The girl most likely to… Read online

  Actually, I'm on my way out.

  Carrie hit the off button on the speakerphone and grabbed her jacket and briefcase. She wouldn't even have time to change her clothes before she had to hit the road. If she made it out of Charleston before the evening rush, she could get to Persuasion in a little over two hours.

  She truly looked forward to the day that they could end all this commuter relationship nonsense. Riley's talents were being wasted in that town, and that stupid clinic would have done nothing but seal his low-class fate. With that in mind, Carrie had already found a dozen potential jobs for him here in the capital city and she was confident he'd eventually come to his senses. With a little luck, she could wrap up her rural diabetes management study right about the time Riley relocated hereand they could put that silly little town and all its history behind them, for good.

  Carrie gathered her briefcase and purse, a twinge of guilt tickling at her as it occasionally did. Some people might think it was unethical the way she'd used legislative sleight of hand to get Riley's clinic funding killed. But anyone making that judgment wouldn't understand that she had Riley's best interests at heart. She loved him. She knew what was good for him. She was good for him.

  The nurse at the triage desk pointed to a row of mint green fabric curtains, informing Kat and Nola that Virgil Cavanaugh could be found in evaluation room B-4. It took exactly eighteen steps to get there. Kat counted. She laughed at herself for being such a baby about this. Her parents were just like everyone else. Just people. Not monsters. They'd made some serious mistakes a long time ago, but maybe they'd just done the best they could. Kat was no longer a childshe was a grown woman. She could handle this.

  Kat gripped the edge of the curtain and pulled it aside. The first thing she noticed was a pale old man on a gurney, his eyes closed and his body still. The humming and beeping of monitors were the only indication he was alive. The next thing she noticed was that her mother was nowhere to be seen.

  Kat sat down in one of the small plastic chairs over by the sink. Nola sat next to her.

  That's Virgil, right? Nola whispered, reaching for Kat's hand.

  That's him.

  Kat couldn't take her eyes off the man who lay under the pale yellow blanket. His body looked… /reduced/ somehow. Virgil Cavanaugh had never been a huge man, but he'd been strong and he'd been mean, and Kat had always thought that his meanness took up space in the world. People seemed to keep their distance from him. The dean at Mountain Laurel had always humored him, because Virgil's name lent credibility to the college's small art department. His students respected his talent but never liked him as a person. It had always been that way.

  Kat leaned forward in the chair, trying to get a closer look. Her father's hands appeared knotted and limp, nothing like the powerful and graceful hands that had once made wet clay and hard marble submit to his every whim. His skin was decorated with a web of tiny broken capillaries and sagged from the bone of his cheeks, jaw, and elbows. For a moment, Kat imagined that his meanness had faded along with his youth, or had even disappeared altogether sometime in the last twenty years.

  A vision shot through her brain with such force that it knocked the wind from her. She was looking down at her own young hands, knuckles blanched because she held a mallet so fiercely, and she raised that mallet above her head and brought it down on the clay figure of a woman. The woman's face flew across the studio. Kat raised her arms again. And again. And again. Until there was nothing but clumps of clay on the floor.

  Kat nearly jumped when the curtain flew open and a big, smiley nurse barreled into the tight space, greeting the women cheerfully before she went to the patient. Well, Mr. Cavanaugh, it looks like we're going to be admitting you so that you can get a cardiology consult. How does that sound? We'll have you settled upstairs quicker than you can say ?tiddlywinks.'

  A vile hiss seemed to float up from the bed. /Tiddlywinks, my ass./ That comment was followed by a wheezy cough and then more gravelly words: No nurse should be as big as a heifer like you. Cuts back on patient confidence.

  Kat thought she'd fall off her chair. Nola's fingernails dug into Kat's hand. But the nurse continued adjusting his oxygen line and responded calmly. Listen up, Prince Charming. You might be old and sick, but that doesn't give you the right to be a bastard.

  Kat gulped. Her father had just rolled his head to the side and allowed his stare to land directly on target. His eyes pierced hers. Go on and tell her, KatharineI've always been a bastard. Go ahead. You know the story. /Jesus-Hang-Gliding-Christ,/ Nola mumbled.

