A Perfect Stranger (17 page)

What do you think?

What do I think? She sounded a little surprised to be asked. I think it's wonderful. You're her uncle and you love her. And then, shyly, Alex' could I could I fix up her room? He nodded slowly, thinking. He wanted to tell her to wait, until they knew if Amanda would make it, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Instead he only nodded again, as though wanting to force the fates.

Go ahead. And with that he looked at his watch and realized that he had to get back to the hospital. Call me later, if you can. I have to go back. It was wonderful, her presence in his life now. No more silence, no more waiting, no more agony, or ghastly sense of loss. She was there as though she had always been and always would be. I love you.

I love you too, darling. Take good care.

He gently put the phone back on its cradle, and with a soft smile his mother quietly disappeared into the kitchen to make tea. When she returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups, she saw that Alex was already wearing his coat.

You're going back now? He nodded soberly, and without saying more, she picked up her own coat again. But Alex instantly stopped her. She had been at the hospital all night the previous night.

I want you to get some rest.

I can't, Alex. And when he saw the look in her eyes, he said nothing more. They each took a sip of their tea and went outside to hail a cab.

He was looking down at Amanda from the doorway, and all he could see was the narrow bundle huddled in the white sheets and blue blankets on the bed. From the angle at which the girl was lying, Charlotte could still not see her face. But as she walked around the bed to stand next to Alex, she had to fight her own reactions so that they wouldn't show in her face. She had felt the same way again and again the night before.

What she saw before her was a tiny young girl who looked more like nine than seventeen, but only by her shape and the size of her hands and arms could one distinguish vaguely what was her sex and age. Her arms were mostly encased in plaster, her hands lay exposed and immobile, like two small sleeping birds, and the face that they looked at on the pillow was only a blur of swelling and bruises in purples and blues. Her hair framed her face like a soft curly halo, and the eyes that opened were of a clean, bright blue. They looked a little like Charlotte's, and a little bit like Alex's, but it was hard to tell now, they looked so anguished and rapidly filled with tears.

Mandy? His voice was a whisper, and he didn't dare touch even her hand now for fear that it would hurt. She nodded slowly in answer, not saying a word. I'm back, and I brought Grandma with me. Amanda's eyes went to her grandmother as two steady rivers of tears flowed into the pillow beneath her head. There was no sound for a long moment as the heart-rending blue eyes looked at the familiar faces, and then once again there were sobs as Alex gently stroked her hair. There was a communication between them that went beyond words, and Alex only stood there, his eyes gentle, his hand soft and smooth on the girl's hair. And in a moment Amanda closed her eyes again and fell asleep. A nurse signaled to them a moment later, and Charlotte and Alex left the room. They both looked exhausted and desperately worried, but in Alex's eyes there was a growing seed of fury for his sister, Kay. It didn't explode from him until they reached Charlotte's apartment, and when they did, he was almost too angry for words.

I know what you're thinking, Alex. His mother's voice was gentle. But right now it won't help.

Why not?

Why don't you take it easy until you can talk to Kay. You can get it all out of your system then.

And when will that be? When do you suppose Her Majesty will finally turn up?

I wish I knew, Alex.

As it turned out, it was the next day.

Alex was sipping coffee from a plastic cup, and Charlotte had gone home for a few hours to have a nap. They moved Amanda that morning out of intensive care into a little brightly painted pink room. And now she lay looking just as battered and broken, but there was something a little bit more lively in her eyes. Alex had been talking to her about San Francisco, and once or twice she had almost looked as though she cared.

It was at the end of the day that she finally spoke of her fears to her uncle.

What am I going to tell people? How can I explain what happened? I know my face is all messed up. One of the nurses' aides said so. They hadn't allowed her a mirror. And look at my arms. She looked at the two cumbersome plaster casts molded around her elbows, and Alex glanced at them but failed to look impressed.

