by Susan Wiggs
She nodded vigorously. He had to admit, the improvement in her health had improved everything about her. This was what he loved about medicine. Sometimes it truly did have the power to heal, to turn a life around, to transform tragedy into a second chance.
“I’m glad you’re back,” he said.
“Thanks. And, uh, I never said thank-you for what you did for me that night. The night of my birthday. Without you, I would have been a goner.”
JD worked all day, scarcely pausing except to pay Callie and tell her goodbye. The sweat and dust all but coated him and the bandage on his hand unraveled in tatters. Then, hot and aching, he peeled off his shirt and dived into the frigid lake. The soft, clear water flowed over him in gentle, cleansing waves even as its brutal chill took his breath away. By swimming out a few hundred feet, he could see Kate’s place with its emerald green yard, the house as commanding as a ship under sail. He wondered what she was doing right now. Was she working on her story? Was she messing around with Aaron, chatting with Callie? Maybe she’d gone to town. Maybe she had already met someone else, someone who wasn’t paranoid about reporters and didn’t sit in judgment of her.
Someone who wasn’t keeping a colossal secret from her.
If he hadn’t finished off their relationship with their last conversation, the fact that he’d been lying to her all summer would certainly do the trick.
In his imagination, he’d rehearsed the conversation dozens of times:
“Kate, I’m not who you think I am. Wait, I am who you think I am, but there’s something you should know about me…” Then, as simply as possible, he would explain about the incident at Walter Reed. And Kate, who had once told him he seemed too good to be true, would discover that she’d been right.
Perhaps she’d be understanding. She might even be intrigued by the idea, the novelty of knowing someone who had inadvertently been catapulted into notoriety. But ultimately, he knew, she would discover the destructive side of fame just as Janet had. It was like a monster with a life of its own, out of control. Here at the lake in summer, his identity didn’t matter. This wasn’t the real world.
The real world was stalking paparazzi, articles crammed with lies, TV-news reporters dogging his footsteps, constantly ringing phones, agents and publicists making wild claims, people who were down on their luck begging for favors. The human psyche just wasn’t made to withstand the constant pressure. God knew, JD was proof of that. In time, Kate would grow to hate the attention, particularly when it focused on Aaron. Eventually, she would come to resent JD for bringing on all the unwanted intrusions. Worse, his notoriety could endanger her and Aaron in ways he couldn’t even predict. If anything happened to them because of him, he’d never forgive himself.
Sam and Penny assured him that the furor would die down, his mother would get better and one day he’d have his life back. Maybe then….
With strong, smooth strokes, he swam back to shore and let the water stream off his shoulders, down his back and legs. The lake had cleansed him even as it chilled him to the bone. Shaking off water, he went in search of a towel.
Time to deal with other things, he told himself.
He dried himself off and changed clothes, put a fresh dressing on his cut. Then he went to his desk, circling around the neat stacks of paperwork before forcing himself to take a seat. This was not rocket science, he told himself, but he kept hesitating to get the process rolling. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the admissions committee going over his application file. With his training and experience as a Green Beret medic, he’d be regarded as a promising candidate. Still, he had no idea how a venerable institution of higher learning might react to his being a celebrity, however reluctant. He’d heard plenty about starlets who interrupted their movie careers to attend Princeton or Stanford, but the difference was, a starlet didn’t share his aversion to the limelight.
Another reason for his hesitation was that he wanted to be accepted on his merits as an applicant, not as a guy whose face was once on the cover of Time magazine.
Pretending the incident hadn’t happened was stupid, Sam always said. The Christmas Eve rescue was part of JD now; he couldn’t separate himself from it. Besides, Sam pointed out, in order to get into med school, you used any means at your disposal, even if that meant letting on you were the lead story on the evening news. JD knew damn well he was qualified. He just needed a break.
