Of course a lot of the conversation centered on Tyler and the work he did in Hollywood, representing movie stars as well as producers and directors and some screenwriters. Although he professed not to have all that important a client list and that he really shouldn’t even mention any of his clients because of confidentiality issues, he let drop a few names Jeff definitely had heard of. Frankly, he was impressed that one of their little group appeared to be quite successful in the world. He started thinking his job selling real estate in southern Maine wasn’t all that much of an achievement.
“Ahh … It’s nothing, really,” Tyler said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “They’re just people like you and me, you know?”
“People like you and me with a shit-load of money, you mean” Fred said, laughing before he tilted his head back and drained his fifth or sixth beer of the evening.
No wonder you’ve got a weight problem, Jeff thought … and maybe a drinking problem, too. Fred had been knocking them back hard ever since supper, and he didn’t look like he was going to be slowing down any time soon.
Maybe he’s got a good reason to drink.
“So tell us,” Evan said, leaning forward with a lascivious leer. “You fucking any famous Hollywood stars?”
Jeff was taken aback that Evan would ask such a crude and personal question.
Maybe he wasn’t used to drinking like this, and the few beers he’d had were going to his head faster than expected. Jeff remembered Evan as always being somewhat aloof … someone who didn’t engage in the typical gross-out horseplay the others did, even as kids.
Maybe he said what he said so he could fit in a little better.
Or maybe he had a genuine prurient interested in Tyler’s sex life.
In any event, Tyler smiled and shook his head as he glanced down at the floor, clasped his hands, and said, “Can’t say that I have.”
“Can’t say is not the same as saying you never did,” Evan said.
Tyler paused and took a sip of beer, then added, “Although I have to admit there are a few I wouldn’t mind putting the ole’ wood to, if you catch my drift.”
“But you’re married,” Fred said.
“I am. And happily, believe it or not,” Tyler said, but he made a poking motion with his fist that made everyone burst out in gales of laughter … everyone, that is, except Evan, who looked a little bit pissed because Tyler had made light of his question and not given him a straight answer.
“Hey you guys,” Jeff said. “Remember those stories Mark used to tell us?” He was hoping to take the pressure off Tyler to reveal things he obviously didn’t want to talk about.
“Don’t get started about Hobomock,” Fred said. He folded his arms across his chest and made an exaggerated motion like he was shivering. “Fuckin-A, those stories used to scare the shit out of me.”
“Scarred him for life … as you can plainly see,” Tyler said with a smirking grin.
“No. Seriously.” Fred hunched forward and turned to face the fire. “There were times when we’d be out on an overnight camping trip or whatever, and Mark would tell us one of them stories just before we went to sleep, and I’d be up all night, worrying and waiting for some Indian demon or ghost or something to come and get me.”
“Do you remember any of the stories?” Evan asked in a hushed voice.
He had been sitting off to one side, as far away from the cigar smoke as he could get. Even now that the cigars were finished, he kept his distance. The orange firelight under-lit his face at an oblique angle, making his cheekbones and brow ridge stand out in sharp relief. Jeff thought his eyes appeared sunken, more deeply set than they did in daylight, as if they were sinking into his face. For the first time, he realized just how old Evan really looked. Time and worry had aged him like anyone else in the room, and in a dimly lit room like this, it really showed on him now that he was relaxed.
Jeff wasn’t the only one who had caught the odd note in Evan’s voice. Tyler shot him a questioning look and then glanced at Fred, whose face held an expression of increasing discomfort and maybe even fear.
Before anyone could say anything, a sudden gust of wind slammed against the dining hall, rattling