You're going to tell them that you had a car accident on Thanksgiving. That's all. It's perfectly plausible. And then with a look of intense meaning he looked straight at Amanda and put a hand on her shoulder. Darling, no one ever has to know. Not unless you tell them, and that's up to you. But other than that, no one knows. Only your parents, your grandmother, and I.

And whoever reads the papers. Then with another look of despair at Alex, Was I on the news?

He shook his head in answer. No, you were not. I told you. No one has to know. You haven't been shamed. You're no different than you were before you came in here. You're the same, Amanda. You had a terrible accident, and horrible experience, but that's all it was. It didn't change you. It wasn't your fault. People won't respond to you differently, Amanda. You haven't changed. It was what the therapist had stressed to him that morning, that they had to insist to Amanda that she was not different now and that it was not in any way her fault. Apparently it was common among rape victims to think that they were in some way responsible for what had happened, and afterward to think that they had been altered in some major way. Admittedly in Mandy's case she was perhaps more altered than others. She had lost her virginity to a rapist. There was no doubt that the experience would affect her severely, but with treatment and a great deal of understanding, the psychiatrists felt that she had a good chance of coming out of it whole. His only regret, he had mentioned to them that morning, was that he had not been able to meet with Amanda's mother, and unfortunately Dr. Willard didn't have time for a consultation either, but his secretary had called to tell the psychiatrist to go ahead and meet with the girl.

But it's not just the victim in these cases who needs help, he had stressed to Alex. It's the family who needs help as well. Their outlook, their view of what happened, will color the victim's attitude about herself forever. And then he had looked at him with a small smile. But I'm awfully glad that you could talk to me this morning. And I'm seeing Amanda's grandmother this afternoon. And then he had added sheepishly the rejoinder that Alex had heard for most of his life. You know, my wife reads all her books.

But right now his mother's books were not foremost on his mind. He had also asked Amanda's doctor how soon she could go home, and he had said that he felt certain that she could be released by the end of the week. That meant Friday, if not before, which suited him perfectly. The sooner he got Amanda back to San Francisco, the happier he would be. And it was that that he was thinking of as Kay walked into the room, looking lanky and chic in a brown suede pantsuit trimmed with red fox.

Their eyes met and held for a long moment, and Kay said not a word. They had suddenly become opponents in the ring, and each one was aware of just how lethal the other could be.

Hello, Kay. Alex spoke first. He wanted to ask her how she could explain how long it had taken her to show up at the hospital, but he didn't want to make a scene in front of his niece. He didn't really have to. Everything he felt, all his fury, was easy to read in his eyes.

Hello, Alex. Nice of you to come East.

Nice of you to come up from Washington. Round one. You must be very busy. Amanda was watching them, and Alex saw her face go pale. He hesitated for only a moment and then he left the room. When Kay emerged again a few moments later, he was waiting for her in an alcove down the hall. I want to talk to you for a minute.

She looked at him with mock amusement. I figured you would. Such a nervous little uncle, coming all the way to New York.

Are you aware, Kay, that your child almost died?

Perfectly. George checked her charts three times a day. If things had gotten worse, I'd have come home. As it was, if it's any of your goddamn business, I couldn't.

Why not?

I had two meetings with the President. Satisfied?

Not really. On Thanksgiving?

That's right. At Camp David.

Do you expect me to be impressed?

That's your business. But my daughter is mine.

Not when you totally abdicate your responsibilities, Kay. She needs a hell of a lot more than just George looking at her charts. She needs love, for chris-sake, and tenderness, and interest, and understanding. My God, Kay. She's just a child. And she's been beaten and raped. Can't you even conceive of what that means?

Perfectly. But nothing I do now will change that. And two days didn't make any difference. She's going to have to live with this for a lifetime.

And how much of that time are you going to devote to her?

That's none of your fucking business.

I've decided otherwise. His eyes were like steel.

And just what exactly does that mean?

I'm taking her back with me. They said she could travel by Friday.

The hell you are. Kay Willard's eyes blazed. You take that child anywhere and I'll have you in jail for kidnapping.

