And once, Becky had forgotten to take the key to the front door when she left in the morning. Sara and Katherine were both working late, and Becky tried to crawl in through a window. A neighbor thought she was breaking into the apartment and called the police. The officers did not believe her story, and Katherine and Sara had to go to the station to secure her release. The next weekend, Sara baked a cake for her—this one rose—and they’d hidden a small file under the icing.
After dinner, they attended the Symphony Orchestra’s Christmas Concert. It was being presented as an encore performance, the original performances having been completely sold out.
“It worked out well, I think,” her mother told her. “You weren’t at home for the original performances. You always enjoy hearing the orchestra, and this way, you are able to go with us.”
At the conclusion of the performance, as they left the concert hall, a cold rain was beginning to turn to ice.
“Do we need to check into a hotel, Tom?” her mother asked. “Won’t the roads be slick?”
Her father ran his hand across the top of the car. It was wet, not frozen.
“It has just started to turn. We ought to be all right, home before it gets dangerous. Might be ice-bound tomorrow, though.”
Katherine sat in the back, not paying attention as her father maneuvered through Richmond. Huddled in the cold, in the dark, looking out at the lights—the Christmas lights, the car lights, the signs, and the traffic signals—Katherine considered what Bill had said.
What had he offered? What incentive had he provided? Love? No. While he claimed to have always loved her, he didn’t hold that out as a reason to marry him. She had to give him credit for not pretending at love.
He had offered her a mansion, a place in Hamilton society, the “queen,” he’d said. She would love to live close to her family, keep a horse in the backyard, swim and play tennis whenever she liked, she would enjoy the parties, late afternoon tea, but she didn’t want to be the queen, and she didn’t want to “run” the church.
He had offered her a job. He could likely pressure Dr. Nelson to take her as a partner, although she felt certain she could obtain the position on her own.
Have a whole mess of children.
Katherine loved children and had always dreamed of four, or even five, of them. Her eyes opened wide. She would have to sleep with him—willingly. She shuddered.
“Are you all right, sweetie?” Her mother turned to look.
“I’m fine. No problem.” Katherine managed a smile. “I’m fine.”
You can do anything you want.
His reference to Steven. She had asked to go then, because she couldn’t manage to say anything else. The assumption that she would…that Steven would…
She felt the shock again. Katherine shook her head. Maybe it was a dream? This was absurd, only one possible response.
I can’t just say that I asked and you turned me down. I’ll need a reason for not marrying you.
They had left Richmond now, and Katherine stared out into the darkness. The threat was obvious. Why, indeed, would a supposedly decent man like Bill Wilson decide not to marry her?
“Tom! It’s ice!” her mother shouted.
Katherine’s heart jumped as the car began to slide. Her father turned the wheel, pumped the brakes, but the road was narrow and they were going fast. The car went airborne as it left the road. Katherine’s head hit the roof as it landed flat. She heard a loud pop! Followed by three more, as the tires exploded on impact. The car pitched forward, turned over, stopped as it struck a tree.
***
Katharine awoke under a blinding light. She lay on a bed, a table. A woman bent over her.
“Dr. Jackson. Dr. Jackson. Do you know where you are?”
The place was frighteningly familiar.
“I’m in an ER,” she whispered.
“Dr. Jackson, do you remember what happened?”
Katherine struggled to clear her mind, to focus.
“We went to the concert. We left Richmond. I—”
God, her head was pounding.
“I was in the back seat, not paying attention.” She struggled to remember. “Mom screamed about ice. We ran off the road, hit hard.”
She bolted upright. “Mom and Dad! Are they all right? Let me up. I’ve got to check!”
The nurse gently pushed her back onto the bed. “Your father was unconscious when the EMTs arrived. He’s all right. He has a broken rib and a slight concussion. He’s down the hall.”
“Mom? What about my mother?”
The nurse made a note in her chart.
“She hasn’t regained consciousness yet. We think she hit her head, perhaps on the roof. She doesn’t seem to have any other problems.” The nurse patted her arm. “You don’t remember pushing the door open, crawling back to the road, flagging down the trooper? You probably saved everyone’s lives.”
***
Katherine awoke again at mid-morning. She was bruised and sore, but otherwise all right. She limped to her mother’s room and found that she had regained consciousness during the night but she would be held for observation. Her father was ready to be released, but he would be off his feet for a few days.
It could have been a lot worse, Katherine supposed.
It’s my fault. If I had been watching, I might have seen the ice, if I hadn’t been thinking about Bill, if he hadn’t…
When Aunt Emma came for Katherine and her father, Katherine refused a wheel chair, insisting on walking beside her father’s as they left the hospital.
The nurses had laughed. “Typical doctor,” one of them said. “They won’t take the advice they give to everyone else.”
As they settled themselves in the car, Katherine leaned over to her father. “I’m so sorry, I should have been watching.”
“It’s not your fault, Katherine. These things happen.”
