“Okay.” Steven was moving on. He was not sure he wanted to hear about Katherine.
“Steven, do you remember the day you brought us barbeque for dinner? It was a Saturday. Katherine was acting strangely.”
“Yes, it was right after the night she bumped into me on the street and ran off, terrified. Things were never the same after that night.”
“Three men raped Katherine that night, the night she ran from you.”
Steven gasped. “Damn!” His head began to spin. He dropped into the chair beside the desk and stared at the painting above the mantle, trying to regain control. “Sorry.”
“One of them was that guy from Hamilton, Bill Wilson.”
“The fat drunk who accosted me in Richmond? He should rot in jail!”
“No! He hasn’t been arrested.” Becky gave him a full account of what had happened. “Katherine would not give their names to the police. She doesn’t want anyone to know what happened. In the little town where her parents live, she won’t be the victim the way he’ll tell the story. She can’t deal with that. She wouldn’t give the officer any names, made me swear not to tell her parents, not to tell you.”
He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known what was bothering Katherine that night, but he hadn’t even considered this.
“Steven, she feels like it was her fault. That creep convinced her it was her fault!”
“Her fault?” Steven kicked at the trashcan, scattering papers across the floor.
“She doesn’t think she’s good enough for you anymore—doesn’t think you’d want her. That’s why she broke up with you. We’ve argued with her, tried to convince her she’s wrong. She won’t listen.” Becky stopped speaking abruptly, then she lowered her voice. “Sorry, I thought I heard Katherine.” She paused again. “Steven, it gets worse.”
“How could it get worse?”
“That, that man wants her to marry him.”
“What?” He took a deep breath. “Bastard. He’s insane if he thinks—”
“Steven, she’s going to do it.”
Steven did not respond right away. “Bill Wilson,” he murmured. “Yes. He said he was going to marry her. I guess he found a way.”
“Steven, can you help her?”
“I ought to cut his throat,” he said quietly.
“Steven? She loves you, Steven.”
“If she loved me, she would tell me what happened. She doesn’t trust me enough to do that.”
“But—”
“She did come by my apartment last night, though. First time I’ve seen her since last fall, except for running into her at the airport. Wanted to talk about a patient, a little boy who died.”
“That’s good, Steven! She was really upset about that, and she came to you.”
“Said nothing about any of this. If she won’t talk to me about it, I don’t see what I can possibly do.”
“Steven, call her. Please. Give her one more chance.”
He heard muffled sounds on the other end. “Becky?”
“Who is that? Are you talking to Steven?” It was Katherine’s voice in the background.
“No, of course not.”
“Are you talking about me?”
“No, Katherine. No. Did I awaken you?”
“Just don’t talk about me. Everyone wants to tell me what to do. I’m marrying Bill Wilson and that’s the end of it.” There was a pause. “He will give me the kind of life I want.”
The line was silent for several seconds. When Becky returned, she was whispering. “Please, Steven. Please talk to her.”
“She seems to have made up her mind. She certainly doesn’t want to discuss her marriage plans with me. I’m going out of town tomorrow anyway.”
“Steven, please. You loved her, Steven. I know you did. Help her.”
Steven hesitated. Yes, he’d loved her—he still did.
“I’ll be back on Thursday. If she wants to talk to me, I’ll do what I can.”
***
The flight to Boston was crowded but, mercifully, short. Steven had chosen to fly the day before his interview at the Kairos Museum so that he would not be exhausted from the hassle of flying in, transferring to the city, checking his luggage at the hotel, and reaching the Museum for a luncheon meeting with the search committee.
As he ate dinner, Steven thought about why he wanted to leave the Metropolitan Museum. Martine had said that he wanted to leave because of Katherine, growling about the she-devil and the evil that had followed in her wake.
He knew that Martine was correct. He was looking elsewhere because of Katherine.
