Read The Weekend: A Novel Online

Authors: Peter Cameron

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Fiction, #Gay, #Romance, #Literary, #United States, #Gay Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lgbt, #Gay Fiction, #Literary Fiction

The Weekend: A Novel (16 page)

BOOK: The Weekend: A Novel
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“No,” said Lyle.
“What were you—how did—did you really walk into a tree? Or did Robert do that to you?”
Lyle touched his face. “No. It was a tree. I was trying to follow him and walked right into it. I’ve lost my glasses,” he said. “They must have fallen off.”
“We’ll find them tomorrow,” said John. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and then look for Robert.”
“I think maybe—I mean, if I go with you, and we find him, he might not—would you mind going by yourself? I don’t think he wants to see me again. And if you find him, you could drive him to the train station.”
“But the trains don’t run this late. And tomorrow’s Sunday. The first one’s not till eight.”
“Oh,” said Lyle. “Of course.”
“But I’ll go,” said John. “And if I find him I’ll bring him back here. And then I’ll get up early and drive him to the station.”
“This is all so stupid,” said Lyle. “I’ve made such a mess. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said John. “Let’s just get your face cleaned up.”
They began to walk toward the house. “Would you do me one more favor?” Lyle asked.
“Of course,” said John. “What?”
“Don’t tell Marian about this,” said Lyle.
“What do you mean? She’ll think it’s strange that Robert’s just disappeared.”
“I’ll tell her something,” said Lyle. “Tomorrow.”
 
 
Marian was not asleep. She was sitting up in bed, waiting. John had gone out with the flashlight to check his garden half an hour ago and had not yet returned. Neither had Lyle or Robert. There was something unsettling about their collective absence. What was happening out there? Finally Marian heard what she assumed to be Lyle and Robert return. But then she heard the strangest thing: the car. Someone started the car and drove away. She got out of bed and walked down the long hall, around the corner, and toward the yellow room. A stripe of light lay on the floor beneath the door. She stood for a moment, but heard nothing. She knocked.
“Yes?” Lyle said.
“Lyle? It’s Marian. Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” said Lyle.
“Was that John who drove away?”
“Yes,” said Lyle.
“Do you know where he went?”
There was a pause. “Laura Ponti left her house keys here. He went to return them.”
“Oh,” said Marian. “How did he know?”
“How did he know what?”
“That she left her keys here.”
“I don’t know. I suppose she called.”
“I didn’t hear the phone,” said Marian.
“Perhaps you were asleep. Or maybe she didn’t call. Maybe John just found them. He said he’d be right back.”
“All right, then. I’m sorry to have bothered you. I was just curious. Did you have a nice walk?”
“Yes,” said Lyle. “Good night.”
“Good night. Good night, Robert.”
Robert did not answer. Marian stood for a moment outside the door. She put her hand up against it, as if she could intuit through her touch what was happening inside. After a moment the light went out. There was silence. She had the feeling that someone—Lyle—was standing on just the other side of the door, as still and quiet as she.
 
 
The farm stand was closed, the bins outside emptied but full of moonlight. Laura gave a little shriek as they drove past it, and stopped the car.
“What?” asked Robert.
“I know where I am!” she exclaimed. “That’s my farm stand. I live near here. Listen: why don’t you come spend the night at my place? There isn’t going to be a train for ages, and that’s assuming we find the damned station. I’ve got a spare room and you can spend the night and meet my daughter the movie star. Actually, you can get a ride back to the city with her. I assume she’ll go back the way she came. How does that sound?”
“It’s very nice of you,” said Robert. “But—”
“But what?”
“But. Well, I think I’d like to just get back to the city as quickly as possible. I don’t mind waiting at the station.”
“But it may be hours!”
“I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. In fact, I’d like to. I’d like to be alone for a while.”
“I think you’re crazy,” said Laura.
“I know,” said Robert. “Listen, I don’t want to take you any farther out of your way. I can walk to the station from here.”
“Nonsense,” said Laura. “Although I hate to abet you in this foolishness, I won’t allow you to walk. We’ve no idea how far it really is.” She started the car. “Now, you’re sure about this?”
Robert nodded.
They drove away from the farm stand. After a moment Laura said, “Since I’m being nice enough to drive you to the train station, I hope you’ll allow me to offer you some advice.”
“What?” asked Robert.
Laura looked over at him, and then looked back at the road. “Don’t feel so sorry for yourself,” she said. “Feeling sorry for yourself is unavoidable, but it’s the biggest waste of time. It gets you nowhere. I speak from experience in this matter.”
“I don’t feel sorry for myself,” said Robert.
“Yes, you do,” said Laura. She said it as if she were offering a fact rather than a judgment. “You’re planning to spend a mournful mopey night at the train station. Just don’t mope for too long.”
Robert said nothing. He looked down at his hands.
“I say these things to you because I like you,” said Laura. “I like you. I’m not afraid to tell you that. People waste time in this regard, too. You are by far one of the more interesting people I’ve met this whole godforsaken summer.”
Robert smiled a little, and shrugged.
“I can tell that there is more to you than meets the eye,” Laura continued. “And I am sure that is what attracted Herr Wyatt to you. That and your good looks, of course. You are
very good-looking. I am an excellent judge of these things. And Wyatt may be a fuddy-duddy but he’s not stupid. Not by any means.”
The bridge appeared on the right. It rose up over a river of fog. They were the only car on it. “Thank you,” said Robert.
“You are welcome,” said Laura.
“I like you, too,” said Robert. “You’re very smart and nice.”
“It’s funny you should say that. I’d come to a different conclusion about myself this evening.”
A sign in the center of town pointed to the train station. Laura pulled into the deserted parking lot. “It doesn’t look very promising,” she said.
“No,” said Robert.
“You can change your mind.”
“I know,” said Robert. He made no move to get out of the car. “I enjoyed this very much,” he said, “driving around with you. And the pie. Thanks.”
“Yes,” said Laura. “So did I. It was fun, in a way, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Robert.
Laura tapped the steering wheel with her fingers for a moment. “I’m going to ask you a question,” she said. “Will you answer it honestly?”
“I’ll try,” said Robert.
“You said you were a painter. Are you a good painter?”
“I don’t know,” said Robert.
“You must have some idea. Do you think you’re a good painter?”
It took Robert a moment to say, “Yes. I think I am.”
“Then I am going to make you an offer. Remember my frescoes that want restoring?”
“Yes,” said Robert.
“Why don’t you come and do it? I would very much like to have you do it.”
“I don’t know how to restore frescoes,” said Robert.
“You could learn. I’m sure you could. They’ve already been ruined by Laura Ashley. You could only improve them.”
“Do you mean come to Italy?”
“It would be rather difficult to do it from here,” said Laura.
“I’ve never been to Italy,” said Robert.
“It isn’t a prerequisite.”
“When?”
“Whenever. Think about it. Sooner than later. I’ll pay you, of course. And there’s a little apartment for you in the cottage. I live in the most beautiful villa in Italy. The nice thing about Italy is just about everyone can say that truthfully. Will you think about it?”
“Yes,” said Robert. “Of course.”
“All right, then, get out. Get out and wait for your train. I’m going home.” She opened her purse and extracted a silver card case. “Here’s my card,” she said. “I’ll be back in Italy in September. Get in touch with me. Whatever you decide, get in touch with me. Let me know the train came, if nothing else.” She handed him the card.
“Thank you,” said Robert. “I will.” He got out of the car. “And thank you for the ride.”
“It was my pleasure,” said Laura. “Good night.”
 