“But if I’d been paying attention…”
“The ditch was full of debris, and with all of the rain, the water overflowed and was freezing on the road. You would have seen the ice at the same time your mother saw it. Don’t blame yourself.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s not your fault. You aren’t responsible for everything that happens to you.”
***
Late that afternoon, Katherine sat with Aunt Emma, drinking cocoa.
“I’m so glad that everyone is all right,” Aunt Emma said. “You are all right, aren’t you, Katherine? You don’t look well.”
“Aunt Emma, I…I want to tell you something.” Her voice was shaking.
“What is it, Katherine? What’s wrong?”
Katherine told her the events of the past two months.
“The bastard! Your father will feed him to the fish. I might help!”
“It was my fault, Aunt Emma, not his. I led him on over the years. Then I ignored him.”
“Not his fault?”
Her aunt’s voice could be heard throughout the house Katherine was sure.
“Not his fault? It’s all his fault! You put his butt in prison.”
“He was drunk. He didn’t really know what he was doing. He would have left me alone if I had objected or fought or…”
Aunt Emma’s face registered her disbelief.
“He swears that he would, drunk as he was.”
“Alcohol doesn’t excuse this, Katherine.”
Katherine buried her head in her hands. “It doesn’t matter, Aunt Emma. You know that no one else will marry me now. I’ve got to do this. It’s the only way to have the family that I want.” She looked up. “He will never tell a soul.”
“Are you absolutely crazy, child?” Her aunt slammed her mug onto the table.
“I would move home. You should see the house he’s going to build. I’ll be nearby, with my family. Mom and Dad—you—are getting older, the accident. Aunt Emma, I’m needed here.”
“I’m fifty-seven, your father, fifty-five. One foot in the grave for sure. Katherine, listen to yourself. This man doesn�
�t care for you. Rape is not love, Katherine. He won’t treat you well. In your heart, you know that.”
“He will tell everyone.” Katherine tapped her fist on the table for emphasis.
“Who in hell cares who he tells or what he says? You’ll ruin your life for his silence? What about next time?”
“Next time?”
“Next time he wants something. Next time he threatens you.”
“I can’t do that to Mom. To you.”
“Katherine,” her aunt took Katherine’s hands between her own, “we will survive Hamilton’s gossip. Don’t be stupid.”
“I don’t have a choice.” Katherine pulled away.
“Neither do I.” Emma looked her in the eye.
“What do you mean?”
“If you agree to marry that piece of garbage, I’ll have no choice but to tell your father everything. I’ll tell the newspaper, shout it from the front steps of the church. You will not throw your life away.”
New York Again
Steven had originally planned to simply stop in New York overnight when he returned from Atlanta. He had delayed his flight to London so that he could to meet with the Chair of the Board of Directors of the Kairos Museum in Boston.
The exhibit in September had attracted a great deal of notice, and new attention had been directed toward his books. With the Director of the Kairos retiring after twenty-five years, the chair of the search committee had called Steven to learn if he would be interested in interviewing for the position.
The Kairos described itself as “a museum of Greek culture,” and Steven’s expertise in Greek art combined with his experience in New York, made him a leading candidate for the open position.
He met with the board chair, Robert George, and his wife, Elizabeth. As they ate lunch at a restaurant near the Museum, they talked about the Kairos, its collection, and its programs. While her husband did most of the talking, Elizabeth George also had questions for Steven.
“You’re not married, Dr. Richardson?” Elizabeth George had asked. “A handsome young man like you?”
“No, not married. One of God’s unclaimed jewels, to date.” Steven had smiled at the compliment.
“We will have to work on that.” She had grinned as she took a sip of her tea.
“Now, Elizabeth…”
She had ignored her husband’s warning and had turned to Steven to continue. “Robert has a niece, Irina. She’s about your age. Professor of Art History at Boston College.”
“Elizabeth…”
She waved him away as if he were a fly buzzing about. “You two have a lot in common, Steven. Irina grew up in Atlanta, too.”
Steven raised his head. “You said Irina George?”
“Yes. Did you know her?”
“Irina and I were in high school together. Our work frequently appeared in the same shows. Hers usually won!” Steven laughed. “It was a day for rejoicing when she decided to work in water color rather than oil!”
“Irina still paints, Dr. Richardson. I’ll have you both to dinner one evening when you come to Boston. You can become reacquainted.”
It occurred to Steven, then, that her mention of Irina might not have been an accident, but he supposed he didn’t mind. “I would enjoy that very much. We were rather good friends in high school.”
As lunch ended, Steven indicated his interest in pursuing the Director’s position, and they agreed that he would fly to Boston to tour the Museum and to meet with the search committee when he returned from England.
As the Georges left, Steven thought about Irina. They actually had dated for a while in high school, went to the senior prom together. They chose to attend different colleges and lost touch. He would enjoy getting to know her again.
***
Katherine was sitting beside her mother’s bed. Her flight to New York was departing at noon and she was packed and ready to go, waiting for her father to drive her to the airport.
“I shouldn’t be leaving you, Mom.”
“Don’t be silly! You have to go back to New York. You have your job.”
