Didn't we almost have it all!
I wanna dance with somebody! /Help!/ A door opened. A bony older woman in black spandex leggings and an oversized Cal Ripken baseball jersey appeared next to the bed. For crying out loud! You'd think you were being attacked by Freddy Krueger or something. These here are just a few harmless budgie boys.
Kat panted, her mind a total confused mess of dream and wakefulness, and it took her a few seconds to realize everything was real. The pregnancy test… being told she could only stay in school until she showed..
. Riley breaking up with her… seeing her dad and that woman together in the studio… destroying the sculpture… her mother sending her away… the ride in the semi… and this ladywhat was her name again?this lady who'd made Kat toast and told her to lie down.
I'm going to puke, Kat said.
Not in here you ain't. The woman finished returning all the birds into their appropriate cages and double-checked the latches. You'll have to learn to keep an eye on Boris, here. He opens his cage and then goes around springing everyone else free, singing Top Forty hits the whole while.
Where's your bathroom? Kat knew she had no time for a chat.
The lady pointed into the hall. Second door on the left.
Kat leaped to her feet and barely made it into the bathroom before she tossed her toast. Her limbs felt so weak that she decided to stay curled up in a ball on the fuzzy pink bath rug for the rest of her life. She raised her head when she heard the shower running.
You'll feel better once you have a hot shower and put on some clean clothes. You and I are about the same size, so I'll get you something to wear.
Kat was rolling her eyes at the prospect of what fashion choices awaited her when a thin arm went around her waist and a strong hand pulled her to her feet. We're gonna have a nice long chat, you and me, figure out what's what. But right now, I've got to get over to the Sacred Heart o'
Jesus social hall. If I don't show up at least fifteen minutes early, lard-ass Josefina Dubrowski will try to take my lucky seat, and I need every penny I can get my hands on for that start-up IPO next Wednesday.
Huh? Kat felt unsteady. She'd understood exactly nothing of what the woman just said, but Kat thought it might have had something to do with Jesus and some kind of birth control. She really should have paid more attention in family health class.
Then the lady did the strangest thing. She kissed Kat on the cheek and gave her a hug. Knockers up, hon. You're going to be just fine. I'll be home by eleven. /Miami Vice/ is on tonight, if you like Don Johnson, and what normal girl doesn't? But don't go opening any of the cages while I'm away, because you're not used to the birdies yet. There's some Tuna Helper on a plate in the oven for you.
The instant the lady closed the bathroom door behind her, Kat was back on her knees on the fuzzy pink rug, the pain of loss in her gut and the words Tuna Helper ringing in her ears.
How long till we get there?
Nola's question snapped Kat out of the home movie that had been playing in her brain. She was surprised to find herself behind the wheel, and it took her a moment to remember that they were on their way to the hospital to check on her dad.
Kat put the Jaguar in fifth gear and let it loose on the country road, looking around her to get her bearings. The leaves of the Monongahela National Forest glimmered all around her like millions of gemstones in the sunset, and Kat felt guilty that all that extravagant beauty was wasted on her. She hadn't even noticed.
About fifteen minutes, she answered Nola. When Kat realized what she'd just said, a lump of dread formed in her chest. In that amount of time she'd be at Davis Memorial Hospital in Elkins, where she would encounter a mother and father she hadn't laid eyes on in twenty years. Her father would probably be hooked up to wires and tubes, and her mother would most definitely be hysterical. And the place itself didn't exactly hold fond memories for Kat, since the last time she'd been there was for that fateful visit to the family-planning clinic, where she'd found out she was going to have a family she hadn't planned.
Are you sure you're OK to drive, hon?
I'm great. /Poor Nola,/ Kat thought. She'd convinced her best friend to come along for a weekend of sweet revenge. So far they'd come up short on both counts.
I know this is turning into the road trip to hell, Kat said. I probably should have thought this through a little more.
Her friend dismissed her with a wave of her hand. The important thing is you're actually here, right now, dealing with the luggage you've been carrying around all these years. You're brave, hon.
