He told Merrion that Emily had congratulated him on his appointment, saying she was happy because she figured he was 'finally getting tired of acting like the biggest asshole in the world." Because Hilliard was his best friend and Emily was not, Merrion did not say what he thought: that most people who knew and liked her father had for a while sadly and reluctantly shared her opinion.
All that had been several years before Emily at age thirty-one and her partner, Karen, thirty-eight, had decided to make public their commitment to each other in a meadow setting, inviting the papers. The Pioneer Valley Record, a weekly in Cumberland, ran two pictures;
Hilliard did not appear in them because he had not attended the ceremony.
"I was not invited," he told Merrion. "I chose not to be. Emily called me up and told me what was going to happen. She said she'd invited her mother and Mercy'd gotten all bent out of shape and begged her not to go through with it. Pleaded with her to be satisfied with living openly with Karen, if that's what she was sure she wanted to do.
No one was trying to stop them, so why go public and cause the rest of us all this pain and embarrassment. Emily said Mercy should have joy, not that negative reaction, that she's found her life's companion and partner, and celebrate their union, and that just shows how insensitive we are to her real needs.
"Emily told me her mother's reaction made her think she'd better call me up and ask me whether I wanted to come, or would I rather try to make her feel bad instead, like her mother had just done. So she was asking did I want to be invited, and she would like to have my true and honest answer.
"Remember the big kid in the sixth grade with you he'd been kept back so many times they had to let him out of gym so he could go and vote?
Used to stick his chin out and ask you if you were trying to start a fight at recess poke you in the chest before he hit you in the guts?
Same tone of voice.
"I thought about the way she acted when Mercy and I were having such a grand old time of it kicking the living shit out of each other when we were breaking up. Emmy's contribution then was to make it worse for both of us by acting like she's the one who's getting hurt, squawking at me about all the bad publicity I was getting as though I'd been out there trying to get it."
"I don't remember you working too hard to avoid it," Merrion said.
"No," Hilliard said, his voice roughening, "I didn't. I stopped living a monk like Sam Evans said after Mercy alleged adultery. The hell was the point of celibacy after that? Sit around and beat my meat after I've been publicly accused of getting laid three times a day? But I didn't go out and arrange the damned press coverage, which is what Emily's doing. She's deliberately staging this sideshow so it'll be in all the papers that she's a lesbian. Part of my job's enforcing college rules that say no public sexual conduct or display. And I've actually got people on my campus who say that's violation of academic freedom. So now Emily's very sweetly asking me if I wouldn't love to be a part of her little pagan feast.
"I gave it some thought. "Which'd I rather do: what my dear daughter's offering here or jump into a live volcano?" I decided I'd prefer the volcano. This isn't a celebration she's planning; this is a counterattack. No reason to stand out in front of it. So I said: "Uh uh, no thanks. Appreciate the call though. Lots of luck to you and Karen. Toodle-ooh." And that's the way we left it.
"So, who did that leave with a key around here? You're looking at him.
Hot-water heater tank blew a relief valve. I got Ralph Stallings to fix it this morning, actually come out on a Saturday, but I had to be there, let him in. Then wait around while he fixed it; lock up again after he left."
"You still got a key?" Merrion said.
"Yeah," Hilliard said. "I didn't realize it either, not for quite a long time. I first found out I still had it I dunno when it was, five, six years ago, same situation. Somebody was going to go there to do something, install something, I dunno, and that was the only day they could come and she'd been waiting a long time have it done. But it so happened she had to be someplace else that same day, so would I be a nice guy and do her a favor and go over there, let him in. I was kind of surprised myself. It wasn't like I minded or anything, I'm only just up the street and let's face it, I pretty much come and go as I like. So it was no big deal.
"But when she first called up and asked me, did I still have my key; I admit I was kind of surprised. I said: "Yeah, I think I might still have it around here someplace; I don't think I threw it away. Why?"
And she told me, and I said: "Well, geez, you know, the reason I'm not sure I've got it is I assumed it wasn't any good anymore. Isn't it sort of traditional, part of the ritual, that when the wife winds up with the house, she gets all the locks changed?"
"And she said yeah, she guessed it was, but one thing and another, she never got around to it. The kids when we split up, they were still living there. Later on, they're in college, they still had to have a place to come back to. After that Tim's first marriage came apart; he lived here until he got resettled. Emmy was sort of between jobs and up in the air for a long time, figuring out what she was. So they both would've needed new keys if Mercy'd gotten the locks changed.
'"It just seemed simpler," she said to me, "if I left things the way they were. And it wasn't as though, you know, I was ever afraid of you. I never considered myself a prospect for one of those afternoon talk-shows: "Women whose ex-husbands stalk them." I never went to bed at night thinking maybe you might be looking in the windows; I never thought you'd ever want to hurt me. Not in that way, anyway."
Hilliard smirked. "My little Mercy, just as sweet as ever always gets her little dig in.
'"And anyway," she says, "everybody that I know who's got a house, ex-husband or no ex-husband around, they've all got someone who doesn't live there that's got a key to it. In case someone needs to get in while they're gone, the fire department or something. Someone they can trust. Well, you're ideal far as that kind of trust's concerned anyway. You live right near me; I know if I fall down some night, break my leg or something and can't move, if I can call an ambulance I can get you up and you'll come over, let the paramedics in. And when I'm on the island, you're usually here. So I just never got around to it."
"So anyway, that's where I was," Hilliard said. "Waiting for Ralph Stallings to come. And finish his work and then go. Sorry to've kept you waiting."
"So, are we playing?" Merrion said, catching another whiff of cognac, thinking: Mercy's still stocking the bar in the study with V.S.O.P.
"I called Bolo up this morning," Hilliard said, 'after I called your house first and I got your machine. That to me says you'd either left already to come here or were on the road to God-knows-where-else first, and then you're coming here. Or else that you got lucky last night and you haven't been home, and as soon as you two get through hiding the salami a few more times with last night's catch-of-the-day, you're coming directly here. I didn't have your car-phone. So I called Bolo and told him the situation. So when you got here and came looking for me, tell you what's going on, ask you to wait; I'm on my way. Bolo said when I got here to find him and he'd fit us in whenever we wanted.