The Girl Most Likely To... (27 page)

Kat punched a fist into the air, stomped her feet, and mouthed a silent, /Woo hoo!/all of which was witnessed by four ladies gawking from under their hair dryers. This, too, would be around town by supper time.

Rachel is always welcome, she answered Aidan, trying to sound casual.

He laughed, almost as if he'd witnessed her little break dance of joy.

You're too much, Mom. Talk to you later.

I love you.

He'd already hung up, but she didn't care. She'd talked to her boy. He was coming. And he'd just referred to Riley as Dad!

With the bounce restored to her walk, Kat headed south on Main and stopped in the coffee shop, a long sleek space with modern bistro tables, colorful couches, and some kind of Latin jazz floating down from the ceiling. Every student in the place was on a laptop and/or a cell phone. The rich smell of roasting coffee filled her head. /This was Persuasion?/ Kat laughed out loud.

She got a cafй au lait to go and headed north. She hadn't called Rita in advance but figured if she wasn't available she could still have a look around Underwood High for laughs. She walked at a leisurely pace, catching little changes in the town that she hadn't noticed the last time. The clock tower on the square actually displayed the correct time.

The sidewalks on Main Street were twice as wide as they once were, and trimmed in a fancy redbrick basket-weave pattern. Streetlights designed like old gas lamps lined the length of the shopping district, each one sporting a hanging basket of autumn annuals. Kat hummed to herself in approval.

As she reached the intersection with Forest Drive, she stopped cold, all the cheerfulness gone in an instant. She dared herself to look.

It was just a house. A squat, ugly, yellow brick ranch house with a tacky 1950s door and a trashed yard. Her eyes flickered to the garage studio, and the sight opened a gaping hole in her belly.

One day soon she would go back there. She would open the door to the studio and look her father in the eye and say her fill.

Just not today.

She moved along for six more blocks, knowing her sights were set on a smaller fish. Kat opened the door to the school, followed security warnings for visitors to report to the office, and encountered the same secretary at the same desk, wearing an outfit Kat swore was right out of 1987.

Kat felt awful because she couldn't remember the secretary's name. As it turned out, she didn't have to.

She's here! the woman called over her shoulder.

Within seconds, Kat's aunt appeared, offering her hand and a courteous smile. I've been expecting you, Katharine, she said.

You owe me.

You sound deranged, was Carrie's reply. I'm concerned for your well-being.

Madeline began laughing so hard she thought she'd pee her pants, considering that that came from a woman who had pranced around in a wedding dress in this very kitchen not even three weeks ago, holding up her boobs and saying she looked like Grace Kelly.

When Madeline could finally stop laughing, she tucked the phone under her chin and methodically scraped the cake batter in the Bundt pan. She was trying a new recipe that called for a dash of amaretto, which she thought would be lovely.

Well, here's the deal, Carrieyou manipulated me, lied to me, and made a fool of me in front of the Bohlands. And now you owe me. It's pretty simple.

I'm very busy these days. Now that the wedding is off, you'd be amazed how much time I have to pursue other things. I'm taking tai chi. I'm in therapy.

Madeline snorted. That's just great. So, how do you plan to do it?

Do what?

Make it up to me?

Carrie let loose with a giant sigh of exasperation. I really don't have time for this kind of thing. I'm testifying in front of the legislature next week on domestic violence prevention initiatives.

Madeline let loose with a snicker.

Besides, I'm turning over a new leaf. This junior-high stuff you seem to bring out in me has got to stop. At any rate, you ratted me out to Matt.

You're a gossip, and that is a crippling dysfunction. I would recommend a Co-dependents Anonymous meeting.

Madeline rolled her eyes, reaching into the pantry for the confectioners' sugar and the roasted almonds she'd be using to garnish the cake.

I really have to go, Carrie said cheerfully. Take care.

Oh no, you don't. Madeline dropped the baking supplies on the countertop. She was never going to take this kind crap from Carrie Mathisor anyone elseagain. It was time for Madeline Bowman to be on top.

