The girl most likely to…

by Susan Donovan

  Kat heard the creak of the floorboards as Big Daddy moved all the way into Riley's room.

  Are you out of your mind, Son?

  She needed somebody to talk to, Daddy.

  Didn't know talkin' could get so messy.

  I didn't touch her.

  You expect me to believe she just up and started bleeding like that?

  That's exactly what happened, sir. She started her period.

  What the?

  Kat could feel the laser beam of Big Daddy's stare cutting a hole right through the bathroom door. She took a step back.

  Virgil's been puttin' a beating on BettyAnn this morning. Kat was scared and she ran over here.

  There was an instant of silence; then Big Daddy moved again. He's doin' /what/?

  Hitting her. Beating her up. He gets drunk out in his studio, stays there all night fussin' over his stupid sculptures, then comes in and beats the shit out of BettyAnnlike everything's her fault.

  Another silent pause. Kat had to put her ear back against the door to hear Big Daddy clearly. Do you mean to tell me that you've known about this and never came to me?

  Riley's response was just as faint. Kat begged me not to say anything to anybody, because she thinks she's gonna be next if she tells.

  Big Daddy blew air out of his nose and groaned. Boy, she's damn right she's gonna be next, but only if something's not done to stop him. You better listen and listen goodif you ever hear about anything like this again in the future, you tell me. You understand?

  Yes, sir.

  I will never be angry if you come to me with the truthabout anything, no matter how bad it is, and that's a promise. Now, answer me, Son. Did you, or did you not, take that girl's virginity?

  No!

  All right, then. Big Daddy shifted his weight and the floor crackled beneath him. But something happened. I'm not blind.

  Kat couldn't hear Riley's answer, but the words had the rhythm of a confession.

  Big Daddy's response was angry: No son of mine is gonna ruin his life by getting a girl pregnant before he's even out of junior high school. It happens, but it's not going to happen to a Bohland. Do you understand?

  Yes, sir.

  Now go get some of them female pads out of the hallway storage closet and take them to Kat. I'm gonna have myself a nice little man-to-man with Virgil Cavanaugh.

  In the two days she'd been back from Persuasion, memories like that one had come hard at Kat, full of detail and out of nowhere. In fact, she was remembering events and conversations she hadn't thought of a single time since the night she'd hopped in Cliff Turner's truck and ended up right here, in Phyllis' Baltimore row house. It was as if Kat's disastrous visit had opened a can of past and pain, and now she couldn't get the lid back on.

  The knock at the door forced Kat to remember why she was there. After months of procrastinating, she'd finally called a real estate agent to look at Phyllis' place, and she'd arrived right on time. It didn't take Kat long to show her aroundthere wasn't a lot to seeand she waited to hear her opinion.

  If you're willing to spend about forty thousand for upgrades, you'll earn six times that at sale, no problem. Just replace the kitchen cabinets and countertops. Install new appliances. Floors. Update the bath. Rip out the old carpet. Paint. Update the wiring and plumbing. The furnace.

  Kat nodded, looking past Julianna Dubrowski and her file folder to study Phyllis' kitchen, trying to view the room with an objective eye. No luck. All Kat saw was scenes from her lifebaking that chocolate cake from scratch for Aidan's first birthday, the night the pipes under the sink burst and flooded the whole first floor, and the rip-roaring fight she'd had with Phyllis the day Kat told her she'd decided not to apply to a four-year college but to work full-time and move into her own place instead.

  No potential buyer would be as sentimental. They'd only see the faded yellow walls, peeling mintgreen linoleum, and metallic red countertops from the era of beehive hairdos. It dawned on Kat that the term upgrade didn't do justice to the amount of work the real estate agent had just suggested.

  Sounds like we'd have to gut the place.

  Basically, yes.

  Kat laughed. You realize she didn't spend that much to buy the entire house back in 1973?

  Julianna smiled with glee. Oh, I know! That's the beauty of these vintage Highlandtown row houses, especially the ones across from the parkshe could get close to a quarter of a million for it!

