Elin Hilderbrand - The Rumor

Don’t you think it’s weird that she took Benton as her date?

Eddie stepped out onto the deck. Grace and Benton were having what appeared to be a lovely little lunch, despite Grace’s tears. Eddie bristled. While he was at work, toiling and sweating over their finances, Grace was at home picnicking with the person who was supposed to be working for them.

If Eddie were lucky enough to be reincarnated, he was coming back as Grace’s gardener.

“Hey, there,” Eddie said.

Benton was leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced behind his head. He looked a little more at ease at Grace’s side than Eddie might have wanted him to, but there didn’t appear to be anything untoward going on. It wasn’t even like Grace was crying on his shoulder. She had her elbows on the table and was dabbing at her eyes with her lunch napkin. She and Benton were sitting next to each other, but not unreasonably close. And when Eddie stepped out, they didn’t seem jumpy or alarmed. It didn’t seem like they were hiding anything.

Benton got to his feet. “Hey, Eddie,” he said. He shook Eddie’s hand. “Grace was just telling me about your night.”

Grace raised her weepy eyes. “How’s your heartburn?”

“Never been worse,” Eddie said.

“Can I get you some crackers and butter?” Grace said.

Eddie wasn’t sure he could manage even that much, but it was embarrassing to be offered nursery food because he couldn’t handle stuff like bacon and tomato-or even cucumber sticks and Grace’s buttermilk-herb dressing.

“I’m fine,” he said, in a way that made him sound like a pouting child.

Grace scooted her chair back and got to her feet. “I’ll get the crackers.”

Benton stood as well. “I should go. I have the lovely Mrs. Allemand waiting for me.”

“Edith Allemand?” Eddie said.

Benton grinned. “The one and only.”

Edith Allemand lived at 808 Main Street in a house that made Eddie salivate every time he drove past it. It was, possibly, the finest example of whaling-era money on Nantucket aside from the Hadwen House and the Three Bricks. Edith Allemand was about five hundred years old but still cogent and active. She was the kind of woman Grace had described her grandmother Sabine to be: impossibly refined and elegant. Otherwise, Eddie might have knocked on her door and begged her to let him list the house.

“Do you think she’ll ever sell?” Eddie asked.

“Never,” Benton said. “She’s leaving the house to the Nantucket Historical Association.”

Eddie’s hopes deflated, even though he knew she would do something socially responsible with it like give it to the historians. “Perfectly good waste of a six-figure commission,” Eddie said.

Benton threw his head back and laughed, and Eddie congratulated himself on being able to joke despite his excruciating pain. He liked Benton Coe, he decided. Nice guy, and clearly at the top of his professional game if Edith Allemand trusted him.

Benton waved. “Good to see you, Eddie. I’m sorry to hear about Allegra, but… this too shall pass.”

“Oh, I know,” Eddie said. “Thanks.”

“Bye, Grace!” Benton called out. “Hang in there-I’ll see you later!”

They could just barely hear Grace’s voice from inside. “Thanks! Bye!”

She was awoken in the morning by a phone call from Trevor.

“You have to come home,” he said. “We have a crisis on our hands.”

Madeline didn’t know why she felt surprised, but when Trevor showed her the photograph on Brick’s phone, she gasped. Allegra was sitting on the hood of Ian Coburn’s Camaro in pale, lacy underwear, and she was pinching a joint to her lips. Her long, dark hair was mussed, and her eyes held a faraway, dazed look. Ian Coburn was also in his underwear, a bottle of whiskey between his legs. It was disgusting, not so much because of what it showed but because of where it led the imagination.

“I guess they’ve been seeing each other on the sly for months,” Trevor said.

“Oh my God,” Madeline said. “How did you end up with his phone?”

“He threw it at the wall,” Trevor said. “There’s a hole in the plaster upstairs, but the phone survived.” He minimized the screen so that Allegra and Ian Coburn disappeared. “Lifeproof case.”

If only there were lifeproof cases available for humans, Madeline thought. Even from the kitchen, she could hear the sound of Brick crying-horrible, broken moans punctuated by shouted profanities.

Madeline climbed the stairs and stood outside the closed door. She instantly flashed back to when Brick was a baby; she could never stand to listen to him cry. But hearing him cry as a sixteen-year-old was far, far worse. His pain was real, his heart was broken, he had believed in a girl, he had loved her, and she had deceived him. She had preferred another, she had carried on behind his back. She had humiliated him.

Trevor came quietly up the stairs. It sounded as if Brick were pounding on his mattress.

Madeline said, “What should we do for him?”

“What can we do?” Trevor said. “It’s heartbreak. He has to work through it alone, just like the rest of us.”

Madeline looked into her husband’s green eyes. She said, “I am not, I repeat, not having an affair with Eddie Pancik.”

Trevor said, “I’m glad you’re home.” And he gathered her up in his arms.

Madeline was weak with relief. She squeezed her husband as tightly as she could.

Brick cried out. “Why?”

Why? Madeline thought.

We won’t get involved, she thought. Brick and Allegra were kids-this was their first time through all these confusing emotions. Allegra had strayed from the path of decent human behavior, but she was hardly the first person to do so.

We won’t get involved.

They were kids.

The house phone rang. The caller ID said it was the Pancik house.

Trevor said, “That would be Allegra. She’s been calling all morning.”

“Has she?” Madeline said.

“He won’t talk to her,” Trevor said. “I’ve just been letting it ring.”

Yes, Madeline thought. Let it ring.

We won’t get involved.

But the anger in Madeline was its own beast. No mother should have to listen to her child cry like that.

