Free Better Than This by Stuart Harrison Page A

me.
    “Garrison? I don’t think so,” I said.
    “Really? I’m surprised. They were always such good friends.” She suggested we sit down and she asked if I would like tea. “Garrison’s father is Tom Hunt. Their family has lived in the area for generations,” she added.
    “Maybe she mentioned him and I forgot.”
    “He would be around your age. Aren’t you in your final year?”
    That’s right.”
    “I’m right then. So is Garrison. He’s going to be helping his father after he graduates. They have a lot of business interests in this area. Real estate, land and so on.” She poured tea for us and passed me a cup. “He’s a very good skier. Sally and he went together one year. A whole crowd of them went. One of the boy’s fathers has a lodge at Lake Tahoe. Do you ski, Nick?”
    The smile she gave me was as pointed as a knife.
    “No, I never have,” I said.
    “Really? You’re from Portland didn’t Sally tell me?”
    That’s right.”
    “And what do your parents do?”
    “My mother works as a personal assistant. My dad died when I was young.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmured.
    It went on like that for a while. She quizzed me about my background while offering snippets of insight into Sally’s own life, subtly making a point about our differences it seemed to me. Later I asked Sally about Garrison Hunt whose name kept cropping up.
    “He’s just somebody I know,” she said. “Why?”
    “Because your mother keeps talking about him like he’s Mr. Fucking Perfect that’s why. Did you date this guy or something?”
    She admitted that she had for a while, though it wasn’t serious. I got the impression that nevertheless her mother had decided he was the right one for her.
    “She can be a bit of a snob sometimes,” Sally said with gross understatement.
    She herself thought Garrison was pleasant, charming, and reasonably good looking, but he didn’t flip her switch.
    We ate dinner with Sally’s parents that night. Her father didn’t say a lot. He was pleasant, but I got the impression his mind was elsewhere a lot of the time. I thought Sally was being particularly attentive to me. She made a point of holding my arm when we went through to the dining room. The room was large and obviously little used. The table was enormous, a heavily polished antique with twelve high-backed chairs placed around it which seemed ridiculous for the four of us. I didn’t know why we didn’t eat in the kitchen, which was large and comfortable, instead of in this cavernous room where by the time the food reached the table it was cold. Frank sat at one end, with Ellen on his right and Sally on his left with me beside her. Sally chattered with uncharacteristic nervousness, telling funny stories that presented me in a flattering light while her mother smiled with forced politeness.
    “More potatoes, Nick?” Sally asked. “More wine?”
    “Don’t you think he’s good looking?” I remember she asked her mother once, and kissed me quickly.
    Her mother looked on with grim disapproval. I found Sally’s behaviour forced and unnatural, and wondered what point she was trying to make, and whether to me or her mother?
    Later, when Sally was helping clear away, Ellen took the opportunity to collar me alone again.
    “You and Sally have been seeing quite a lot of each other, haven’t you?” she said.
    “I suppose we have.”
    “You know, I married when I was quite young, Nick. Of course
    I’ve been very fortunate and I’ve been happy, but I’ve always hoped Sally would experience more of life before she settled down. I’d like her to travel, to experience things.”
    I wasn’t certain what she was getting at, but I was surprised at the inference. “Sally and I are dating,” I said. “We haven’t talked about anything like marriage.”
    “No of course not,” she said with a laugh. She paused for a moment. “You’ll be finishing college next year you said? What will you do then?”
    “I don’t