  Kat made an effort to return the smile but didn't have the energy. She won't get any of it, Julianna. She's dead.

  The agent's eyes went wide with embarrassment. Of course! Sorry. I knew Phyllis Turner. Well, I knew /of/ her, anyway. Everyone in the neighborhood did, and everyone was shocked to hear that she passed.

  Julianna hugged her folder to her chest. My mother played bingo with Phyllis at Sacred Heart, you know. She said she was unbelievablecould handle two dozen cards at a time. And the birds. We all knew about the birds.

  She had quite a few.

  And frankly, just between you and me, Julianna leaned close and lowered her voice like she was worried the linoleum might overhear her comment, my gut feeling was the house would be even more of a mess than it is.

  I'm a little surprised there's no… you know… pet odor.

  Kat nodded, wishing Phyllis herself were here to respond to this. She could just imagine itPhyllis in her housecoat with a Newport Light dangling from her lips. /Move your vulture butt on out of my house,/ she'd say. /The only gut you should be focused on is the one that hangs over your mother's stretch pants./ And the idea of Phyllis Turner being a multimillionaire! It's completely insane! You can't make up this sort of stuff! Exactly how much was she worth when she died?

  Kat felt like bonking Julianna in the head with her folder for being so insensitive. She was worth quite a bit. Excuse me a second.

  Kat moved into the tiny dining area and stared out the sliding glass door. She missed Phyllis like hell. Kat missed her cackle of a laugh and her firsthand reports on the Baltimore City Council meetings, which she attended in person every Monday night and analyzed with zeal. Kat missed how Phyllis would offer advice to anyone within shouting range on relationships, career, parenting, and managing the Baltimore Oriolesall subjects she'd had precious little personal experience with in her own life.

  Around Highlandtown, Phyllis was known for her eccentricities and that's all, because that's where Phyllis wanted it to end. She didn't see the need for anyone knowing too much about her affairs, and the fact that the kids called her the Crazy Parakeet Lady just made her laugh. Only Kat and Cliff knew the whole story, and that's the way Phyllis liked it.

  Julianna hadn't finished with the subject at hand, apparently. My mother said Phyllis played the stock market and had four million when she died.

  Is that true?

  Not quite. (It had been $3.8 million, not that it was anyone's business.) So what happened to all the birds?

  We found homes for them.

  She was sure an unusual lady.

  Kat put a palm up against the cool glass. What Phyllis had been was unusually kindso much so that it took Kat over a year to trust her. Kat thought she was just too good to be true. She never called the authorities on Kat. Phyllis was quick to get Kat hooked up with everything she neededprenatal care, GED classes, baby supplies, even a Social Security card. How many people would have done that? How many people would have welcomed a pissed-off, pregnant kid with a gigantic chip on her shoulder and asked for nothing in return? Who else but Phyllis Turner would have waited weeks before she even inquired about Kat's family? Who else would have simply let the gossip become the truththat Kat Turner was the orphaned child of Phyllis' second cousin, a girl who'd gotten herself in trouble and had nowhere else to go, and she'd be staying for as long as she liked.

  Kat knew she'd owed Phyllis the truth about where she came from, who she was, and how she ended up hitchhiking to Baltimore, but she never found the courage to tell her. She convinced herself that it wo
uld hurt less if she just pretended none of it ever happened. So now, at age thirty-seven, Kat was left with lies /on top/ of the hurt, which, as it turned out, had just been lounging around all those years, picking its teeth, waiting for just the right moment to pop up and slap her upside the head.

  Apparently, that time was now.

  So, I'd like to talk price if we could.

  Julianna's voice faded into the background as the weight of the situation hit Kat: Now that Riley Bohland knew how to find Aidan, it was only a matter of daysif not hoursbefore everything blew up. She had to get to Aidan before Riley did. She had to be the one to tell her son the truth, not a stranger.

  Kat leaned her forehead against the sliding door and shut her eyes for a moment. There wasn't room in her life for fantasies anymore. She could no longer pretend. She'd gone back to Persuasion to get revenge and returned with the empty truth. Her mother was gone. Phyllis was gone.