He massaged his temples, picturing life as a student. Monklike, he would study late into the night and rise early each morning. Becoming a doctor was going to consume him. He’d seen this in other Special Forces medics, many of whom went on to med school. Once they decided to go for it, their studies took as much time and concentration as training for the Green Berets. JD reminded himself that there would be no room in his life for anything but study and practice.
Enough, he thought, flicking the point of a pen in and out, in and out. He had plenty of reasons to stay the hell away from Kate, and only one to keep her close.
And even though he told himself not to, he wondered what she was doing right now.
Twenty-Seven
Kate looked more nervous than Callie actually felt about this photo shoot for Vanity Fair. “Don’t freak out on me,” Callie told her. “Then I’ll start freaking, too.”
“Okay. I’ll work on it.” Kate flexed her hands on the steering wheel as she pulled into the strip-center parking lot and headed for the Curl & Twirl, where Callie was supposed to go to get her hair and makeup done.
It was intimidating as hell, Callie thought, and Kate wasn’t helping the situation.
“I’m not freaking out,” Aaron said from the backseat. He kept fogging the window with his breath and drawing faces with his finger. Jeez, give the kid a Game Boy, Callie wanted to tell Kate. “What’s the big deal?” he asked.
“I don’t like getting my picture taken.”
“Why not?”
“Because I hate the way I look, okay?”
“It’s not okay,” Kate said, navigating around potholes and speed bumps. “And you don’t mean that.”
“Fine.” Callie didn’t want to get into some big discussion with Aaron as audience. Besides, Kate was maybe a little bit right. Since starting the whole diabetes-prevention thing, she’d lost weight and her skin was better—no dark patches and zits. She had learned with some relief that the acanthosis nigricans and acne were not some sort of cosmic punishment but symptoms of diabetes. Once she got that under control, the skin troubles subsided, thank God. “I don’t mean it. I love the way I look, and the pictures are going to be gorgeous.”
“Now you’re being facetious.”
“What’s facetious?” Aaron asked.
They both ignored him. “I can’t help the way I feel,” Callie said. “I like the way you look,” Aaron piped up.
They kept ignoring him. “Of course you can,” Kate replied.
“I said,” Aaron bellowed, too loudly to ignore, “I like the way you look. I like your whole stupid face, so there.”
“You crack me up,” Callie said.
“You crack me down.”
“You’re a nut,” she added.
“You’re the one who’s going to get your hair ironed and face painted on,” he replied. “Who’s the nut now?”
Kate found a parking spot near the salon. “All set?” she asked brightly.
“Um, listen,” Callie said, “would you mind maybe dropping me off? I mean, that way Aaron wouldn’t get bored waiting around—”
“I don’t mind watching,” he said.
Callie met Kate’s eyes and they shared a silent accord. “I’ll be back in an hour,” Kate said.
“Thanks.”
Callie stood on the curb and watched them drive away. They headed down the hill toward the ferry landing, where there was a tall lookout tower Aaron could climb and see clear to Vancouver Island in Canada. She checked her watch, fifteen minutes to kill until the appointment. One thing being homeless had taught her was how to kill ti
me. She was some kind of expert at it. She walked a little ways down the street, catching a glimpse of herself in a shop window, a girl walking by herself, hands in her pockets. Even with Kate and Aaron, she sometimes felt so alone. They were great, but it had been so long since she’d had a friend her age that it felt like a physical ache. Often, she fantasized about being surrounded by a group of friends, laughing together like…
She studied the group of kids at the far end of the block, standing around outside the recruiting office. Luke. She was sure it was him. Her heart sped up in her chest. She hadn’t seen him in a while. A couple of weeks ago, he’d said he couldn’t hang out with her as much as he used to. He was busy, because the parks department had increased his hours.
He wasn’t busy now. In a group with two other guys and three girls, he looked happy and animated, his lanky posture relaxed. Callie had asked him if it was weird that she wasn’t quite as old as she’d said she was, and he’d said no. She’d asked him if it was weird that she had this medical condition, and he’d said no.