You filthy bitch. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. As a matter of fact, my dear, unless you are fully prepared to answer to charges of child abuse, I wouldn't do a damn thing if I were you. Kidnapping, my ass.

What do you mean, child abuse?

Just that, and criminal negligence.

You really think you'd have a chance of making that stick? My husband is one of the most prominent surgeons in New York, a great humanitarian, dear Alex.

Fine. Prove it in court. You'd love that, wouldn't you? It would look sensational in the papers.

You son of a bitch. She had finally begun to realize that he meant it. Just what exactly do you have in mind?

Nothing elaborate. Amanda is coming to California with me. Permanently. And if you need something to tell your constituents, you can explain that she had a severe accident and needs extensive rest in a warm climate. That ought to do the trick.

And what do I tell George?

That's your problem.

She looked at him with a kind of morbid fascination. You really mean it, don't you?

I do.

Why?

Because I love her.

And you think I don't? She didn't even look hurt, just annoyed.

Alex sighed softly. I don't think you have time to love anyone, Kay. Except maybe the voters. You care whether or not they'll cast their lot with you. I don't know what makes you tick anymore, and I don't really care. All I do know is that it's destroying that child, and I won't let it' I won't let you.

And you're going to save her? How touching. Don't you think it would be a little healthier for you to use your spare emotional energy on a grown woman and not a seventeen-year-old girl? You realize that all of this is a little sick, don't you? But she didn't look genuinely worried and he knew she wasn't. She was just mad as hell, and she had no way out.

Why don't you keep your seamy little insinuations to yourself, along with your ambitions in regard to my ex-wife.

That has nothing to do with it. But it was obvious that she was lying. I think you're an ass, Alex. And you're playing games just like Amanda.

You think getting raped was a game?

Maybe. I'm not too clear on the details yet. Maybe this is what she wanted. To be rescued by her big handsome uncle. Maybe this is all her little plot.

I think you're sick.

Do you? Well, Alex, it doesn't worry me what you think. And I'll let you play your little game for a while. It might do her good. But I'm coming out to get her in a month or two, and that'll be the end of it. So if you think you're going to hang on to her, you're crazy.

Am I? Are you willing to face those charges I mentioned?

You wouldn't.

Don't try me. They stood there for a moment, equal in their antagonism, Alex having won for the moment. Unless something back here changes radically, she's staying with me.

Have you told her that you're planning to save her from me?

Not yet. She was hysterical until this morning. Kay said nothing, and then with a last venomous look she started to walk away. She stopped for a moment and leveled a vicious glare into her brother's eyes.

Don't think you can play your hero role forever, Alex. You can have her out there for now, but when I want her home, she's coming. Is that clear?

I don't think you understand my position.

I don't think you understand mine. It's a dangerous one. What you're doing could affect me politically, and that's something I won't tolerate, not from my own brother.

Then you'd better keep your ass in line, lady, and stay out of my hair. And that's a warning. She wanted to laugh at him then, but she couldn't. For the first time in her life she was afraid of her younger brother.

I don't understand why you're doing this.

You wouldn't. But I do. And so will Amanda.

Remember what I said, Alex. When I need her to come home, she comes back here.

Why? To impress the voters with what a great mother you are? That's a crock of shit. But as he said it she took a step toward him as though to slap him. He grabbed her wrist first and the look in his eyes was terrifying. Don't do it, Kay.

Then get the hell out of my life.

With pleasure. His eyes glinted with victory, and she turned on her heel and walked away as quickly as she could, disappearing a moment later around a bend and into the elevator, and only moments after that into the limousine that waited for her at the curb.

When Alex walked back into Amanda's room, she was sleeping and he gently stroked her hair on the pillow, picked up his coat, and left. But as he walked quietly through the lobby he decided that he couldn't wait till he got to his mother's apartment to call. It was taking a chance to call her, but he had to. He had to share it with someone, and he only wanted to share it with her. With a businesslike voice he asked to speak to Mrs. Phillips. And she came on the line a moment later.