  Kat and Riley had been stupid, horny kidsnot each other's soul mates.

  And she would now have to right twenty years of wrongs with her son.

  Clearly, Kat's basic approach to life was in need of the same level of upgrades as Phyllis' row house.

  How does that sound, Kat? Would you like some time to think about it?

  Kat gazed out at the tiny fenced yard, its summer lushness fading from the chilly nights and waning sun. Kat looked twice at the tangled hedge of rosebushes and wondered if Phyllis had been too tired in the spring and early summer to prune her beloved plants. If so, Kat hadn't noticed.

  Every time she'd asked if there was anything she could do, Phyllis would dismiss her offer and tell her to concentrate on her own life. /This old broad is still full of piss and vinegar,/ she'd say. /You should be out there trying to drum up some excitement of your own while you're still young./ Phyllis died sitting in her Barcalounger by the front window, /Good Morning America/ on TV and the sports section of /The Sun/ on her lap. A massive stroke, the doctors said. The parish priest assured Kat that Phyllis had left this world in peace. As they soon found out, she'd also left this world stinking rich. To Uncle Cliff and his family Phyllis bequeathed her Cal Ripken Jr. autographed baseball and a million dollars nobody knew she had. To Kat and Aidan she left everything elsethe house, forty parakeets, and the balance of her money market accounts, stocks, mutual funds, and IRAs.

  I can't do this. Kat spun around in time to see Julianna's mouth fall open in surprise. I just realized I can't sell. It's the only part of Phyllis that still exists. I'll fix it up and live here myself.

  Julianna gave a little shrug and handed Kat her card. The market is very unpredictable. And mortage rates may not I understand. I apologize if I wasted your time.

  As Kat ushered Julianna through the small living room and out the front door, her cell phone rang. She yanked the phone from her front pocket.

  Aidan! Finally!

  What's up, Mom? Everything OK?

  Fine. Hey, have you gotten any strange phone calls you want to tell me about? The line went quiet. Aidan?

  Uh, does this one count?

  In her head, Kat let out a giant sigh of relief. Funny, she said.

  So you and Nola survived the Big Apple?

  How could Kat explain to her son that they'd conquered Manhattan just fine but gotten their asses kicked in Persuasion, West Virginia? Aidan had no idea they'd driven therein fact, Aidan didn't know there was such a place, that his father lived there, or that his life was about to be upended.

  Kat steeled herself to do what was right. Starting today, everything would be on the up-and-up. Aidan would demand it. He deserved it.

  New York was great, honey. We're both gorgeous now, in case you were wondering. So can I take you to lunch?

  Today?

  Yes, today.

  I've got a two o'clock physics lab.

  It's only eleven. We'll grab something quick. I'd really like to talk with you. It's important.

  I guess, but…

  How about we meet at the G and A? When's the last time you had a decent chili dog?

  It was barely noon, and the day was turning out to be one for the record books. Riley had a waiting room full of impatient patients. Carrie had been paging him all morning, asking for a few moments of his time. The clinic's new general contractor e-mailed to inform Riley that all the electrical work done by the old contractor was not up to code. And the short meeting Riley had tried to squeeze in with the loan officer first thing that morning had lasted an hour, and ended with a tidy, tri-folded legal document being shoved in Riley's hand.

  It seemed the First National Bank of Persuasion wasn't pleased with his sporadic payment plan of the last six months and had decided to foreclose on the lien and put the Bohland House up for auction.

  But no word from Kat.

  Riley paced his office and groaned out loud in frustration. Kat coming back was a miracle and a mistake all at once. Why wouldn't she return his calls? What made her blow out of town without a good-bye, without a plan for how they would proceed with Aidan? Nothing made any sense, and Riley had spent the last two days in a state of agitation. Matt said he'd run into Kat and her friend in front of the house Sunday morning and that Kat had seemed goofy and nervous, but normally so. Matt had talked to Madeline at Cherry Hill and she said the women ate breakfast and abruptly checked out, but that nothing obvious had been amiss.