  I sincerely apologize for him, Kat told the nurse, hearing the weariness in her own voice. It occurred to her that she'd yet to say one word to her father and she was already exhausted by his company. Why had she come here? What the hell had she been thinking? She hated this place, and this place hated her. She already knew with certainty that this whole trip had been a mistake and she hadn't even gotten to the best part yether mother. How much worse would it get? Right then and there, Kat promised herself that her next half-tipsy, spontaneous road-trip fantasy would remain a fantasy.

  He's right, Kat said with a sigh. My father's always been a mean and nasty bastard.

  The nurse's eyes got big and she forced a smile. Well, then. The doctor should be here any minute to chat with you nice people. She swept through the curtain and was gone. It flung open again so quickly that Kat figured the nurse had forgotten something.

  The instant the doctor entered the small space, Kat's heart stopped.

  Forget her dadshe was the one who was going to need a cardiologist. She watched the tall, handsome, dark-haired doctor grab the patient's chart and begin to flip through the pages.

  Kat fought to get enough breath to say the word: /Riley?/ Hell-lo! Nola sing-songed.

  Riley raised his midnight blue eyes to Kat. In that split second, she was sixteen, in his arms, laughing, her heart wide open and her whole life ahead of her. But she blinked and the illusion was gone, and she was looking into the eyes of a tired guy in a white coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck, the words /Riley Bohland, M.D./ embroidered in red on the left chest pocket. He's going to recover, Riley said.

  Kat nodded. I'm glad one of us will.

  Their eyes locked. Nothing else existed except the force of that gaze, the power in it. Riley looked away before Kat could decide what it was that she'd caught a glimpse of. Regret? Longing?

  Virgil let out a raspy laugh. Well, looky hereit's Romeo and Juliet after taxes.

  Riley clipped the chart to its hook at the foot of the hospital bed and ignored the comment. All right, Virgil. We're taking you up to the cardiac unit and let them poke around a bit, do some tests. Could be you'll need a catheterization to unblock your arteries. We'll know by tomorrow.

  Riley turned to Kat, all business. Would you like to help him get settled in his room?

  Kat suddenly felt ill. She stood up and motioned for Nola to get to her feet, too. There was no way in hell Kat was going to hang around to comfort Virgil or deal with this cold, hollowed-out stranger who was once Riley. I think my mother is better suited for that job. We need to be getting back to town.

  She's not here, Katharine.

  Something in her father's voice made Kat freeze. She looked at him, scanning his eyes for an explanation of whatever his voice had just revealed. There was nothing.

  Where'd she go? The cafeteria?

  Her question was met by absolute silence. Kat noticed Riley raise his chin and breathe deep.

  Depends on your views, I suppose, her father said. But no religion I ever heard of offers a cafeteria option for the afterlifeit's usually just heaven or hell. If I had to pick, I'd say heaven, but then, me and the Almighty aren't exactly fishin' buddies, so what do I know?

  It felt like the floor dropped. Or the whole world. And Kat was relieved to feel Nola's steady hand at the small of her back.

  So that was all there was. That cold night when her mother shoved some cash into her hand and di
smissed her own daughter like she was an annoying Jehovah's Witnessthat was all there'd ever be for them. Nothing would ever be fixed. Nothing would ever be taken back. Nothing would ever heal.

  Nola tried to direct Kat back toward the chair. Maybe you should sit down for a minute.

  Kat jerked away and took a step toward Riley. She looked up at him, furious. When? How?

  About a year ago. Cancer.

  We're not staying. Kat pushed her way toward the curtain. She had to squeeze by Riley to get out of the room, and her hand brushed the front of his upper thigh. She thought she'd die. Or collapse in a heap. But she would never/never/let either of those men see her cry.

  Her mother was dead. She'd waited too long to come home.

  Riley called after her, Kat! Please wait!

  Let her go, she heard her father say. You know she had no business coming back in the first place.

  FIVE

  The night rain spat down from the sky, and the wind was cold. Kat scrunched into the neck of her jacket as she walked the cemetery rows, holding the flashlight as steady as she could, the beam landing on one headstone after the next.