Maybe I'll go straight to the state medical board with your secret to weight loss.

Silence.

I know all about your problems, Carrie. I cleaned up after you every time you were a guest here, remember? I'm not stupid. I snooped around in the garbage and in your luggage, too, which helped flesh out the overall picture, no pun intended.

Carrie gasped.

If the big boys in the statehouse knew they had a bulimic, laxative-munching ephedrine addict like you in charge of changing the freaking /copier toner/ at the health department, they'd kick your skinny ass all the way to Kentucky. But you're the state's poster child for wholesome living, Carrie! You're on TV every damn day, telling the entire state of West Virginia how to be healthy! Can you /imagine/ how embarrassed that will make your bosses?

Don't you dare threaten me, Carrie said.

Then just do what I ask. It's your turn to do some of the dirty work around here.

That's blackmail.

No, Madeline said matter-of-factly. Blackmail would be if I threatened to let everyone know you're a stalker by telling the Charleston newspaper about a little ole restraining order that's tucked away up here in the Randolph County Courthouse files.

Carrie gasped. How did you hear about that?

The county clerk is my former sister-in-law.

What do you want?

I'd like you to use all your considerable talents to get Matt Bohland's new girlfriend to dump him flat. And I want it done by Thanksgiving.

Kat sat in the passenger seat of Rita Cavanaugh's sedan, not recalling a time in her life when she'd felt more awkward. Rita had always reminded Kat of Virgil in the way she held her head, the slight hunch of her back, and the vibe she gave off that she couldn't stand to be in the same room with Kat.

So you've been living in Baltimore all these years.

Kat nodded wearily. How did you know I was coming to see you today?

From what I understand, you were supposed to come see me the evening of January seventh, nineteen-eighty-eight, she said with a laugh. That's what your mother told you to do.

I didn't feel like it. You'd just thrown me out of school, remember?

Rita shook her head. Oh, Katharine, you're still the same smart-alecky know-it-all you were in tenth grade, only hearing the parts you choose to hear.

Kat felt like screaming.

What I said to you that day was that you could attend classes until you began to show. I didn't kick you out. Those are two different things.

Right. My mistake.

Rita drove on in silence while Kat gained the courage to do what she'd come here for.

I think your response was unbelievably cruel, Rita.

She looked sideways at Kat with irritation.

I was a child, Kat continued. I was scared to death. And all you cared about was how it would reflect on you.

The whole family, Katharine. I cared about how it would reflect on your parents as well.

Kat shook her head. This is Persuasion we're talking about. Even if I never set foot in school again, everyone would still know I was pregnant.

I'll tell you what the real tragedy is, Katharinethat an intelligent girl like you couldn't keep her drawers on a bit longer.

That was enough. Stop. I'm getting out of the car.

Oh, please. Rita waved her hand to dismiss the request. This won't take but a second. I just want to give you a few boxes of your mother's things that she wanted you to have. As soon as I heard you were in town, I brought them down from the attic.

Kat propped her elbow on the edge of the passenger's-side window and held her forehead in her hand. She wondered what things her mother could have possibly wanted her to have. Sentimentality was never a quality Kat had associated with BettyAnn Cavanaugh.

Have you spoken to your father?

Only briefly at the hospital.

Rita nodded. You really should have a talk with him. It would be good for you both. I know he would appreciate it.

Kat laughed at that one. He hasn't appreciated a single thing I've done in my life.

He won't be around forever, you know, and once he's dead, that's it.

Just like my mother, Kat said.

Rita turned down the street where she'd lived as long as Kat could remember. Come grab one of the boxes, she told Kat.

The moment she stepped inside Rita's foyer, Kat became nauseous.

Something about the smell of the home caused Kat's throat to tighten and her stomach to cramp. She felt panicky. Rita looked at her like she was crazy, so Kat picked up a carton and carried it to the trunk, talking sense to herself, recalling how she'd read somewhere that smell was the most primitive sense, hardwired to the brain's memory center. Kat got another box and repeated the process, and this time the sensation hit her even more strongly. Thankfully, Rita carried the last box.