Kat grinned, both at Nola's usual mangling of the language and at her wishful thinking. Bravery had nothing to do with this trip. Kat was here to rub a few noses in the aroma of her success. She wanted to collect a few heartfelt apologies. She wanted to say a few things to a few people and then get on with her lifewhatever exciting, adventurous, wonderful life she decided she wanted to have.
Or is it baggage? Nola wondered aloud.
It's baggage.
Right. Baggage. In fact, on /Oprah/ the other day they were talking about how facing your deepest fears head-on is the only path to inner peace and happiness. Nola checked her lip gloss in the mirror, then snapped the visor back into place with a chuckle. And I thought to myself, /Well, damn!/ No wonder so many of us are walking around so fucking miserable all the time. Who wants to do that?
Kat laughed. Nola had been making her laugh since their first day in English 101 at Baltimore City Community College fifteen years and three husbands ago. None of Nola's marriages had resulted in kids, but she'd long ago volunteered to round out the trinity of mother figures in Aidan's life. It never failed to amaze Kat how normal her kid had turned out, considering that he was raised by an unwed hillbilly teenager, a chain-smoking parakeet lady, and a tough little Italian girl with highly sophisticated street smarts and extremely loose morals.
Kat smiled to herself, thinking maybe that was why Aidan seemed so comfortable around women of any age, shape, ethnicity, or state of mindhe'd already seen it all.
Now, what I want to know is how come Riley Bohunk was the one who called the B and B with the news about your dad?
Kat had been wondering the same thing, and shrugged. He probably heard about it around town, found out where I was staying, and decided to let me know.
Must be hard to keep a secret in a place this size. Nola fluffed her newly cut and colored hair, and Kat had to admit that her friend looked like a million bucks. After being waxed, tweezed, exfoliated, manicured, foiled, trimmed, and polished within an inch of their lives, they both did. And the actual cost was only about thirty-five grand, including the week in the Royal Suite at the Four Seasons and the retail therapy sessions at Barneys. The XJ7 with the moonroof, the navigation system, heated seats, and iPod interface was a little extra.
News travels fast around here, Kat said.
So your parents probably know you're back.
Oh yeah. I'm thinking that's why my dad keeled over.
Nola stared out the window and craned her neck to see the top of the tree line. It's real pretty here, Kat. If you like the country, I mean.
Personally, I'd go ape shit if I had to live outside of Bawlmer County.
I bet you can't find a decent calzone within a hundred miles.
Kat chuckled. I would imagine you're correct about that.
Persuasion sure is a weird name for a town, though. What's the story with that?
Kat couldn't recall the last time she'd thought about the fable. They teach every elementary school kid that this Scottish guy named Harmon McEvoy got a land grant and settled in the valley in the late seventeen hundreds. When he brought his wife here to join him, she completely freaked, refusing to live so far from civilization and so close to the Indians.
Nola threw up her hands. Like I saidno calzones!
Exactly. So Harmon built her a nice house and convinced her to stay. He /persuaded/ her to stay.
Nola pursed her lips and nodded. Huh. I bet if that Scottish dude looked like Riley Bohunk, then the girl would've lived in a teepee and been damn glad about it.
Kat shook her head, laughing. You've got to stop calling him that, Nola, or I'm going to end up saying it.
Well, he /is/ a hunk, and if you'd been more specific about his level of hunkiality we'd have made this trip a long time ago, and even though I am no longer interested in men and never will be again under any circumstances, I have to admithe's hot.
Kat sighed. He really was something special. So smart. So intense. So gorgeous. Still is.
Duh. I think we've established that. Nola's hand settled gently on Kat's forearm. Are you sure you're ready for this, hon?
Kat tensed, aware that Nola was asking about the encounter with her parents. I guess I better be, since we're almost there.
Kat? Nola adjusted her position in the deep bucket seat to face her more directly. Did you ever come close to coming back home? I mean, you always seemed so damned independent and sure of yourself, but wasn't there ever a time when you just wanted to come home and tell them everythingwhere you went, what you were doing, show them Aidan? Weren't you ever even /tempted/?
