold contours, the leaves starting to change. They hadn’t taken advantage of the mountains yet, having owned the house less than a year and hardly coming up. Now, according to Brian, they were at risk of having to sell it. Things could be a lot worse, Gwen knew, and if they had to liquidate, downsize, and live a different lifestyle, she would do whatever it took to make that life successful. The one thing about last night with Brian was she realized they already had everything they needed in each other, as clichéd as that sounded. If finances got strained, they could re-create their early days together, when they were living in a one-bedroom apartment and in debt with school loans. It hadn’t been easy, but at least they’d made love a lot.