The girl most likely to…

by Susan Donovan

  So you've been living in Baltimore all these years.

  Kat nodded wearily. How did you know I was coming to see you today?

  From what I understand, you were supposed to come see me the evening of January seventh, nineteen-eighty-eight, she said with a laugh. That's what your mother told you to do.

  I didn't feel like it. You'd just thrown me out of school, remember?

  Rita shook her head. Oh, Katharine, you're still the same smart-alecky know-it-all you were in tenth grade, only hearing the parts you choose to hear.

  Kat felt like screaming.

  What I said to you that day was that you could attend classes until you began to show. I didn't kick you out. Those are two different things.

  Right. My mistake.

  Rita drove on in silence while Kat gained the courage to do what she'd come here for.

  I think your response was unbelievably cruel, Rita.

  She looked sideways at Kat with irritation.

  I was a child, Kat continued. I was scared to death. And all you cared about was how it would reflect on you.

  The whole family, Katharine. I cared about how it would reflect on your parents as well.

  Kat shook her head. This is Persuasion we're talking about. Even if I never set foot in school again, everyone would still know I was pregnant.

  I'll tell you what the real tragedy is, Katharinethat an intelligent girl like you couldn't keep her drawers on a bit longer.

  That was enough. Stop. I'm getting out of the car.

  Oh, please. Rita waved her hand to dismiss the request. This won't take but a second. I just want to give you a few boxes of your mother's things that she wanted you to have. As soon as I heard you were in town, I brought them down from the attic.

  Kat propped her elbow on the edge of the passenger's-side window and held her forehead in her hand. She wondered what things her mother could have possibly wanted her to have. Sentimentality was never a quality Kat had associated with BettyAnn Cavanaugh.

  Have you spoken to your father?

  Only briefly at the hospital.

  Rita nodded. You really should have a talk with him. It would be good for you both. I know he would appreciate it.

  Kat laughed at that one. He hasn't appreciated a single thing I've done in my life.

  He won't be around forever, you know, and once he's dead, that's it.

  Just like my mother, Kat said.

  Rita turned down the street where she'd lived as long as Kat could remember. Come grab one of the boxes, she told Kat.

  The moment she stepped inside Rita's foyer, Kat became nauseous.

  Something about the smell of the home caused Kat's throat to tighten and her stomach to cramp. She felt panicky. Rita looked at her like she was crazy, so Kat picked up a carton and carried it to the trunk, talking sense to herself, recalling how she'd read somewhere that smell was the most primitive sense, hardwired to the brain's memory center. Kat got another box and repeated the process, and this time the sensation hit her even more strongly. Thankfully, Rita carried the last box.

  When they were back in the car, Rita looked at Kat and asked, Is something wrong?

  No more than usual, Kat answered.

  Well then, do you remember Joanna Loveless? She was a year ahead of you, I think.

  I guess.

  She's the editor of the local paper now, and she inquired whether you might agree to be interviewed for a holiday feature articlea kind of a homecoming thing.

  Ugh.

  That's what I told her you'd say.

  Rita pulled up in front of the bungalow on Laurel Lane, which made Kat laugh.

  I didn't tell you where I was living.

  You didn't have to.

  Rita waited in the car, staring out the window at something way down the street that must have been fascinating while Kat carried the boxes inside, one by one. /Cold, cold, cold/. That was all Kat could think as she moved the cartons. It was more than a word, though. It was an image, a feeling, and it wasn't just about her aunt's lovely personality. The feeling was so severe that there wasn't room in Kat's senses for anything else but all that freezing /cold/.

  Rita drove away with a casual wave and Kat entered her own comfortable retreat. That's when it dawned on herit was a taste she was remembering, not a smell, and it was steadily rising from the depths of her childhood and placing itself right on her tongue.

  Kat felt heavy and weak. When the front door opened, she didn't have the energy to look up to see who it was.

  When you shell out for premium leather furniture, you don't have to sit on the floor anymore, hon. Nola breezed in. And I thought we finished unpacking a long time ago. Did you find more boxes?

