The Spirit Wood Read Online Free PDF Page B

he had to lean forward to hear her—"quar-reled, bitterly. It was part of one of those ancient Greek feuds. A family thing. A terrible, useless, futile thing.” She raised her hands to her face, cupping them as if in prayer, covering all but her lowered eyes. “When your father became ill—and needed help, desperately—no help was given. He might have been saved . . . but even then, no help was given.”
    She fell silent, and Peter reached up and took one hand from her face, and held it.
    “I wanted this . . . monstrousness to end with you. I wanted you preserved from it, untouched by it. I didn't even want you to ever have to know about any of it . . . I'm only sorry that what happened this afternoon has made that impossible.”
    “But then why—” Peter started to say, thinking out loud.
    “Why did he leave you virtually everything he had?” his mother said, completing his thought. “I'm not sure myself. I would like to think out of regret, and remorse. I would like to think that,” she said, sounding not at all convinced. Then looking up at him again, “But I'm glad he did. Truly I am. I've no more idea than you do of what it will all come to, but we'll tell Mr. Kennedy to dispose of the estate and property as soon as possible, and once that's done—”
    “Not without at least seeing it, though,” Peter interjected innocently. “You don't want him to simply sell it all off without our even having taken a look, do you?”
    His mother appeared startled. “Why would you need to do that? It seems to me that the simplest, and most expedient, thing to do is to leave it all in more experienced hands. Don't you trust Kennedy?”
    “No, it's not that; I'm sure Kennedy is fine. It's just that I'd hate to be a property owner who never even saw what he owned before he had to give most of it to the IRS. Wouldn't you like to see the estate? Arcadia?Kennedy said it was quite a place, from what he'd heard.”
    “No, I wouldn't like to see it,” his mother replied, her voice instantly colder and more resolute than before. “I wouldn't like to see it, and after what I've just told you, I'm very surprised that you do.”
    “Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry. I'm just curious. I mean, it's not as if your father were still out there.”
    For one split second, he saw her eyes dart away.
    “I'm sorry I mentioned it. Forget the whole thing. I'll talk to Kennedy next week.” He searched for a way to end the conversation. “Why don't you check on the pot roast—smells almost done to me—and I'll see how Meg's doing in the bedroom.”
    He kissed his mother on the cheek before leaving the room, but even as he inched open the bedroom door and peered inside to see Meg curled up with a pillow in her arms, he knew he was going to see Arcadia—at least once—before letting it go.

Four
    A T THE COLLEGE, Byron was the only friend they told of their sudden good fortune, and even he was sworn to secrecy. Peter didn't want the news traveling around the campus quite yet, partly because he still wasn't sure what it all meant, and partly because he was by nature superstitious: What came so easily could just as easily disappear.
    On Wednesday morning, Peter called Kennedy's office and, after asking him two or three quick questions concerning the estate papers, said, “There's just one more thing. Meg and I would like to go out and see my grandfather's place this weekend.” Just saying the word “grandfather,” even to Kennedy, seemed like a betrayal of his mother. “What are we supposed to do about keys and getting in?”
    “Keys I don't think you'll need. The caretaker's still tending to the place. His name's Nikos, by the way, in case I haven't mentioned it. I'll have Connie call him from here and tell him you'll be by—when? Early Saturday afternoon?”
    “Yes, that's probably about right.”
    “Fine. If there's any problem, we'll get back to you.”
    “And could I ask one more favor? If you should