Steven loved New York, enjoyed his work at the Museum, and liked the people with whom he worked. And Susanne seemed to be very nice, he enjoyed seeing her, but he had not been happy since Katherine had broken their handfast—their engagement. He needed to get away.
He and Professor Spence had discussed the opening at Oxford and the professor felt certain that a visiting professorship could be arranged. He was at work on the appointment now. Steven knew that he would enjoy Oxford—he loved teaching, and Anna would be there. He would have fallen in love with her five years earlier, but his commitment to Katherine, his memories of Katherine, had interfered.
Steven pulled his overcoat around him, tightly, as he walked back to his hotel.
After talking to Becky, he’d had the urge to dash to their apartment, hold Katherine in his arms, tell her that he loved her and always would. He would go with her to the police, to tell her parents. He got as far as pulling out the ring he had offered her at dinner back in August. He would propose marriage, and she would have an alternative to Bill Wilson.
On the other hand, she had not told him what had happened, and he had heard her talking to Becky. She had made up her mind, she had said, and she wanted people to stop telling her what to do. As he had said to Becky, Katherine would not want his take on her plan to marry another man. She wouldn’t want to see him, wouldn’t want to hear what he would say. After all, she had told him to leave her and to not return.
He had put the ring back into the desk. It was one more thing that tied him to Katherine. He would take it to the antique store this weekend. He shook his head. He would enjoy returning to Oxford. He thought he would enjoy directing the Kairos. He would see Irina George tomorrow night. Her aunt had invited them both to dinner and she had told him that Irina was excited at the prospect of seeing him again.
Steven smiled. Oxford? Boston? He would be leaving New York before long, leaving Katherine behind.
Willy
“Dr. Jackson! Patient in Exam One!”
It was six o’clock on Tuesday morning, as Katherine entered the ER.
“What do we have?” She slipped quietly into the room. About eighteen years old, she decided, looking at the young woman asleep on the bed, a rash covering her upper arms. One of her legs was uncovered and Katherine saw the rash there too.
“Her parents brought her in a couple of hours ago. She had a sore throat a couple of weeks back, probably strep. Her fever returned last night. They brought her in short of breath, complaining of chest pain. No history of heart trouble. They said that she was acting strangely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Crying one minute, laughing the next. That sort of thing.”
“Let’s do a blood workup. See if we can get an EKG.” Katherine looked at the chart.
“Mary Margaret Kelly?”
Amelia, the nurse, nodded. “Her parents, William and Mary Kelly, are in the waiting room.”
“Her BP is fluctuating.” Katherine wrapped the monitor around the girl’s arm. “It’s down now. Way down.”
She looked so fragile, Katherine thought. “I’ll talk to the parents. Can you bring them back?”
Katherine inspected the rash. It covered the girl’s upper arms and ran down both legs. Her temperature was down, but she was on meds now, so that was likely why.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, this is Dr. Jackson.” Amelia held the
door for the girl’s parents. Katherine turned toward them and stumbled back, almost falling against the bed. The bartender from the Royal Hotel, Willy they had called him, stood before her. The woman, his wife, Katherine had seen her at the parade. She turned back to Mary Margaret—the baton twirler.
Willy Kelly’s eyes were large and frightened. When they met Katherine’s, he reddened and looked away. His wife saw the look of anger on Katherine’s face and she turned to her husband, seeing his downcast eyes, his red face.
Katherine tensed. She clenched her fists and stepped toward Willy Kelly, all thoughts of his daughter gone.
“Tell me, Mr. Kelly, what would you do if you were me? Would you do the right thing and help her or would you turn your back and let a young woman suffer?” The words seemed to come from someone else. Katherine even looked behind her to see who was speaking.
Amelia put her hand on Katherine’s arm. “Dr. Jackson?”
“What…?” Mary Kelly looked from Katherine to her husband, confusion on her face.
Katherine ignored them both.