But something was definitely weird.
She hung back and contemplated the situation. He hadn’t spotted her yet. She could just slip back around the corner and forget about the whole thing. She knew she wouldn’t forget, though. She’d stew about it. All summer long, he’d told her he didn’t have any friends up here in the Peninsula, and she’d believed him. He was pretty damn friendly with the kids he was with now.
Finally, he’d made some friends. This could work out really well, Callie told herself. It would be fun to spend the last few weeks of the summer hanging out with a group of kids. The girls wore miniskirts and crop tops that showed their midriffs. They probably had belly-button rings, something Callie had promised herself she’d get once she reached her target weight. One of the girls, who had perfectly straight, blue-black hair, was flirting with Luke, leaning in to him when he spoke, laughing and putting her hand on his arm.
All right, thought Callie. Enough’s enough. She squared her shoulders and headed toward him. It was funny how he was standing near the recruiting office with the JD poster, now faded from the sun. Sometimes Callie burned to tell Luke. It was the coolest secret ever. Maybe he’d hang around with her more if she told him who JD really was.
As she neared the group, she put a smile in place. The other kids didn’t recognize her, of course, but she could tell Luke did. He acted as if he were seeing a ghost.
This is bad, thought Callie, instantly regretting her decision. This is really, really bad. “Hey, Luke,” she said, hoping her friendliness didn’t seem forced.
He leaned back against the building. “Hey.”
She waited for him to introduce her to the others. She felt them taking her apart with their stares. “So what’re you up to?” she asked.
“Staying busy,” he said in a bored voice. His gaze was flat, his eyes narrow.
“I can see that.” Callie wanted to die. She prayed for the earth to open up right then and there and swallow her whole. She knew it was chickenshit to back down when she ought to get in his face right now. Still, she chose the chickenshit route. He wasn’t even worth it, she told herself. He wasn’t worth sticking around and fighting for. “Well, I need to be somewhere,” she said. “See you.”
“Yeah.”
She pivoted and headed back the way she had come. Although she tried not to hear, her ears were perfectly tuned in and she overheard Luke giving a short, nervous laugh.
“…nobody,” he said. “Just some kid who cleans houses for my grandmother.”
Callie kept walking and didn’t stop until she reached the lookout tower at the landing. She spotted Kate’s Jeep parked at the base of the tower, and high above, Kate and Aaron tossing oyster crackers to seagulls, who caught them in midair. Just the sight of them seemed to ease her despair, if only a little. They were so cute together, the two of them, a matched set of redheads. Watching them, she felt a funny lightness in her chest. A sense of…ownership.
She waved at them and they hurried down, their footsteps bonging on the open steel stairs. “That was quick,” Kate said a little breathlessly. Her face changed when she got closer. “What happened?” she asked.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going,” Callie said.
“But the photographer—”
“I’ll still get my picture taken. He’ll just have to take me like this.”
As it turned out, he did just that. They met at Kate’s house—Mr. Saloutos and two assistants—and he worked fast, with great confidence. At first, Callie was nervous and self-conscious, but being outside, with the lake spreading out behind her, she started to feel as vast and expansive as the scenery itself. To hell with Luke, she thought, looking right into the camera. This was her time to shine.
Twenty-Eight
Kate sat on the porch steps with her notebook, formulating questions to ask Callie’s mother in the interview. Aaron was playing with the dog in the yard, and Callie had taken the county bus to town for her morning class and support group. Meanwhile, Kate was supposed to be getting some work done, but now she was starting to wonder if she was cut out to be a hard-nosed freelance journalist after all. Even thinking up the questions gave her a stomachache. She couldn’t imagine asking them, nor could she realistically expect honest answers.
Ms. Evans, what possessed you to live at a commune run by a pedophile?
Were you prepared for him to come after your daughter when she hit puberty?
Later, when you abandoned her in Tacoma, did you suppose there was any way that could be construed as responsible parenting?
