Natural Selection (3 page)

“$20,000
to start! But the—”

“What?”

“And he said he plans on
giving us additional funds next year.”

Elaine continued to talk while Claudette gushed and asked que
stions, but Emilia was frozen in her tracks. She only knew one man who was so generous with his money, one man who cared enough about her do to something so lucrative…

“How do we know this is for real?”

“What?” Both women turned to her at the same time. Apparently they were already beginning to discuss what to do with the money, and the dose of reality had ruined their fun.

“How do we know this is the real deal and not just a prank or something?”

“Because he already sent the money! Haven’t you been paying attention?”

No, s
he had to admit, she hadn’t.

“
Who
sent the money?” she asked, more roughly than she intended to. “Who is this big benefactor?”

“Oh, ah—” Elaine
glanced at the papers in her hand and squinted hard. Normally, Emilia would have fetched her glasses for her, but she found herself unable to move. She didn’t know what she would do if one of the next words Elaine said was “Kasper”—if she even wanted it to be or not.

“Some German guy
.” She sighed. “A Carl von Weber.”

“German?” Claudette laughed and clapped her hands. “I’m going to make him a batch of strudel!”

“Hell…” Elaine laughed. “I’m going to teach the dogs tricks in German!”

They laughed
and compared all the things they would do for their new patron. Emilia, however, had already signed out of the conversation and tried again to pull up her hair. She even walked around them while Claudette pushed Elaine around in the chair and they sang “Alouette.” She didn’t have the heart to tell them it was French.

“I’m going to go walk some of the guys.”

Emilia grabbed three harnesses and several chain leashes and headed out to the kennel. The first thing any of the dogs at Home at Last learned was that the sight of a leash meant walking time, and they all barked louder than before, clawing at their cages happily or running in small circles in the hopes of being picked.

“Come on
, Smokey, Butterball.” She nodded to the three-legged pup in the cage next to them. “Don’t worry, Checkers, you’re next.”

Emilia hooked them up and let them pull her out, not bothering to yank back on the leash or yell at them to heel. She didn’t even give Butterball a hard time for barking at a
jogger or for growling at a car at a stop sign. Instead, she soaked in the humidity and let the name of the patron ring in her ears. It was possible that it had been
a
consequence, entirely possible that she misheard or that Elaine had mispronounced the name, yet as she rounded the sidewalk, she refuted the unlikelihood of all of those things.

After all, what were the odds that this benefactor would have the same name as one of her favorite composers?

Chapter 2

Generosity

Emilia
waited until she was safely back in her apartment before calling him. She could give herself points for that much self-control, right? An A for effort? Emilia had even made sure Tut had a good jog around the block and a belly full of his beef-flavored cereal before she began her timely stare down with the phone. While she had stopped calling him after the first few weeks of no response, resigning herself to the fact that he no longer wanted her, this was something altogether different. If Kasper had made this donation, then he had to have known the shelter was in trouble, right? At the very least had to say thank you, didn’t she? But if he
had
done this, then what did that mean? Was he spying on her again?

They had stopped communicating wi
th each other so soon after leaving New York, and other than making sure she had arrived safety and settled in properly, she hadn’t heard from him. Was this Kasper’s way of signifying that he wanted to communicate with her again? Of trying to let her know that he was sorry?

Af
ter biting her nails down to nubs, she dredged up the courage to take the phone off the hook, only to put it back down again. What if it was just a silly coincidence and she looked like a pathetic little girl trying to call him again? Emilia sighed and wrung her hands. Just when she thought she was genuinely beginning to get over him, why did this have to happen?

During those first few weeks
, how many times did she have a dream about him or hear a song that reminded her of him, only to have it ruin any chance of a good day? That phase in her heartbreak had ended, however, and she was living her life the best way she knew how. Hell, she had left the state, started a new job, was going to a different school, and had a place of her own for the first time. Emilia was doing everything she had to do to achieve her goal of becoming a veterinarian and being an independent person. Yet, still it seemed, she couldn’t shake him out of her head and heart. Emilia knew that even if he hadn’t been the one to make this donation, the mere possibility of him doing so would set her recovery back significantly.

