BettyAnn was hysterical, begging for him not to go after their daughter. /Take it out on me!/ she screamed. God, he hated when she got like that, so protective, like he was some kind of monster, like he'd ever hurt his daughter. He was a good man! A damn good father! And that little cat-eyed bitch had been ungrateful from the day she was born, because she didn't know the truth. /She just didn't know./ Virgil let his head fall into his hands. He reached blindly for the tumbler of vodka he'd left on the worktable, brought it down to his lips, and sucked down half of it. BettyAnn had made it out of surgery just fine, and the scars around her eyes eventually healed up so they were hardly noticeable, especially if she wore that special mail-order makeup. But as ridiculous as it sounded now, he'd actually ended up spending three nights in jail, where he'd been forced to endure a visit from the King of Persuasion himself. Aidan Bohland had put his finger in Virgil's face and told him that if he ever touched BettyAnn again, he would lose everythinghis tenure, his home, his reputation. Virgil hated that holier-than-thou bastard. What did he know about keeping a wife in line? Nothing, obviouslyEliza Bohland was known for making a complete fool of herself when she'd had a little too much to drink, which was daily.
Then Big Dopey Bohland had the balls to inform Virgil that Katharine was a special young lady who deserved more attention from her father. Virgil had laughed because it was just so damn ironic, and told Bohland to fuck himself.
Virgil got out of jail on a Saturday. With BettyAnn in the hospital and then laid up at homeand with all the legal rigmarole that had gone into getting the charges against him droppedit was a good two weeks before they reported their daughter officially missing.
And now, twenty years later, she finally found her way back to Persuasion, unashamed of the fact that she couldn't keep her legs together any better than her mother could. Just today, Rita told him that Katharine had rented a house off-campus and that some expensive furniture and whatnots had already been delivered.
Virgil stared at the pretty clay face frozen in time and felt the old craving course through him. It surprised him how strong it was, considering the lid had been on it for twenty years. It was the vodka.
The vodka always triggered his urges. And his urge for Katharine had always been the strongest.
He drank what was left in the glass, feeling the heat lollygag through his bloodstream. He allowed himself to remember how it used to be. Oh, how he'd enjoyed the act of hitting BettyAnn. It was a sweet, sweet agony. A taboo rapture. And it was the only way he'd ever found to dampen the flames, since it wouldn't be right to touch Katharine the way he longed to.
He looked down at his pants and laughed. By God, he was getting peckerwood! He didn't even think that was possible anymore, what with all the medicine he was taking.
Suddenly, he was certain she was spying on him again. His eyes shot to the window, but there was nothingno blond curls, no cat eyes. Then he realized it was the bust on the worktable that was mocking him.
Virgil raised his tumbler, found it empty, and threw it against the wall. BettyAnn had betrayed him. She'd always known Kat left here pregnant with Bohland's child. That was BettyAnn's big secret the day she died. Virgil had spent the last few days systematically ripping the house to shreds in search for what else that ungrateful bitch might have kept from him. He found nothing.
Virgil cried. A man needed to know he controlled some part of his life, and Virgil's life's greatest pleasure had always been the absolute knowledge that he controlled dumb little BettyAnn absolutely. But she'd been fooling him all along. Underneath it all, she was a lying slut, just like all the rest.
Virgil studied the unfinished bust through his tears, circling around the table, looking from every angle. Something about the way the image danced and distorted in the teardrops made him smile. Then he began to laugh. It was incredible! A miracle!
In the eleventh hour of life, he'd finally found the inspiration for his masterpiece.
Kat stepped out into the crisp morning with a smile on her face and determination in her heart. Today was going to be all about schoolwhen she'd finished the registration process at Mountain Laurel she planned to pay a little visit to Principal Cavanaugh.
Kat chugged up the hill to campus, struck by the charm of its Gothic limestone spires, its ornate wrought-iron front gate, and its tidy fall landscape. It looked magical to her that morning, and welcoming.
Things went smoothly in the admissions office. She picked up a class schedule and orientation package, and though Kat was told it would be several weeks before all her transcripts were transferred, it would leave her plenty of time before winter quarter began in January.
While there, Kat ran into no fewer than five women she'd known in school. She chatted briefly with each of them, giving each enough to satisfy her appetite for gossip. They all wanted to know where she'd been and if she'd come back for Riley Bohland, and she gave them the basics, adding that she was looking forward to catching up with old friends, including Riley. She knew every word of it would be all over town by supper time.
As Kat wandered the campus, it became painfully obvious that everyone there was Aidan's age. Her heart suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, a big, thousand-pound stone of loneliness for her son.
It was almost comic now. Every morning she would call Aidan and talk to his voice mail. He never answered and he never called back. As Kat strolled down the hill toward town, she decided it was time for her daily exercise in futility.
She got Aidan's voice mail, of course, and had readied herself to leave another message about Thanksgiving dinner at her house when she heard a real, live voice.
Hey, Mom.
Kat froze. She looked around for a place to sit and chose a small stone planter in front of a hair salon, where she managed to prop herself.
Sweetheart, she said. Are you all right?
Look, Mom, I just need some time. I've been doing a lot of thinking. I'm fine, but I need some space.
Kat nodded in silence, realizing that she'd asked Riley for the exact same thing, for the exact same reasonforgiveness is a process, not something you can pick up at the drive-thru. She dared not say another word. She didn't want Aidan to know she was crying.
I know you're crying, Mom. Don't try to hide it. It's time to stop hiding shit from me, OK?
I know. I know. She sniffed. I miss you so much!
Well, I miss you, too. Look, I'm late for class. We'll catch up later.
All right, Aidan.
Hey, Mom?
Yes? Her heart began to pound with anticipation.
I'm bringing Rachel up over break. Dad said that would be OK, so if I decide to accept your dinner invitation, she'll be coming along.
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.