  Kat felt awareness returning to her body. She was in the middle of her living room floor, sitting cross-legged on the new rug, with her left foot asleep. She still had her coat on. She looked up at Nola.

  Oh my God! What's wrong? Nola collapsed down on her knees in front of Kat. Darlin', are you all right? What happened? Are you hurt? You've been crying. Nola touched Kat's cheek, then the wet lapel of Kat's corduroy jacket. I'm calling Riley.

  No. Kat's eyes began to focus. She must really be in bad shape if Nola looked that horrified. I'm OK.

  Nola unbuttoned Kat's jacket and peeled it off her arms. She hoisted her up and got her to lie on the couch. I'll heat some water for tea. Stay right there. Don't move.

  All this hullabaloo was about ice cream, for God's sakehomemade peach ice cream. Kat slapped her own cheeks. What kind of woman had to lie down on the couch to recover from thinking of peach ice cream? At least it now made sense why Kat had hated the taste and smell of peaches her whole life. Funny how those things worked.

  Nola returned, moving Kat's legs so she could sit down next to her.

  Riley's on his way.

  Kat shut her eyes and groaned. That wasn't necessary.

  What's going on, hon? Nola reached out and moved a strand of hair back from Kat's face. You didn't go see Virgil, did you?

  Kat shook her head. His sister.

  That trifling principal bitch.

  Kat laughed, reaching to touch Nola's arm. Thanks for having my back.

  Always.

  So how did the interview go? Kat knew that Nola had interviewed for a job as a paralegal at the town's only lawyer's office.

  I got it, of course. Where are they gonna find someone like me all the way out here? A grin spread over Nola's face. And Matt's going to be thrilled.

  Kat sat up slowly, feeling a little better, and not wanting Riley to walk in and find her stretched out like an invalid. That's great news, Nola.

  So what happened with your aunt?

  Kat shook her head. I feel ridiculous. All I do is whine to you and Riley about all this stuff about my past, and I'm sure you're both sick of it by now.

  Nope. Nola stroked Kat's arm. Coming back here is just flogging your memory is all. It's perfectly natural.

  Kat smiled. Her friend might have chosen the wrong word, but she had the right ideaKat's brain did feel like it was being flogged. Thanks, she told Nola.

  Now spill it. What did you remember? More about the sculpture? Your mom?

  Kat folded her hands in her lap and decided she'd just tell it straight and get it over with. It was such a stupid thing, really.

  I was at my aunt Rita's for some kind of summer picnic. I think I was about seven. I kept asking my dad when I could have some ice creamsomebody had churned a big batch of peach ice cream. Kat took a moment to steady herself. My dad told me I had to wait until he said it was time, but I just kept bugging him.

  I think I remember this.

  Kat jolted at the sound of Riley's voice. He stood in the entrance to the living room looking handsome and worried. His hands were dug deep into his pockets.

  Do you? Kat asked.

  Parts of it, anyway. It was your mom's birthday.

  Seriously? Kat had tried to extract that particular detail but couldn't.

  My mo
m was the one in charge of the ice cream, Riley said. Big Daddy was there and Matt was just a toddler running around. Riley walked into the room, stepped over the boxes, and sat on the couch on the other side of Kat. He took one of her hands and Nola took the other.

  Kat had to laugh. This is not a huge deal, guys. Really. I'm not going to need to be resuscitated or anything. They didn't budge.

  Tell us what happened next, Kat. Riley's voice was particularly gentle.

  You probably already know.

  Tell it anyway.

  Kat took a breath. My mom told him not to be so hard on me, that the other kids were getting their ice cream, so I shouldn't have to wait.

  Riley nodded.

  Virgil was drunk. He started yelling at my mom. Kat's blood began to pound and black spots jumped in her vision, and she found it annoying that her body considered this so much more frightening than her common sense did. I remember being ashamed. I don't remember exactly what my dad said, but I couldn't believe he would talk to my mom like that in front of people, because I thought it was only supposed to happen at home.

  I know exactly what he said. Riley put an arm around her shoulders. Can I tell you what I remember from that day?

  Kat nodded.