“Your daughter is suffering, Mr. Kelly. How do you think I felt? Do you think I suffered too?” She glared at Willy. “Did you even care?”
Mary Kelly continued to look from one to the other. “Dr. Jackson, I don’t understand.”
“I was raped by three men, Mrs. Kelly, three men at your husband’s bar.” She pointed at Willy. “He knew what was going on. He knew what they were doing to me.” She turned back to him. “And you did nothing to help me. You didn’t warn me. You didn’t stop it. You just—” Katherine’s voice was shaking, “you just let it happen.”
Mary Kelly’s mouth dropped open.
Mary Margaret moaned.
Katherine looked quickly, and then turned to the nurse.
“I can’t treat this patient, Amelia. Call Dr. Turner. Tell him to hurry.”
She dashed out of the exam room and pushed through the door to the staff lounge. Leaning against the wall, she took deep breaths, trying to calm down.
He had no right, none at all, to expect her help. He could have done something, followed them upstairs and stood between them, pulled her out of the room, warned her, called the police—something! He’d seen her leave the hotel, in the cold, barely dressed, almost naked. He could have given her a coat, called a ride—at least asked if she were all right. She sobbed. “He could have at least said he was sorry!”
In any case, she couldn’t treat his daughter. The personal association, her father’s complicity…her objectivity was compromised.
The ER was strangely quiet as Katherine passed Exam One on her way to the nurses’ station. The Kellys were still in the room. She could hear their voices, but she couldn’t understand their words. Willy’s head was down, his wife’s face was angry.
Katherine stopped to apologize to Amelia. She had been working in November when Sara and Becky had dragged Katherine to the ER. Amelia gave her a hug.
“It’s all right, Dr. Jackson. I understand. It’s all right.”
Mary Kelly hurried out of the exam room. She paused, looked back at her husband. “Pig!” She ran from the ER. A couple of minutes later, Willy shuffled out.
“Please, Dr. Jackson, my daughter, she’s a good person.”
“I was too, Mr. Kelly. Don’t you think my father would have wanted someone to help me? Dr. Turner will be here soon.” She watched as he returned to the waiting room and took out a handkerchief, dabbing at his eyes.
Patients began to crowd into the ER, and Katherine was caught up in the activity that was typical of a Tuesday morning. A woman arrived in labor. An eight-year-old had been struck by a car on the way to school and his leg was broken. The waiting room was suddenly full.
An hour later, Amelia stopped Katherine in the hallway. “Mary Margaret Kelly is having difficulty breathing. Dr. Turner has been delayed and you are the only physician here.”
“Monitor her condition. Let me know of any change. Are her parents with her?”
“Both parents are in the room. Her mother is almost hysterical. You should see how she looks at her husband. That man is lucky that looks can’t kill!”
“Where is Bill Turner?”
“Dr. Turner was coming in from out of town this morning. There’s a major pile up on ninety-five. I suppose that’s where he is. Dr. Jackson, Katherine,” Amelia looked her in the eye, “I know you won’t let that child die.”
Katherine hesitated. “Of course not. Let me know if there is any change. Any change at all.”
A woman with pneumonia was examined and transferred upstairs. An ambulance arrived carrying a man with burns over his entire lower body. Things were not looking like they would slow down any time soon.
Walking down the hall, Katherine heard the alarm from the heart monitor in Exam One.
“Dr. Jackson! Exam One! STAT!”
Katherine rushed into the room as the Kellys were ushered out. Mary Kelly caught her eye, pleading for help.
Amelia shouted, “She’s having a seizure!”
***
An hour later, Katherine strode across the crowded waiting room and stopped in front of Mary Kelly. She did not acknowledge Willy.
“Your daughter is awake, and she’s asking for you. We believe she has rheumatic fever. It occasionally strikes after a patient has strep. The jerking movements are a common symptom. I think she will be all right now.”