This was ridiculous! How was she supp
osed to be a self-sufficient woman when in the pit of her soul she was still obsessing about Kasper, lusting after him? She took her finger out of her mouth and snapped it. She would make herself call him no matter how lame it made her seem—how feeble. She picked up the phone again and pretended like she didn’t notice her jittery legs as she dialed the numbers.

It rang and rang but no one picked it up.

***

Kasper stared at the phone on the wall. After he was confident that she had reached New York safely and Frankford had assured him of the safety of her neighborhood
, he’d had it disconnected—no longer capable of avoiding the temptation that was its constant ringing and the voice he knew would be on the other end. He had even gone so far as to make Mrs. Levkin apply a password to her cellular phone so he would not be tempted. While it was unlikely, he was always aware of the possibility that his angel would persist in her kind worries and call Mrs. Levkin when he did not respond to her calls. And like many other times, he threatened to fire her for taking any of the young woman’s calls.

It was the first time he meant it.

Perhaps, however, if there was some good to come out of his perpetual misery, it was his music. Like many artists that would come before and after him, his work was fueled by sorrow. Every note he wrote was clairvoyant and vigorous, and when they were transferred from paper to instrument, Iram Manor briefly came back to life like a corpse being resuscitated.

Heaving a sigh, he
put the violin back in its case. Kasper played so often now that his fingers no longer bled from the torn calluses, but the increased exercise hurt the joints in his knuckles. Kasper, however, did not mind the pain. On the contrary, he rather liked it, the constant reminder that his body was slowly working its way toward disintegration. 

“
What is this check for?”

Kasper reached for his glass of
bourbon and took a long, deep sip. “Doesn’t anyone around here knock anymore?”

Despite the fact that
he wasn’t looking at Mrs. Levkin, he could still feel her eyes rolling while she knocked on the wall closest to her. “There. Satisfied now?”

He to
ok another sip. If Emilia were here, she would have laughed at the woman’s snarkiness. Kasper closed his eyes and tried picturing it in his mind. It was so clear to him it almost made him smile.

“Kasper? Kasper?”

He huffed and took another drink. As quickly as the image had entered his mind, it left him, and he felt more alone than ever.

“Why are you bothering me again?”

Kasper turned as she put her reading glasses on, her eyes widening as she read something alarming to her. “What is this $20,000 deduction in your checking for? It isn’t enough for the kinds of cars you like, and you wouldn’t waste time picking out new appliances. Are you getting a new piano?”

“It is jus
t a charity.” He sat down and took the last gulp from his glass. “A charity…”

From the corner of his eye, Kasper watched Mrs. Le
vkin remove her glasses, her little mind putting the pieces together. Oh, how he wished that she would just leave him alone, how they all would just leave him alone to wither away in peace! If they did, he might just fade faster, die sooner.

“You’ve never donated more than $10,000 to any charity before.”

Kasper closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “I’ll have you know my time is worth a
great
deal more than that, and I have donated several hours’ worth of work to several organizations.”

“Why didn’t you do that for
this
organization, then?” She eyed him suspiciously but he pretended not to notice.

“
Well, you know…” He smiled and rolled the ice around in his glass. “Tax write-offs and all that.”

Her
sigh alone made it clear that she didn’t believe him. “What charity is this for again?”

Standing up to pour himself another drink, Kasper watched his glass while the
sun created rainbows off the crystal. To a simple-minded person, it was such an unpretentious thing, but he knew the process itself by which the light reflected off the glass was complex and wonderful. He clutched the glass to his chest—one more thing to remind him of Emilia Ward.

“Kasper?”

“An animal shelter,” he snapped.

The response was intended to dismiss her, but Mrs. Levkin stood fast
, now understanding what Kasper was doing. Immediately, she smiled and Kasper hated it.

“One in New York
, I presume?”

Kasper said nothing.

“I don’t understand your behavior.” She sighed. “Clearly, you still love this girl—”

“Be quiet, you hag! I’m tired of everyone around here lecturing me like I’m some child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

Mrs. Levkin walked into the room as though she owned it and did not hesitate to face him. With her stern face and tired eyes
, she stared at him, making it plain that she was as angry as she sounded.

“You should mind your place
, old woman.”