More than she'd ever let on, Kat knew. There were times when she'd been knocked to her knees with emptiness. She needed to feel Riley. She needed to hear her mom's voice. One night, when Aidan was about two, Kat waited for Phyllis to leave for bingo and packed up the baby stuff and bolted. Kat made it to the corner of Eastern and Conkling and waited about fifteen minutes for the No. 57 bus that would get her to Union Station, and eventually Persuasion. But she turned around. She pushed the stroller through the neighborhood and went right back up the marble steps to Phyllis' row house. Who was she kidding? She was already home.
If home was a place where you were loved and accepted no matter what you did, where there was no hitting and screaming and no secrets except for the ones you held far down in your heart, then the little row house at 456 California Avenue was the only real home she'd ever had.
Phyllis kept asking me if I was sure I didn't want to write my mom, Kat said. But she eventually stopped. I guess she figured it was like talking to a wall.
Nola settled back into the plush leather and sighed deeply. I never really understood that part. I mean, don't get me wrongit's no coincidence that?dysfunction' and?D'Agostino' both begin with a /d./ But we're still a family. Maybe we're all misogynists, but we stick together. I couldn't imagine just cutting myself off from them the way you did.
I know you can't. And I think you mean?masochist.'
You may be right.
Kat watched the sun begin to slip behind the trees. She cracked the window, thinking that the air would blow away the pain. It did just the opposite. She smelled her childhood. Wet leaves, pine needles, mountain rain, rich soiland the stink of buried secrets. /This is a private family matter, Katharine, and everyone would misunderstand… Your father is a good man and he never means to hurt me… He's under so much pressure with his art and I know I can get on his nerves… Why don't you run on outside and play?… He works so hard to support us… He'll be in a better mood tomorrow..
../ Kat pulled the Jaguar onto Randolph Avenue and spotted the hospital complex a few blocks away. She gripped the steering wheel hard, hoping Nola wouldn't see her hands tremble. It had been many years since Kat had allowed her mother's voice into her head like that, and it had arrived so sharp and lifelike that Kat almost expected to turn and see BettyAnn Cavanaugh sitting in the passenger seat next to her.
Kat dared to look but was greeted by a scowling Nola.
You just went white as a sheet and you're shaking. I better drive.
We're here, Kat told her, swinging into the hospital parking garage.
Let's just get this over with.
Caroline Mathis, M.D., Ph.D., flipped the cell phone shut and took a moment to center herself. As much as she appreciated Madeline's timely updates on Kat Cavanaugh's comings and goings, they certainly wreaked havoc with Carrie's peace of mind. She knew the secret to her success had always been balancea delicate titration of all elements of her life flowing together in a synthesis of logic and emotion, action and stillness, effort and acceptance. And that's how she'd handle this latest snag in her plans. It never failed. She'd simply breathe the balance in, and breathe it out again. /That bitch-whore!/ Carrie shocked herself. She hadn't meant to shout that out loud. She must be losing it. She hoped to God that her voice hadn't carried through her office door. She smacked the intercom button of her speakerphone with the flat of her hand. Alice?… I'm sorry to ask you to do this at the last minute, but could you please cancel my lecture tonight at the Board of Medicine? Something's come up in Persuasion.
Alice was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. Are you all right, Dr.
Mathis? I thought I heard you yell in there. Is it the diabetes study?
Did I yell? Oh no! I just stubbed my toe! Can you believe it? Carrie jumped from her chair and began to pace in front of the wide bank of windows overlooking the West Virginia State Capitol.
Would you like me to reschedule?
Carrie stared, her mind a blur. /That bitch is going to ruin everything!
That bitch is going to ruin my entire lifeagain!/ Dr. Mathis?
Oh yes. Absolutely.
After the holidays?
Good. Good.
I don't even think the board meets toward the end of the year, so should I try for January?
Carrie chewed on the inside of her cheek. She chomped down so hard she drew blood, but somehow she didn't mind the pain. It cleared her head.
Dr. Mathis?
January would be perfect, Alice. Thanks.