“Dr. Jackson, thank you so—”
“Dr. Turner has arrived. He will be taking care of her now.” Katherine turned on her heel and walked away, not wanting to hear the expression of gratitude, nor anything else that the Kellys might say. She had simply done her job. She hoped that Bill Turner would either release the girl or send her upstairs so that Katherine would not see her father again.
***
Mary Margaret Kelly had been transferred to a room, and the Kellys were not in the ER when Katherine completed her shift. She found Mary Kelly waiting by the staff entrance as she was about to leave for home.
“Dr. Jackson, may I speak with you?” She was pleading, but Katherine did not want to hear her.
“I really can’t, Mrs. Kelly. I’m sorry.”
“Just for a minute. Please?”
She really had no reason to be rude to the woman—she wasn’t responsible because she’d had the poor sense to marry a swine like Willy Kelly.
Katherine stopped and turned toward her.
“They told us that Mary Margaret might have died.”
“We managed to stabilize her. I hope that she will recover,” Katherine said, not wanting to accept special credit.
“Thank you.” She seemed about to cry.
“You are welcome.” Katherine started to walk away.
“Dr. Jackson! He’s not a bad man.”
Katherine wheeled around. “He’s not a good one!”
“He told me what happened, Dr. Jackson.” She reached out and squeezed Katherine’s arm. “I’m so sorry.” She gulped. “He’s so ashamed of himself. He told me that he didn’t know what to do, where they took you, where to send help, how to stop it.”
Katherine was silent.
“Anyway, thank you for Mary Margaret. I can tell you this—Willy will never stand by again and see someone hurt. He knows what he did was wrong, but, Dr. Jackson, he will try to make it right, do the right thing…”
Katherine was already walking away. A little late, she thought. A little late.
As she left the subway and walked toward her apartment, Katherine could not shake the Kellys from her thoughts. Mary Margaret would recover. Mrs. Kelly seemed like a decent person. Will Kelly, though... Katherine shuddered. How could he have let it happen? How could he have allowed them to treat her as they had and to have then gone home to his wife and daughters as if it had been an ordinary, uneventful day at work?
His wife said he was not a bad man. If that were true, Katherine hoped never to meet a bad one. As she trudged down the street, though, she realized that she already had�
�Bill Wilson, the man she was going to marry.
***
Katherine slept little that night, one nightmare following another. Strangely, in each dream, she focused on Bill’s face.
Over and over, she relived that evening at the Royal Hotel. Bill stood at the foot of the bed. She heard the other two men laughing, heard their nasty remarks, smelled the beer, felt their rough hands pushing and pulling her down, yanking the clothes off her body. But it was Bill’s face that she saw—the look of…what? Disgust? Hatred? Derision? Yes, it was derision. He wore that little half-smile that she noticed when he stood with a group of men at a party, telling dirty jokes.
She closed her eyes and fell back into fitful slumber.
When all three men had finished with her, she dared to look. She saw his smile. Then, he snickered as he leaned over her. “My Aunt Betty says that a lady always fights,” he whispered. “You know what that makes you.”
Then the hotel room faded, and it was her wedding day, her fairytale dress, the candlelit church, the excitement on her mother’s face, the priest waiting at the altar. As she began her march down the aisle, her eyes focused on Bill, standing beside the priest, that same smile on his face.
Katherine stopped halfway and started to turn around.
Bill began to shout. “No one else will marry you! It was your fault, Katherine. Your fault!”
Suddenly, the congregation turned toward her, all of them smiling in exactly the same way.
“Of course it’s a joke,” the priest said. “We all know what you did.”
Katherine threw the bouquet in Bill’s face and ran from the church, Bill close behind.
“Come back, Katherine! No one else will marry you!”
“Steven will marry me! He loves me!”
Bill began to laugh. He grabbed her by her shoulders and began to shake her.
“Come to your senses, Katherine. I firmly believe that you will come to your senses on your own.”
She awoke, screaming. Someone was shaking her.
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