"I'm okay," she said.
His voiced faded as she heard him say, "It's Mom. She's okay." Relieved murmurs from Kevin and Lizzie in the background, then his voice louder again. "We've been worried sick about you. Why didn't you call? It was like you dropped off the face of the earth. When you didn't show up this afternoon I started calling your friend's phone, your cell phone—no answer anywhere. We've been frantic. I was just about to call the New York police!"
"It's been terrible here, Ron," Kate said. "Jeanette's in a coma. I don't think she's coming out of it."
She wanted to tell as few lies as possible, but since no one would believe the truth, she'd have to stretch it. Jeanette—the real Jeanette—was in a coma of sorts.
"Oh," Ron said. "I'm sorry. But you could have called."
"And then there's my brother Jack."
"The long lost Jack?"
"I ran into him here and three or four days later he becomes seriously ill—high fever, delirious. So it's been one thing on top of another."
"Sounds terrible." His voice descended from anxiety to understanding. That had always been Ron's strong suit: understanding. "And you don't sound so hot yourself."
"I haven't been feeling quite myself."
"Still… you could have called. Are you still in New York?"
Yes.
"Then there's no way you can make the concert." He lowered his voice. "Lizzie will be heartbroken."
"I know that, Ron. Don't you think I feel bad enough? Put her on, will you.
And then her dear sweet daughter came on and Kate pleaded for understanding and Lizzie told her it was all right, there'd be other concerts—she'd do a command performance for her mother when she came home—and Kate burst into tears and promised that as long as she lived she'd never miss another recital.
"You know I love you more than life itself, Lizzie," she said. "Never forget that, no matter what happens."
And then she spoke to Kevin.
"I feel so bad," she told him. "After my big lecture about doing things as a family, I'm the one who's not going make it. But if there was any way I could be there you know I would."
"Sure, Ma."
"So be there in my place, okay, Kev? Be my surrogate."
And then she told him how proud she was of him, how she loved him and wanted only the best for him, always and forever.
Ron came back on, his voice hushed. "Is something wrong, Kate? You sound so strange. You've spooked the kids."
"I don't mean to upset them," she said. "Maybe it's all the terrible luck Jeanette's been having. It's makes you think of all the good fortune you've had in your life. And the not-so-good things you've done. I'm sorry I messed up your life, Ron."
"You? No, it was—"
"Me, Ron. Me all the way. You're a good man and you'd have been better off if we'd never met."
"But then there wouldn't be Kevin and Lizzie."
"Yes, there's that. Our crowning achievements." She swallowed. "Are you happy, Ron?"
"Me?" He seemed surprised. "Not perfectly, but reasonably. Can't expect perfect happiness twice."
The remark bewildered her. "Twice? When was the first?"
"Maybe ten years ago when we were still building our practices and the kids were just starting school. I… I thought we were the perfect team, you and I, and the possibilities seemed limitless. I'd never been that happy before in my life. I'd never dreamed I could be that happy. And you were part of that, Kate. You made it possible. So don't ever say I'd have been better off without you."
Kate felt tears running down her cheeks. She couldn't speak.
Please don't ask if I've ever been that happy, she thought, because I don't think I've ever been truly, truly happy with my life.
Snatches of happiness with the children, the hope of it with Jean-ette, but true happiness had always remained just around the corner, just over the next hill.
Finally she found her voice, and it sounded ragged. "You're a good man, Ron. A good father and a better husband than I was a wife. Don't ever forget that."
"I really don't like the sound of this Kate. You're…" He lowered his voice even further. "You sound depressed. You're not thinking of doing anything rash, are you?"
She had to end this conversation. Quickly. Before she broke down.
"Ron," she said in a disapproving tone, "after all these years, don't you know me better than that? It's just that I've never been away from the kids this long and what's happening up here makes you confront the idea of death, and I got to thinking, what if something happened to me on the way home? We never seem to take the time to tell the people we love how much they mean to us, and so I just wanted them to know how important they are to me, and how I'm sorry that I hurt you. That's all, okay? I'll be coming home soon. Oh, someone's at the door. Got to go now. Bye."
Kate thumbed the OFF button and knelt there on the floor, staring at the phone as she fought back another attack of tears. Lord, she didn't want to do this, but there was no other way. For Kevin, for Lizzie, and yes, for herself, she had to go through with it.
She froze her emotions as she picked up the alarm clock. Its two detonator caps dangled on their crudely anastomosed wires against her thighs as she set the timer for 10 P.M. The time was a guess, but an educated one. She'd gleaned enough from the Unity to know that its new meeting place was not close by, and that the mutation to an airborne strain would not be a few minutes' work. She assumed—prayed—she'd be in their midst by then.
She carefully reinserted the detonators into the holes they'd previously occupied, then emptied her shoulder bag and gently settled the assembly into its bottom. A dishcloth from the sink covered the bomb, then the rest of her stuff went back in on top.
She found a pen and a small pad and wrote Jack a quick note explaining the pending mutation and how she planned to stop it. She wasn't sure where she was going but if he could follow her and get there in time—before ten o'clock—maybe he could find another solution, one that would leave her alive to see Kevin and Lizzie grow up and eventually make her a mother-in-law, and a grandmother…
But at the moment this was the only way.
Now… where to leave the note? She didn't want it where the Unity could see it when it took over—that would abort her whole plan. She looked around and her gaze settled on the microwave, still on the floor.
Of course.
Kate lifted it back onto the counter, then slipped the shoulder bag strap over her head so it ran across her chest. She didn't want it to slip off.
She was ready.
Then she spotted Jack's little pistol. Might as well take that too. If it related to death and destruction she wanted it handy. She jammed it into the front pocket of her slacks.
Now the hardest part: turning off the microwave. Simply opening the door would do that, and it would give her a place to hide the note to Jack. The Unity would never look in there, but Jack would see the open door… at least she hoped he would.
With the letter in her right hand, she reached her left toward the oven door latch but her hand didn't want to go. It seemed to know the consequences. She forced it forward—just the opposite of fighting the Unity—and let her fingertips rest against the latch.
Isn't there another way? her mind screamed. There's got to be some alternative to this!
No. There isn't.
Kate pulled on the latch. As the door popped open and the microwave generator cycled down, she shoved the letter inside…
… and almost immediately the sound, the touch, the presence of the Unity floods in.
Kate! You're back! And you're alone! That means you're going to stay with us! This is wonderful, Kate. We've missed you so.