“I know, but maybe this summer, maybe I can come home. I talked with Dr. Nelson yesterday…”
“Don’t move here to take care of us. You know I’d love to have you at home, Katherine, but only if it’s what you want.”
Her mother smiled, then her face grew serious. “Katherine, I don’t know what happened between you and Steven, but, honey, give him another chance.”
Katherine looked away, not wanting her mother to read her expression. If he had done something, of course she would give him another chance. If only it were that simple.
“Don’t play games, Katherine, not with your mother. You love Steven Richardson. I see it in your face whenever you hear his name. Do you ever take off the necklace he gave you? And the bracelet, the ring, the earrings—they match the necklace. He gave them to you, didn’t he? You wear them every day.”
Katherine bit her lip. Her mother knew her too well—of course she loved Steven.
“Well, you’d better get going. I don’t want your father racing to get you to the airport on time.” She hugged Katherine. “Remember, we’ll see you in—what is it?—six weeks. Your Christmas present, the one you gave us, Valentine’s weekend in New York.”
***
Katherine huddled in the window seat on the last row as the airplane departed Richmond. She spread her parka over her body for warmth. Did they not heat airplanes?
She gazed out the window as Richmond fell behind them. As the airplane passed over Hamilton she could see the houses below, and she thought about her conversation with her aunt. She had never argued with Aunt Emma before, and she had barely been able to prevent her aunt from telephoning her father. In the end, Katherine had agreed to do nothing foolish and to consider bringing charges against Bill and the others. Aunt Emma had agreed to keep her secret, at least for the time being. Katherine couldn’t imagine bringing charges, but she had not yet decided what to do about Bill’s proposal.
Her flight arrived early and Sara was not at the gate to meet her. Katherine wandered over to a coffee shop where she could have something to drink while watching for Sara. She stared out at the busy terminal. Most of the people seemed to be late. They were scurrying toward the gates, or down the hall leading to the next terminal. A few seemed, like Katherine, to be waiting on someone, and still others obviously had arrived for their flights early and were strolling toward the gates.
A few of the people pulled their suitcases behind them, rolling awkwardly on castors that turned in multiple directions and locked up when they were turned too quickly. Her mother had bought one several months ago, when Macy’s first began selling them, but the castors were made of plastic, and they were broken after a couple of uses.
Katherine looked at her carry-on. Why would someone choose to fool with something like that when all you have to do is pick up the suitcase?
“Hello, Katherine.”
She jumped at the sound of Steven’s voice.
“May I sit here?”
Katherine had difficulty speaking. Her hand went involuntarily to her throat, caressing her necklace. She had not talked with Steven in over a month. Her mother had told her to give him another chance—was fate giving her one?
She cleared her throat and gestured to the seat across from her. “Of course, sit down.”
Steven sat down and placed his cup of coffee on the table.
“Coming or going?” she asked.
“Both, sort of. I spent Christmas in Atlanta. Got back day before yesterday, and I’m on my way to London now. Well, I’m flying to London, but I’ll only be there a couple of days before heading to Oxford.”
“That’s right. You’re giving a lecture series. You once asked me to go with you.” Katherine bit her lip, wishing she could take those last words back. As if he’d still ask.
“Offer is still open.” Steven smiled. “The flight isn’t full.”
Katherine swallowed hard and loo
ked down. She would love to be impetuous—grab her carry-on and go with him, fly away and forget about Bill Wilson. It wasn’t a real offer, though. It was simply something safe to say. Steven wouldn’t know how to react if she took him up on it. She chose to ignore it.
“I like your bracelet.”
“A gift from an old friend.” She spun it on her wrist and then held her arm up so that he could see it better. “It’s beautiful, Steven. The ring, the earrings. You shouldn’t have.”
“I bought them for you. It seemed wrong to give—to do anything else with them. You’re wearing the necklace, too.”
“Every day.” She took a deep breath. “Steven, I need to apologize to you. I was mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you.” She gazed at her coffee, running her finger along the rim. “Can you forgive me?”
Steven hesitated.
Katherine thought that he looked undecided, not sure what to say.
“I have no difficulty forgiving people who hurt me. I only find it difficult to forgive those who don’t trust me.” He stood. “I need to be going.” He kissed her forehead. “Good-bye, Katherine.”
She watched as he set off toward his gate. She shook her head, silently chastising herself. Her apology had been so perfunctory. She wanted to cry, feeling as if he were leaving forever and that she had missed her last chance to tell him that she loved him, to explain her behavior.
“Katherine!” Sara placed a hand on her shoulder.
Katherine barely registered the sensation, still standing, watching Steven as he merged into the crowd.
“What are you looking at?”
She turned around and noticed Sara’s eyes follow to where her gaze had been. Katherine turned back, too, and she caught sight of Steven just before he disappeared in the mob of people.
“That was Steven. Were the two of you talking?”
“Just ran into each other. He’s off to London.” Katherine sighed, then she turned to Sara. “How was Christmas?”
The Handfasting Page 20