  Virgil told your mother she was stupid and that she had no right to question how he raised you.

  Kat stared at Riley. Oh my God. You're right. That's what he said!

  What a prick, Nola contributed. She gave Kat's hand a firm squeeze. What happened next?

  Well, this is where it gets really weird. Kat paused, telling herself that she'd get through the rest without stopping. The next thing I know, my dad's got me in his lap and I'm looking straight up at the clouds, and there is this sudden pain in my throat, and I tried to scream, but no sound would come out because… because… Kat choked on the words.

  You can do this, Riley whispered to her, holding her tightly around the shoulders. He can't hurt you now.

  Kat clung to the cadence of Riley's words and the safety of his arms around her. She told herself he was rightshe could do this. Her entire body began to shake.

  That fucker shoved a big spoon of ice cream down my throat and told me to enjoy it because it was the last ice cream I'd ever get! It hurt so much! He hurt me! It was freezing cold and sharp inside my throat and I couldn't… I couldn't breatheI couldn't /breathe/! Oh God! Why did he have to be so mean all the time?

  Kat buried her face in the heat and safety of Riley's body and cried.

  After what felt like hours, she willed herself to take slow, deep breaths and pay attention to the voices floating around her. Riley's soft baritone promised she was safe and lovedover and over he promised her that. Nola was right in the middle of a long list of Balmerese obscenities when Riley asked her to chill out. Then Matt walked in and added his own words of comfort.

  Kat eventually sat up, her insides feeling scraped out like a jack-o'-lantern's. Nola handed her some tissues. Everyone stared at her, worried.

  I'm going to be fine, she said, knowing it was true. Virgil couldn't hurt her anymore. Neither could Rita or anyone else. Kat was a grown-up now, and had control of her own life. She had her own place. Kat turned to Riley and gave him a shaky smile, aware that the biggest difference of all was that now she wasn't alone.

  Big Daddy pulled Virgil off of you, Riley added as an afterthought, his hands rhythmically stroking Kat's hair as he talked. Then he escorted your dad by the shirt collar and put him in the car. The two of them drove off and never made it back to the party. I always wondered what happened.

  Matt laughed. Doesn't take a hell of a lot of wonderin' if you ask me.

  Hey, Kat? Nola's voice sounded small.

  Yeah?

  Nola looked like she was going to cry, so Kat rubbed her knee. I really am OK, Nola.

  Hell yes, you are, she said. I just need to apologize for ever questioning why you ran away. Nola shook her head. That guy was bad news. You probably saved your life and your baby's life by leaving this town, plain and simple. And do you know what that makes you?

  Kat shook her head.

  A freakin' /hero/, hon.

  Kat allowed the warmth of that word to spread through her. Maybe Nola was right.

  Without warning, Matt squatted, pulled out a penknife, and sliced open one of the boxes. I'll unpack these last few for you, he said.

  Virgil felt energized and brave. The buzz of power raced through his body, down his arms, and into his hands, where he would use it to give form to the raw beauty of the stone. Virgil had long understood that working with marble was the opposite of dealing with women. Marble was at its best when the artist respected its essence and found a way to coax its inner beauty out into the open. Women, Virgil knew from personal experience, must be molded to fit an outer structure.

  Marble needed to be set free. Women needed to be managed. And any man who didn't understand that was a fool.

  Even through Virgil's earplugs, the tapping of his heavy chisel against the rock sounded like an elaborate orchestral movement to him, the music of making art. He was working free-form today, not sure what had possessed him to risk it, without even a rough pencil sketch on the stone to guide his way. He knew instinctively what lay at the core of this solid, creamy pink block of Italian Carrara he'd been saving for over a decadefor what, he'd never known. Not until today. And his hands were flying and his mind was spinning and he was releasing, releasing, releasing the feminine from this rock, more than one face, more than one mouth, more than one set of eyes. He was releasing all that had been haunting him. All those women. Those breasts. Those buttocks. Those thighs.

  Virgil suddenly stepped back, ripped off his goggles and paper mask, and walked back toward the door to get a better look. The dust was flying.

  His chest was tight.

  He couldn't die nownot fucking now!