  She found the words she'd been searching for on a large, oddly shaped slab of stone, the letters appearing as shadows on white marble. /BettyAnn Cavanaugh, devoted wife and mother…/ As Kat bent at the waist to look closer, the rush of pain forced her eyes shut and her mouth open. She heard a piercingly loud scream, but it was only in her head. No sound came out of her mouth. It hurt too much for soundthere wasn't sound big enough for the sorrow and regret inside her. Her mother was gone. Her mother was pinned down in this dirt, under this bizarre, misshapen headstone, Virgil's artistic vision keeping his wife in her place through all of eternity.

  Nola's hand moved along the length of Kat's spine in firm strokes. I'm sorry, hon. So sorry Kat's insides twisted. She shook her head.

  Let's get you out of the rain. Nola tried to make Kat straighten up.

  Come on, Kat. Please. We can come back in the morning and leave her some flowers.

  It took a moment, but Kat did stand up. She clicked off the flashlight they'd purchased at the Ace Hardware in Elkins, and shoved it in her jacket pocket. She looked up at the sky, gray clouds moving over an endless blackness. She wondered if that's what it felt like to be deadjust nothing. Black nothing everywhere… /Kat's mother pulled the screen door closed between them./ /I'm sorry, Katharine./ /Are you kicking me out because I'm pregnant or because I ruined his stupid sculpture of the governor's wife?/ /Her mother's mouth turned down at the corners. It was his biggest commission since his New York days./ /Kat couldn't believe her ears. Mom! He was screwing her out in his studio! Don't you even care?/ /I've never once questioned your father's behavior and now is not the time to start. It will be better if you go and let me handle him./ /Kat clutched her stomach, shaky and speechless. Her mother was trying to get rid of her. Her father was a liar and a brute and didn't love his wife and kid. He never had. Seeing this so clearly made her feel like she had no footing, like she was dangling in space. Utterly alone. With a baby inside her./ /So where am I supposed to go, Mama?/ /We'll think of something. With unsteady hands, she opened the screen door a crack and shoved a wad of bills into Kat's palm, trying to cover up her fear with a thin smile. Now, run on over to your aunt Rita's. She knows you're coming. Call me in the morning after your dad's gone to his first class and we'll put our heads together, all right? Now get along./ /Kat stared at the money in her hand, then looked up at her mother's gaunt face and hard eyes, knowing with certainty what she'd always suspectedthat if BettyAnn Cavanaugh was ever forced to choose between her husband and her daughter, the choice would be an easy one./ I'm so cold, Nola, Kat mumbled. So cold all of a sudden.

  Nola hooked her arm through Kat's and pulled until she began walking. Of course you're cold. I'm cold. It's cold outside and now we're both soaking wet. Let's get out of here.

  Kat sat motionless in the chair, her eyes staring unfocused into the fireplace. Nola brought her a glass of wine, placed it in her hands, then whisked away wads of used tissue that had accumulated on Kat's lap and around her feet.

  I'm sorry I'm such a mess, Kat said, afraid to look at her best friend for fear of bawling all over again.

  You're not a mess. You're just in shock.

  Kat sniffed. Thanks for going out there with me. I just needed to see for myself.

  I understand.

  Thanks for being here.

  Nola was in the kitchenette, clanking around. Hon, I'm not doing anything you haven't done for me a million timesevery time I got dumped, or divorced, or hey, remember that time we found out Joey had been selling my Grandma Tuti's jewelry on eBay? I must have cried for two weeks straight. Nola returned to her chair by the fire. To tell the truth, I'm kind of enjoying being the stable one for a change.

  Kat managed a smile.

  You want me to stay in your room with you tonight? Now that would /really/ give Madeline something to gossip about.

  Kat laughed. After so many hours of crying, the sound of her own laughter surprised her.

  You're going to be OK, you know. Nola smiled kindly.

  Kat nodded.

  You had two moms in your life and you've just lost both of them, and it's got to suck.

  Kat nodded again, then grabbed another tissue.