When they were back in the car, Rita looked at Kat and asked, Is something wrong?

No more than usual, Kat answered.

Well then, do you remember Joanna Loveless? She was a year ahead of you, I think.

I guess.

She's the editor of the local paper now, and she inquired whether you might agree to be interviewed for a holiday feature articlea kind of a homecoming thing.

Ugh.

That's what I told her you'd say.

Rita pulled up in front of the bungalow on Laurel Lane, which made Kat laugh.

I didn't tell you where I was living.

You didn't have to.

Rita waited in the car, staring out the window at something way down the street that must have been fascinating while Kat carried the boxes inside, one by one. /Cold, cold, cold/. That was all Kat could think as she moved the cartons. It was more than a word, though. It was an image, a feeling, and it wasn't just about her aunt's lovely personality. The feeling was so severe that there wasn't room in Kat's senses for anything else but all that freezing /cold/.

Rita drove away with a casual wave and Kat entered her own comfortable retreat. That's when it dawned on herit was a taste she was remembering, not a smell, and it was steadily rising from the depths of her childhood and placing itself right on her tongue.

Kat felt heavy and weak. When the front door opened, she didn't have the energy to look up to see who it was.

When you shell out for premium leather furniture, you don't have to sit on the floor anymore, hon. Nola breezed in. And I thought we finished unpacking a long time ago. Did you find more boxes?

Kat felt awareness returning to her body. She was in the middle of her living room floor, sitting cross-legged on the new rug, with her left foot asleep. She still had her coat on. She looked up at Nola.

Oh my God! What's wrong? Nola collapsed down on her knees in front of Kat. Darlin', are you all right? What happened? Are you hurt? You've been crying. Nola touched Kat's cheek, then the wet lapel of Kat's corduroy jacket. I'm calling Riley.

No. Kat's eyes began to focus. She must really be in bad shape if Nola looked that horrified. I'm OK.

Nola unbuttoned Kat's jacket and peeled it off her arms. She hoisted her up and got her to lie on the couch. I'll heat some water for tea. Stay right there. Don't move.

All this hullabaloo was about ice cream, for God's sakehomemade peach ice cream. Kat slapped her own cheeks. What kind of woman had to lie down on the couch to recover from thinking of peach ice cream? At least it now made sense why Kat had hated the taste and smell of peaches her whole life. Funny how those things worked.

Nola returned, moving Kat's legs so she could sit down next to her.

Riley's on his way.

Kat shut her eyes and groaned. That wasn't necessary.

What's going on, hon? Nola reached out and moved a strand of hair back from Kat's face. You didn't go see Virgil, did you?

Kat shook her head. His sister.

That trifling principal bitch.

Kat laughed, reaching to touch Nola's arm. Thanks for having my back.

Always.

So how did the interview go? Kat knew that Nola had interviewed for a job as a paralegal at the town's only lawyer's office.

I got it, of course. Where are they gonna find someone like me all the way out here? A grin spread over Nola's face. And Matt's going to be thrilled.

Kat sat up slowly, feeling a little better, and not wanting Riley to walk in and find her stretched out like an invalid. That's great news, Nola.

So what happened with your aunt?

Kat shook her head. I feel ridiculous. All I do is whine to you and Riley about all this stuff about my past, and I'm sure you're both sick of it by now.

Nope. Nola stroked Kat's arm. Coming back here is just flogging your memory is all. It's perfectly natural.

Kat smiled. Her friend might have chosen the wrong word, but she had the right ideaKat's brain did feel like it was being flogged. Thanks, she told Nola.

Now spill it. What did you remember? More about the sculpture? Your mom?

Kat folded her hands in her lap and decided she'd just tell it straight and get it over with. It was such a stupid thing, really.

I was at my aunt Rita's for some kind of summer picnic. I think I was about seven. I kept asking my dad when I could have some ice creamsomebody had churned a big batch of peach ice cream. Kat took a moment to steady herself. My dad told me I had to wait until he said it was time, but I just kept bugging him.