Threading the Needle Read Online Free PDF Page B

avoiding the bad end she felt sure you’d come to.” He lifted his gaze. “Shall I read them to you?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’ve heard them all—a million times.”
    Gene closed the folder. “Ghostly harangues aside, it’s all good for you. Gives you somewhere to go.”
    â€œSomewhere to go? Where?”
    Gene blinked and shook his head slightly, as if amazed by my denseness. “New Bern, of course. You need a place to live and now you’ve got one—Beecher Cottage.”
    The hot spot on my chest grew hotter and larger, spreading up my neck to my cheeks. “New Bern? I’m not going back to New Bern!”
    â€œI don’t see as you have a lot of choice, Madelyn. You’ve got to live somewhere. Why not New Bern? I hear it’s very picturesque. Lots of trees. Lots of scenery . . .”
    Lots of memories.
    â€œMost people would be thrilled to inherit a nice cottage in Connecticut.”
    â€œI’m not most people!” I snapped. “And I’m not going back to New Bern! Call a Realtor. Tell them to sell the house. Tell them I’ll consider any offer.”
    Gene took off his glasses, revealing his impatience. “Don’t be an idiot, Madelyn. The housing market has hit rock bottom. Or hadn’t you heard?”
    â€œYes,” I said, loathing Gene at least as much as he loathed me, “but there’s got to be someone out there who is willing to buy it if the price is right.”
    Gene shook his head. “I talked to your grandmother’s attorney, Franklin Spaulding. He told me that there hasn’t been a real estate closing in New Bern for the last seven months. Nobody is buying, not at any price.”
    â€œBut . . . there has to be . . . surely there’s . . . I can’t live in New Bern. . . .”
    Gene smacked his hands against his mahogany desk. I jumped, startled.
    â€œMadelyn! Will you listen to yourself? Not five minutes ago you were asking where you were going to live and what you were going to live on. I’ve gotten you a check for a hundred grand and a house and all you can do is gripe! If not for me, you’d be living in the state women’s prison. I think a little gratitude is in order here, don’t you?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Gene,” I said stiffly, knowing he was right, hating him for it.
    I’ve been around the block enough times to know that the truth isn’t always enough to protect the innocent. If I’d had a lawyer less talented than Eugene Janders, it was possible Sterling and I would both be living at the Metropolitan Correctional Center.
    â€œI don’t mean to appear unappreciative, but this is hard for me. I haven’t had time to adjust.”
    â€œYou’d better adjust, Madelyn, and quickly, because the party is over.”
    His tone was unsympathetic and his speech was frank. Clearly he thought this would be our last meeting and felt no need to mince words.
    â€œYou had a good ride with Sterling. When he married you, I thought you’d last a couple of years. Five, if you were lucky.” He looked me up and down, slowly, insultingly. “Clearly you possess talents that can’t be seen with the naked eye.”
    Four months ago, he’d never have dared to look at or speak to me that way. The balance of power had shifted. He knew it. I knew it. I said nothing.
    Gene stood up at his desk. The meeting was over. He handed me a manila envelope.
    â€œWhat’s this?”
    â€œA check, made out to you; a deed to the house; contact information for Wendy Perkins, the Realtor who is holding the keys; and a bill for legal services.”
    I looked at the papers. My jaw dropped open. “Nine thousand dollars?”
    â€œI gave you a discount. No need to thank me.”
    I didn’t.
    I picked up my purse and my papers and turned to walk across Gene’s hand-knotted silk rug, out the door, and into a future that would force