In journalism school, she had learned sound principles for extracting information, even from the most reluctant of subjects. However, she couldn’t recall what to do if the interviewer herself was reluctant. On the other hand, there was the age-old multifarious method. Just let the subject talk, take it all down and write the truth.
How does it help Callie to have her life smeared all over the press? JD’s disapproving voice intruded on her thoughts, undermining her conviction. Shut up, she wanted to tell him. Go away. His opinion didn’t have to matter to her, not anymore. She was her own person, she always had been, and for a few crazy weeks, she’d let herself forget that. Now sanity had returned, and she was determined to get over him, the sooner the better.
“Mom,” Aaron called from the yard. “Hey, Mom, watch.”
Grateful for the distraction, she set aside the notebook, laced her fingers around her knees and leaned back to watch. “Go ahead, buddy,” she called to him.
He coaxed Bandit through a trick they’d been working on all summer long. Every once in a while, the dog succeeded, seemingly by accident. Yet today he got it.
“Let us pray,” Aaron said, holding his palms up and looking at the sky.
Immediately, the dog sat with paws forward and head bowed, staying that way until Aaron yelled, “Amen!” Then Bandit jumped up and scampered away.
Kate was amazed. Although undeniably lovable, Bandit was not the brightest example of canine intellect. His ability to perform had, thus far, been limited to a few one-word commands.
Or so she thought. Thanks to Aaron’s persistence, the beagle had finally caught on to a new trick. And Kate learned something, too. Don’t write somebody off just because you think they lack ability.
“You’re incredible, both of you,” she said. “I’m proud of you, Aaron.”
He stood up a little straighter, grinned a little broader. “Proud enough to end my groundation?”
“You wish. One thing has nothing to do with the other.”
“Mom—”
“One more peep out of you, and I’ll add an extra day of no bike or swimming.”
His shoulders hunched forward.
Kate felt terrible, but she knew she had to stick to her guns. Taking away bike and swimming privileges was especially cruel now that summer was running out. Every day counted.
“You did the crime,” she said, “you have to do the time
.”
He looked so miserable. And Lord knew, he deserved a reward for his persistence in teaching Bandit.
“Tell you what,” she said, “let’s take the kayak out.”
“Yeah!” He was already running for the life vests and paddles. In just a few minutes, the two of them were paddling toward the middle of the lake, the sun sparkling in the droplets of water that rained from the oars.
Strictly speaking, she probably should have forbidden him to go out on the lake at all. Then again, she rationalized, grounding him from riding his bike and going swimming made her point. Besides, kayaking was a relatively safe way to enjoy the water, and therefore should be encouraged.
Behind him in the low, sleek craft, she noticed how strong his arms had grown over the summer, how the sunlight streaked his hair. Despite liberal use of sunscreen, freckles dotted his skin. Over the summer, he’d gotten taller, more sure of himself, less angry. My boy is growing up, she thought.
They paddled in silence for a while, the kayak’s shadow haunting the intensely blue depths beneath them. She felt a wave of nostalgia. No matter how many times she traveled these waters, the lake always felt new to her, its splendor undiminished by familiarity.
Keeping the rhythm of the oars steady, Aaron said, “I miss JD.”
Me, too, thought Kate.
“Why doesn’t he come over anymore? Is it because I rode my bike off the dock?”
She sighed. Aaron always blamed himself when men dumped her. “Absolutely not,” she said. “Don’t be silly.”
“I thought you guys were, like, boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Kate gritted her teeth. She was an idiot. She knew better than to look twice at a guy. The moment she did, Aaron got his hopes up. Falling for someone put more than her own heart at risk; it risked Aaron’s, too. She knew that. How could she have been so careless with her own son? It didn’t matter that, right from the start, she’d taken pains to explain to Aaron that JD wasn’t a permanent fixture in their lives. Aaron’s father fantasies always took flight no matter what she said.