She thought, You wicked, wicked girl.

Madeline picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Madeline?”

It was Grace.

“Hey,” Madeline said.

“I take it you heard?”

“I heard.”

“The police called at ten after three,” Grace said. “Eddie had to go to the station to get her.”

Madeline was silent. We won’t get involved. They had made that promise for a reason-but what was it?

Grace said, “There were a couple of seconds when I thought she was dead. Eddie is… God, he’s just furious.”

He’s furious? Madeline thought.

“He stayed home from work,” Grace said.

Well, even Madeline had to admit: this was surprising. Eddie went to work every day except for Christmas and Thanksgiving. He went to work on Easter, he went to work on Mother’s Day, he went to work on New Year’s Day-just in case someone’s resolution was to buy a house on Nantucket. But, judging from Madeline’s own dealings with Eddie, she gathered there was less going on for Eddie at work than Grace knew.

Grace said, “He came downstairs while Benton was here. I knew he was home, so obviously nothing was going on, but it still made me very uncomfortable to have them in the same place.”

It was the mention of Benton that did it.

“Your daughter’s behavior was despicable, Grace.”

“Madeline, I’m sorry…”

“We all knew!” Madeline said. “That night when we came for dinner, Ian Coburn was texting her nonstop. And you and Eddie tolerated it.”

“No,” Grace said. “Eddie told her to turn her phone off.”

“She was flaunting it in Brick’s face!” Madeline said. “In front of all of us! As if daring us to notice what she was getting away with.”

Grace whispered, “I saw her with him.”

“What?” Madeline said.

“They were kissing in the car in the Stop and Shop parking lot,” Grace said. “I saw them, but I told myself it wasn’t Allegra. I told myself she wouldn’t do that.”

“What?” Madeline said. “How long ago was this?”

“Ten days?” Grace said. “Two weeks?”

“So you knew a week ago, and you didn’t tell me? And you didn’t say anything to Allegra?”

“I didn’t want…”

“You didn’t want what?” Madeline said. She carried the telephone into her bedroom and closed the door. “You didn’t want to face what Allegra was doing to Brick because it’s exactly the same thing you’re doing to Eddie?”

“Madeline…”

“In this case, the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree,” Madeline said. “Allegra is a cheater, and you, Grace, are a cheater.”

There was silence on the other end, Grace no doubt stunned by Madeline’s words. Madeline couldn’t believe she’d said them out loud, but she was caught up in a swirling tornado of anger-not just about Allegra and Ian Coburn and the fact that Grace had apparently known about it, but also about Eddie and the fifty thousand dollars. Madeline wanted her money back! And, while she was at it, there were other things that ate away at Madeline but that she’d never bothered to bring up. Such as Grace’s migraines. The whole world was supposed to stop and bow down to Grace’s pain once a month, but when Madeline had had her third and worst miscarriage, Grace had attended five o’clock Mass rather than come straight to the hospital. Grace later explained that she was a Eucharistic minister and couldn’t find a last-minute replacement, and she said she had prayed for Madeline and the soul of the baby-but, even so, Madeline had been hurt. Grace was her best friend and should have put everything on hold, especially since Grace alone knew how badly Madeline wanted another baby.

And then there was Madeline’s suspicion that Grace hadn’t actually finished reading her last book, Islandia. Madeline had seen it in Grace’s beach bag the previous summer when Grace had announced that she had “made it” to page 150. And then, months later, Madeline saw the book on Grace’s front hall table, and the bookmark remained at page 150. Had Grace simply stopped reading? Madeline had been too embarrassed to ask, but she had been pretty sure that her own best friend had never finished her book. This was maybe because… Grace’s intellect was too lofty, because she had been a French-literature major at precious Mount Holyoke and read only things she considered “important” and “worthy.”

Madeline couldn’t remember ever being this angry before.

“You’re right,” Grace said softly.

“I know I’m right!” Madeline screamed. “And I want my money back!”

With that, she slammed down the phone and for one second felt completely self-righteous! She thought of her novel B/G. Maybe she wouldn’t change any of the details! Maybe she would leave them all just as they were so Grace would know!

Trevor knocked on the door. “Honey, are you okay?” he asked. “Who were you talking to?”

“Grace,” Madeline spat out. Then she started to cry.

Officer Curren Brancato texted his sister, Hollis, the picture of Allegra Pancik and Ian Coburn sitting on the hood of Ian’s Camaro in their underwear. Underneath the photo, Curren wrote: Your BFF is in BIG TRUBS.

Hollis Brancato was no angel. Secretly, she had had her sights set on Ian Coburn. To learn that Allegra was hanging out with him at the same time that she was steadily dating Brick set her off like a fire alarm. She forwarded the photo to Kenzie and Bluto. Allegra is a two-timer, and here’s the proof. She didn’t use the phrase two-timer, however. She used other words, too profane to be repeated.

From Kenzie and Bluto, word spread to Hannah, and Hannah felt compelled to tell the person who would be most affected, Brick Llewellyn, and then Hannah told Calgary and Taylor Rook and Parker Marz, and the rest of Brick’s baseball team, so that he might have some brothers-in-arms.

By midafternoon on Friday, it was safe to say that every student at Nantucket High School had heard some version of what had happened to Allegra and Ian Coburn, and most of them had seen the photographic evidence. Some people said that Ian Coburn had been cuffed and thrown in jail; some said he was headed to Walpole. In truth, he had been given a slap on the wrist-the amount of cocaine found in his car was too small to charge him with intent to distribute-but his parents were concerned enough that they had already checked out several drug rehabilitation centers out West.