 
The house was completely dark when Laura finally returned. She drank a tall glass of water at the kitchen sink. Everything in the kitchen was clean and neat. Nina had done a very nice job of cleaning. All the surfaces were shining, everything arranged, even the fruit in the bowl neatly pyramided.
In the order, Laura intuited a truce.
She turned out the light and walked down the hall toward her bedroom. The door to Nina’s room was ajar. Laura closed it, quietly, and went into her bedroom. She sat on the bed, removed her earrings, and dialed the Kerrs’ number.
Marian answered it on the first ring. “Hello?” she said.
“Marian? This is Laura Ponti. I’m sorry to be calling so late. I just thought you might like to know I’ve taken Robert to the train station.”
“What?” asked Marian.
“I found Robert on the road and drove him to the station. I thought you might be worried.”
“I’m sorry,” said Marian. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why did you bring him to the train station?”
“Because that is where he wanted to go.”
“Where’s John?”
“John?”
“I thought you’d lost your keys. John was returning them.”
“No, my keys are intact. Please tell Lyle I called. And thank you so much for the lovely dinner. Good night.”
“Good night,” said Marian. She hung up the phone, and sat on the bed, trying to figure out what was happening. It was as if they were all playing some game and had left her out. She was sitting there when she heard the car return. She heard John climb the stairs and walk down the hall. He opened the door and saw her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You tell me,” she said. “Laura Ponti just called. She said she picked Robert up and took him to the train station.”
“She found him?” said John. “Good.”
“What’s good?” asked Marian. “What’s going on?”
“Robert and Lyle had a fight. Robert ran off into the woods. Lyle tried to follow him and collided with a tree.”
“Is he all right?”
“He cut his face. And he’s upset.”
“Where did you go?” asked Marian.
“Looking for Robert. I should tell Lyle Mrs. Ponti found him. I’m sure he’s worried.”
“He lied to me,” said Marian. “He told me Laura had left her keys here. That you had gone to return them.”
“I’ll be right back,” said John. He walked down the hall and knocked on the door of the yellow room.
“Yes?” Lyle said.
John opened the door. “It’s me,” he said.
Lyle was sitting up in bed. He looked to John like a child, sitting there expectantly, a window of moonlight falling across him. “Did you find him?”
“No,” said John. “But Laura Ponti called. She did. She took him to the train station. We thought you’d like to know.”
“Yes,” said Lyle. “Thanks.”
“How’s the face?”
“Fine,” said Lyle.
“Is there anything I can get you?” asked John.
“No, thanks,” said Lyle.
“I told Marian,” said John. “Just so you know.”
Lyle nodded. “I’m sorry about all this,” he said.
“Don’t be,” said John. “These things happen.”
 
 
“Is he O.K.?” Marian asked, when John had returned to their bed.
“Yes,” said John.
“Poor Lyle,” she said. “What did they fight about?”
“I don’t know,” said John. “Lyle didn’t want me to tell you. He wants to tell you in the morning.”
“Why did he lie to me? That isn’t like him.”
“He’s ashamed, I think. And—and I don’t know. Upset.”
After a moment Marian said, “So we were right.”
“Oh, Marian,” said John.
BOOK: The Weekend: A Novel
13.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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