  Once Virgil was out of recovery, Riley asked him if he'd heard from his daughter. Why would I? was his response.

  So Riley was left wondering what had happened between the post-sex bliss and the burning-rubber way she left town. Was this some kind of compulsion for Kat? Did she run away as a hobby? Was this how she'd always been and would always be? If he tried to get to know her again, was this what he'd have to look forward tosweet, hot love followed by this body-snatcher disappearance act?

  There was a knock on his office door. Izzy poked her head in, and he held up a hand before his nurse could relay the obvious.

  I know. I know. It looks like I'll have to shuffle some appointments into next week.

  True, but I wish it were only that. A pained look spread across her face. I hate to tell you this, but Dr. Mathis is in the waiting room, demanding to see you. She's making a bit of a scene.

  You've got to be joking.

  Knock-knock! Carrie peeked over Izzy's head, and flashed her high-voltage smile.

  Izzy looked like she was going to cry. I'm so sorry, Dr. Bohland!

  It's OK. Not a problem. Riley motioned for Carrie to come in, and she immediately closed the door and posed up against it, hands clasped demurely behind her back. She wore a black skirt and matching jacket, obviously custom tailored, because it fit so tightly, Riley figured he'd have trouble wedging a piece of dental floss between the fabric and her skin.

  You're a hard man to reach, Riley.

  That's because I'm not reachable. He leaned back in his chair and rocked, wondering what alternate universe he'd once called home, because he actually used to think Carrie Mathis was a warm, loving, and decent woman. He was almost ashamed to admit he'd fallen for that act not once, but twicefor their whole first year of med school and then again, three years ago, when Carrie started her statewide diabetes project and chose Persuasion as one of her data collection sites.

  Maybe he was blinded by her smile. Maybe he'd given up on ever finding love againthe kind of love he'd once felt with Katand decided that settling for a successful, attractive colleague wasn't the worst fate in the world.

  From her deathbed, BettyAnn Cavanaugh had saved Riley's life.

  What do you want, Carrie?

  She let loose with a throaty laugh. Oh, now, that's a loaded question.

  Riley shook his head. I'm at a loss here. Help me out. What exactly do you need to hear before you understand it's over between us?

  Carrie looked offended.

  Because, from where I sit, it looks pretty cut-and-dry. I ignore your phone calls and pages because I don't want to talk to you. I tell my staff no
t to let you in the door because I don't want to see you. Would you prefer I hire a skywriter? Put it on a billboard by the highway?

  Place an ad in the /Charleston Daily Mail/?

  Riley watched her top lip twitch, its glossy surface catching the light.

  It amazed him that he'd once found her beautiful. Compared to Kat, Carrie seemed plastic.

  Pardon me, Riley, but I thought you might want to hear some good news.

  What?

  I heard the clinic is going to be a funding priority this legislative session.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. I didn't hear the funding freeze had been lifted.

  It hasn't. Not yet. But when it is Riley rose from his chair. Carrie had picked the wrong day to try to screw with him. He walked around his desk and went toward her.

  Three years ago, it was Carrie's enthusiasm alone that had conjured up state funding for the Persuasion Rural Health Clinic. Though he couldn't prove it, he knew it was her spitefulness that had gotten the funding pulledit was no coincidence that the legislature reneged soon after Riley called off the wedding and broke up with Carrie once and for all.

  Because of her, Riley had mortgaged everything he owned, and the clinic was still more than a million dollars shortand that was before he'd learned the whole place would have to be rewired! /God, what a stinking mess./ Thanks for the update, Carrie. I'll have our lawyer make a few calls.

  She shook her head, incredulous. That's it?

  That's it. Don't ever show up here again. Got it?

  Carrie's lips parted. Riley heard her let out a soft squeak of indignation before she turned on her high heels and left.

  Kat watched Aidan start in on his third chili dog, all the while talking about how he might change his major to biochemical engineering.

  Mom, seriously. There is so much amazing shit going on in stem cell researchespecially now that they've determined that other cells can yield the same kind of potent regenerative capabilities as in embryos.