  He replaced the goggles and mask and went back to work. He picked up a point chiseler, a riffler, and saw them all coming at himweak BettyAnn, lusty Eleanor, know-it-all Katharine, and so many other faces. Then there was the doctor lady. He'd dreamed of her again last night, naked and willing and silent. And all these women blurred together into one vision, and it flew out of the stone and into his brain, through his fingers, back into the stone, and back into his brain again. He was easing the beauty out of the big chunk of marble while still managing to keep all those women in line. It was a delicate balance, but he could do it. He was the only sculptor who could.

  Virgil stopped again, the old craving running so hard through his body that he felt faint. He wanted the doctor lady. Right here. Her smooth skin and dark hair. He needed to see the tops of her breasts, her clavicle, the slope of her thin shoulders. He needed to have her sit for him. He wanted to get his hands on her, choke the haughtiness right out of her.

  Because he wasn't allowed to touch Kat.

  His chest tightened again.

  He refused to die before he'd brought his exquisite vision to life.

  Matt pulled the flaps of the cardboard box apart, and a fold of red fabric poked through the opening. Kat gasped. Riley looked at her face and knew that whatever was in that box, she wanted nothing to do with it.

  Stop right now, she said sharply.

  Matt glanced up with surprised eyes, his knife poised over another box.

  You don't want me to unpack these? He sounded hurt.

  I'll take care of it later. Kat tried to sound casual. I'm just pretty tired right now is all.

  Matt shrugged. You kick back and relax then, and I'll just No. Leave it.

  Riley watched Kat smooth over her abruptness with Matt, and soon she had Matt and Nola talking excitedly about Nola's new job at Richard Keefauver's legal office in town. Riley wasn't sure how he felt about the two of them moving at the speed of light like thisNola had already given her notice at her job in Baltimorebut he gave her a big hug of congratulations as she and Matt headed out the door. Matt and Nola were adults. Just because Matt put the wild in Wild, Wonderful Wes
t Virginia and Nola had collected one husband per decade of her life didn't mean the two of them couldn't discover something that could last. One thing was for damn sureRiley had no place judging anyone else's love life.

  I need a distraction, Kat said. She paced in the foyer, running her hands through her hair in exasperation. I need to get my mind off all this crap for a little while. In fact, I think I might need to hit something. She looked up at Riley. Got any ideas?

  I certainly do, he said, with the wag of an eyebrow.

  Kat exhaled in disbelief. Sex? How could you want to have sex with me?

  I'm haunted by my childhood. I'm a nut job. I have visions. Pretty soon the voices will be telling me to do things. I'm an emotional slop heap.

  I'm crazy. And this turns you on?

  Riley moved closer to Kat and put his arms around her, laughing. He planted a sweet kiss on her mouth. I wasn't even thinking about sex, but obviously, you were, and here's a little secret we doctors usually don't share with the civilian population: If a person says they may be going crazy, they're normal. The ones who believe that all is well are the ones you've got to watch.

  Hmph.

  But I do think I've got something for you, he said, kissing her again.

  You're gonna sweat a little, learn a few new tricks, and you'll be exhausted when you're done. How does that sound?

  It sounds like what we did at Cherry Hill.

  Well, it's not.

  Kat looked down at herself. I bet I need to change, don't I?

  Riley surveyed her outfita pair of gray dress slacks, high-heeled boots, and a sweater set in a nice soft pink. She looked sexy as hell, but it wasn't suitable for what he had in mind. Remember how you used to dress in eighth grade? he asked.

  Kat looked at him with suspicion. That wasn't my best year.

  Riley laughed. It's nobody's best year, Scout. Just put on some jeans and a sweatshirt, OK? Then you won't have to worry about your clothes.

  Kat's eyes lit up and she smiled, and it was like a jolt of lightning went through him. Of all the sights in the world, Kat smiling and happy was the most beautiful he could imagine. Be right back! she said.

  Riley watched her run up the stairs and was tempted to follow that beautiful little ass of hers to the bedroom but thought better of it. He could put the few moments alone to good use right down here on the first floor.