“I am minding
my
place. You have been moping around here for the last year like you have been given a death sentence, and since you’ve made it clear you’re not going to snap out of it, you need to just go ahead and die or do something to make yourself better.”

He almost smiled. “Suicide seems a bit dramatic
, don’t you think?”

“I do
.” She nodded. “Not to mention that I would be out of a job—”

“I would be sure to write you a dazzling recommendation before I made my final exit.” He finally did smile then. Only jo
kes about his death and remembrances of Emilia did that anymore.

“Stop that
,” she chided. “No one is going to let you hurt yourself, and if you don’t contact Emilia Ward soon, I will.”

“Didn’t you just say that you
valued
your position?”

Mrs. Levkin sighed. It seemed that instead of her patience increasing with age
, it was only decreasing.

“The world is not the big place you perceive. And I seriously doubt that between all of them there
are as many who would be as willing to work with you as you with them.”

He clicked his teeth together. Isn’t that what Aasif always said? He really did need to break up those little chats of theirs.

“If you don’t think of yourself, then think of the rest of us,” she tried again. “Your presence alone is so depressing that even the plants wilt when you walk into a room. Several clients have sent back proposals, complaining that they are too
morbid
—”

Kasper had to admit
he almost smiled at that one, although only in the appropriateness of the comment. He had a face like death, so why should his appearance and work not destroy all those who came across it?

“Kasper?”

She did not wait for his silence and continued without permission:

“
Very well, if you won’t think of anyone else, or yourself, consider this: if you have no more clients, then you will no longer be able to donate to
charities
of your choice. If you think the only good you are to Emilia is in your money, then think about how useless you will be if you have none!”

The older woman chided herself for being so harsh. She had intended to scold Kasper with tough love, not give him more
motivation to sulk. She sighed and tried again:

“If that girl loves y
ou with even an ounce to match how much you love her, then she would want you to be happy. All of this self-destructive behavior must end before you truly do some damage to yourself. What if she needs you some day, and you are bed-ridden with a rotting liver?

“What do you propose I do
, then?” he roared. “Invade her life once again? Throw myself on her mercy?”

“Yes!” she snapped. “If it
will give you peace, some sense of closure, then that is exactly what I propose you do! If nothing else, you should give yourself an opportunity to be happy. And if you need to see her again, that is exactly what you should do! Life is too short to not be bold, Kasper! You of all people should know that!”

Little did Mrs. Levkin understand that his little peach was the o
nly happiness he had ever known and that life itself—or at least his—had already been horrifically too long. Still, perhaps the meddling old woman had a point. If he could at least see her again, have undeniable proof that she wasn’t just well but happy and secure in her new life, then maybe it would be easier to accept not having her in his.

He put down the bottle
. “I suppose you’re still capable of having the car prepared, then?”

Ju
st maybe, he thought, it was time to be bold.

***

Emilia was only two steps up the stairwell when Tut began his rampage of happy squealing from the floor above. She laughed and listened to the sound of his nails clip-clopping on the floor, his hesitation to scratch at the door because he knew he would be in trouble for doing so.

“Hey there
.”

She nodded at Andrew
, who sat at the top of the stairs, surrounded by textbooks and papers, but when he saw the bag of groceries in her arms, he slid his textbook to the side and rushed to meet her.

“Need a hand?”

“No thanks, I think I’ve got—”

He smiled wide and swindled the brown bag from her before she could completely say no.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I always forget what a gentleman you are.”

“T
hen I’m just going to have to keep reminding you.”

Emilia laughed and finished taking the stairs two at a time, half afraid that Tut would have an accident if he cont
inued to hear her voice without seeing her. Andrew followed close behind.

Tut rushed
Emilia within a second of her unlocking the door and turning the knob. She welcomed his slobbery kisses with laughter, holding her breath at how bad his was and scratching his ears to show him equal affection. In the midst of the assault, she was vaguely aware of Andrew slipping past them and putting the groceries on the counter, but Tut remained oblivious.

“Hi-ya
, Tut,” he said after a second. “Don’t I get any love?”

“Oh please.” S
he laughed again and attempted to push Tut away, but now he was happily sniffing her hair and ears, seemingly confused at the smell of dog that did not belong to him. “Take the love. Take all the love… and the drool that comes with it.”