WHAT NEW YORK GAVE HIM
1003 Words
Arnold's POV
Four days have passed and i haven't still seen Victor .
No police at my door, no calls , no lawyers and no sign that the ground beneath me has shifted at all .
The silence should feel like relief .
It deos not .
No word from Daniel beyond a single message confirming what i already know
Victor landed in New york the night he left and stayed exactly twenty four hours before flying back to Ashwood Falls .
Silence from a man like Victor Hail is never empty , it is loaded , the kind of quiet that exists on purpose .
I spent four days circling the same question without landing anywhere close the the answer .
What does he know now that he didn't know before he got on that plane?.
I am at the bakery on the fifth morning , ordering my usual, cinnamon rolls , ealier than usual.
The bell above the door rings and i look up expecting one of the members of the town.
It is Victor .
Alone .
No entourage , no assistant trailing behind him with a phone to their ear , none of the performance he wore the first time he walked through the door .
He is dressed down , with a plain white tee, blue jeans , nothing like the man who photographs well , and i understand that this version of him isn't built for audience .
He scans the room once , quick and practiced , and he finds it nearly empty , Marisa somewhere in the back .
Then he finds me.
He does not want to be invited .
He crosses the room and takes a seat across from mine , the same seat Marisa sat days ago .
"Arnold Sterling" , he says.
My name sounds different in his mouth this time , slower nothing like the way he pronounced it on our first meeting in the bakery .
"Son of Richard Sterling".
His words lands in my chest like a fist .
I do not let it show.
"I'm not sure I follow", i say .
Victor smiles.
It is not the warm easy smile he gave Marisa four days ago .
This one has teeth in it .
The smile of a man who has already decided how this conversation ends before it begins .
"You follow perfectly well" , he says.
I spent a day in New York comfirming what i suspected the moment your name came out of my niece's mouth .
I find it interesting that the son of a man i once did business with is now sitting in my niece's bakery , ordering cinnamon rolls , and meeting her family .
Every word is like a blade , and he delivers them without raising his voice , without breaking the pleasant , conversational tone he might use to talk to his close business friends .
This is soo much worse than shouting would have been .
I could have managed shouting .
This quiet tone , tells me he has known exactly what he wanted to say since before he sat down .
"That's a very interesting theory" , i say.
Keeping my voice level.
"But i don't se what any of it has to do with me."
"Don't" , Victor says.
For the first time i could see something sharp move behind his eyes, something that is not performance at all .
" I did not fly to New York and back in a day to sit here and watch you lie to my face"
"I know exactly who your father was".
"I know exactly what he believed i did to him".
The bell door rings again .
Marisa's voice calls out from the back , cheereful , unaware.
" Who just came in " , Marisa said .
Victor's eyes do not leave mine , even as he answers without turning his head to look at her.
"Just me , sweetheart" , he calls back .
His voice instantly transformed , warm and easy going again.
The mask sliding back into his face soo fast it is almost violent to witness .
He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping low enough that only I can hear now .
"Whatever you came here to do".
"You should think carefully about how far you intend to take it ".
"Do not mistake my patience for ignorance ,and do not mistake my niece's affection for you as something that will protect you if i decide otherwise ".
He rises from the table before i could respond , and by the time Marisa emerges from the back, with a tray of fresh pastries , he is already smiling at her like nothing happened at all .
"Uncle Vic", she says.
"You're here early ".
"Couldn't stay away" , he says.
Kisses her forehead.
A customer calls her name from the counter , someone needing a refill , she throws us an aoplogetic smile before hurrying off to deal with it .
This time on his way out, he looks back.
"One question" , he says .
Pausing with his hand on the door .
I say nothing , just because i have learned by now that with Victor silence is safer .
"What is it you want from my niece , Marisa".
"She is not part of anything ", i say finally.
"I dont know what you think is going on here , but there is no plan , no scheme , nothing for you to worry about".
It is not quite a lie and not quite the truth either , and Victor studies me long enough that I understand he doesn't believe any word i just said .
"We'll find out" , he says .
"Won't we".
He is gone finally .
I am left sitting with my cold coffee.
The realization that I do not know anymore, which half of that sentence i actually believed.
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