  But you can't feel guilty, hon. How could you have known your mom was sick?

  Kat blew her nose and blinked at Nola. I could have called.

  Nola scrunched up her mouth. True.

  Or written.

  Nola nodded. Well, OK.

  Or knocked on their damn door! But I was pissed off and resentful and I never wanted anything to do with my parents the rest of my life!

  There's that, Nola said.

  Kat reached for another tissue and laughed. What a jokeI find out my mother is dead and all I want to do is talk to Phyllis, but she's dead, too!

  Nola scooted her chair closer. I really miss her.

  That woman was amazing, you know? Kat blew her nose. She took me ina complete nobody off the street. She didn't ask any questions. She gave me and my baby a home.

  Nola nodded again.

  And I think she seemed all that more amazing to me because my actual mother couldn't wait to get rid of me!

  Phyllis Turner had the best heart of anyone I ever ran across, Nola said.

  She really did. Kat raised her wineglass. To Phyllis Turnera woman who lived every day proud of who she was, nothing more and nothing less.

  To Phyllis, Nola said, clinking her glass to Kat's. Whose investment instincts weren't too shabby, either.

  They sat for a few minutes in the quiet. Nola put a hand over her mouth to hide her yawn and Kat checked her watch to find it was after eleven.

  It had been one hell of a long day, for everyone.

  Kat stood up. C'mon. Let's both get some sleep. She walked Nola over to the door. Would you mind if we hit the road as early as possible tomorrow, before anything else bad can happen?

  Nola looked confused. What about your aunt Rita, the evil high school principal? Weren't we going to drop in and give her a piece of your mind? Wasn't she on the list of people who owe you an apology?

  Kat chuckled. The list they'd come up with on the drive that morning seemed ridiculous now. I don't have an extra piece of mind to spare at the moment. Maybe I'll write her a letter when we get home.

  Sounds good. Nola stretched. Sleep tight, Kit-Kat.

  You, too. Hey! Wait a sec.

  Nola turned back, yawning again.

  I won't keep you much longer, but look, I know this is probably going to sound dorky You've never had a dorky moment in your life, Kat, except maybe for those yellow plastic snow boots you had back in the early nineties.

  Thanks. So what I was wondering isdo you think anyone could know what love is at the age of sixteen?

  Nola moved her head back in surprise. You're asking for /my/ opinion on relationships?

  Well, yeah.

&nb
sp; Hmm. She scrunched up her mouth. I guess it depends on the person. I sure as hell didn't know love at sixteenor at twenty-one or thirty or thirty-sevenso I'm maybe not the best example. This is about you and Dr.

  Bohunk, I'm assuming.

  Yeah.

  You think it was love?

  Well, if it wasn't, it was as close as I ever got. Probably as close as I'll ever get.

  Nola opened her arms and gave Kat a hug. As Nola pulled away, she focused her rich brown eyes on Kat's. Hear what I'm about to say. Are you listening?

  Kat nodded.

  Don't you dare give up, Kat. If anybody deserves to be rich, beautiful, and in love, it's you, and you're already two-thirds of the way there.

  Thanks.

  And I know you came here for revenge and all, but leave your options openyou might walk away with something even better. See you in the morning.

  Kat locked the door behind Nola and went into the bathroom to wash, exfoliate, tone, infuse, and moisturize her face with the obscenely expensive skin-care system she'd purchased from the spa several days ago. She remembered thinking to herself that nothing was too extravagant if it meant Riley would be rendered weak in the knees at the sight of her glowing beauty. Well, the way she was feeling right then, Riley Bohland could just shove her glowing beauty right up his tight ass.

  How could he be so cold and unfeeling to her? Sure, he was angry about Aidan, but hadn't Riley missed her at all? Didn't he care what had happened to her all these years? Why didn't he throw his arms around herif only out of curiosity?

  Kat brushed her teeth, flossed, and turned out the bathroom light, trying to decide if what she felt inside her belly was a heaviness or an emptiness, or if there was such a thing as a heavy emptiness or an empty heaviness, and whether she should look into therapy now that she had the free time and disposable cash for it.