Gray Mountain: A Novel(30)

With nothing else to do, Samantha said yes. Annette scooped up a pile of dirty clothes and tossed them into the clothes washer beside the refrigerator. She added soap and cranked a dial. “The noise will drown out anything we say,” she said as she reached into a cabinet for tea bags. “Decaf okay?”

“Sure,” Samantha said as she stepped into the den, a room overrun with sagging bookshelves, stacks of magazines, and soft furniture that had not been dusted in months. In one corner there was a flat-screen TV (the garage apartment did not have one), and in another corner Annette kept a small desk with a computer and a stack of files. She brought two cups of steaming tea, handed one to Samantha, and said, “Let’s sit on the sofa and talk about girl stuff.”

“Okay, what do you have in mind?”

As they settled in, Annette said, “Well, sex for one. How often do you get laid in New York?”

Samantha laughed at the frankness, then hesitated as if she couldn’t remember the last time. “It’s not that wild, really. I mean, it is if you’re in the game, but in my crowd we work too much to have any fun. A night out for us is a nice dinner and drinks, after which I’m always too tired to do anything but go to sleep, alone.”

“That’s hard to believe, all those rich, young professionals on the prowl. I’ve watched Sex and the City, over and over. By myself, of course, after the kids go to bed.”

“Well, I haven’t. I’ve heard about it, but I’m usually at the office. I’ve had one boyfriend in the past three years. Henry, a starving actor, really cute and fun in the sack, but he got tired of my hours and my fatigue. Sure, you meet a lot of guys, but most of them are just as driven. Women are disposable. A lot of jerks too, a lot of arrogant brats who talk of nothing but money and brag about what they can buy.”

“I’m crushed.”

“Don’t be. It’s not as glamorous as you think.”

“Never?”

“Oh sure, the occasional hookup, but nothing I care to remember.” Samantha sipped her tea and wanted to shift the conversation. “What about you? You get much action in Brady?”

It was Annette’s turn to laugh. She paused, took a sip, and became sad. “There’s not much happening here. I made the choice, now I live it, and that’s okay.”

“The choice?”

“Yes, I came here ten years ago, in full retreat. My divorce was a nightmare and I had to get away from my ex. Get my kids away too. He has almost no contact. Now, I’m forty-five years old, somewhat attractive, in fairly good shape, unlike, well—”

“Got it.”

“Let’s just say there’s not much competition in Noland County. There have been a couple of nice men along the way, but no one I wanted to live with. One guy was twenty years older, and I just couldn’t do that to my kids. For the first few years, it seemed as though half the women in town were trying to fix me up with a cousin. Then I realized they really wanted me to get married so they wouldn’t have to worry about their own husbands. Married men, though, do not tempt me. Far too much trouble, here or in the city.”

“Why do you stay?”

“That’s a great question, and I’m not sure I will. It’s a safe place to raise kids, though we do worry about the environmental hazards. Brady’s okay, but not far from here, back in the settlements and hollows, kids are constantly sick from contaminated water and coal dust. To answer your question, I’ve stayed because I love the work. I love the people who need my help. I can make a small difference in their lives. You met them today. You saw their fear and hopelessness. They need me. If I leave, there may be someone to take my place, and maybe not.”

“How do you turn it off when you leave the office?”

“I can’t always do that. Their problems are too personal, so I lose a lot of sleep.”

“I’m glad to hear that because I keep thinking about Phoebe Fanning, with her busted face and kids hidden with a relative, and a goon for a husband who’ll probably kill her when he gets out.”

Annette offered a caring smile. “I’ve seen a lot of women in her situation, and they’ve all survived. Phoebe will be fine, eventually. She’ll relocate somewhere—we’ll help her—and she’ll divorce him. Keep in mind, Samantha, he’s in jail right now, getting a good taste of life behind bars. If he does something stupid, he could spend the rest of his days in prison.”

“I didn’t get the impression he’s that much of a thinker.”

“You’re right. He’s an idiot and an addict. I’m not making light of her situation, but she’ll be okay.”

Samantha exhaled and set her cup on the coffee table. “I’m sorry, this is just so new to me.”

“Dealing with real people?”

“Yes, so caught up in their problems, and expected to fix them. The last file I worked on in New York involved a really shady guy, worth about a billion or so, our client, who wanted to build this very tall and sleek hotel in the middle of Greenwich Village. It was by far the ugliest model I ever saw, really gaudy. He fired three or four architects and his building just got taller and uglier. The city said hell no, so he sued and cozied up to the politicians and conducted himself like a lot of Manhattan developers. I met him once briefly when he came to the office to yell at my partner. A total sleazeball. And he was our client, my client. I detested the man. I wanted him to fail.”