Where are they, Kat? Cliff asked in a calm voice.
On the attic stairs. But you're not answering me! Tears began to well in her eyes. Why aren't you answering me? What's going on?
Cliff looked pained. What did you find in the boxes you did open?
Kat had a feeling her hard-won peace was about to be blown to hell.
Books, an old coat, a charm bracelet, art projects.
Cliff frowned. But there was a box you never opened at all?
Kat swallowed hard, nodding.
Cliff said to Aidan, Do you think you could go find that one and bring it on down here?
Aidan's mouth was pulled tight and he flashed his eyes at Kat in disappointment. I thought you said there weren't any more secrets, Mom.
There aren't! she yelled.
Well, that's not entirely true, Cliff said. How about you go get that box, son?
Aidan left the table. Nola stared at Kat with giant eyes. Matt buttered a roll. Rachel sat straight and stayed quiet. Barbara looked sad. Jeff and Richard were huddled together, whispering. The kids looked bored.
Riley put his hand on Kat's shoulder in a protective gesture. I think you better explain what this is all about, Cliff, he said.
Cliff nodded, the seriousness etched in his kind face. Everything she needs to know is inside that box.
Virgil staggered around the kitchen, the lack of sleep and the physical demands of the last few weeks finally catching up with him. He found a box of saltines in the cabinet and ate a few. There was a vanilla pudding cup on the shelf, so he ate that, too, but had to use a dirty spoon because Rita hadn't been over to clean in ages. Then he poured himself a jigger of vodka and slugged it.
He knew where he was headed next, and it pained him. It really did. He'd hoped that that working on the sculpture would soothe the urge. It hadn't. His body was dying, but the urge was alive, and it swirled through him, driving him on, making him suffer. He remembered how it would go, back in the day, how, when he'd feel this unholy desire for Katharine, he'd just take it out on BettyAnn. It was always pure relief, damn near rapture, and when he was done, the world was back in balance and the fire would mellow to a glow.
But Kat had come back to rub his face in it. She knew what she was doing. She knew how parading in front of him had always tortured him.
The time had come. He had no choice but to extinguish the source of his misery, once and for all.
He walked out to the studio, noticing with a kind of removed curiosity that his feet were scraping the ground, that he couldn't lift them up and place them down the normal way. Just another sign that the end was near, he supposed.
He put his hand in the bottom drawer of the worktable, reached beneath a stack of worthless sketches, and got the handgun. Sad to say, but the day he'd bought this gun over at the pawnshop in Bowden, he'd been a vital man, still handsome, still able to get the ladies when the need arose. Now, he was just an old man, sick, and so very tired of all of it.
Virgil stuck the gun in his pants pocket and set out for Laurel Lane. At this pace, it was going to take a while.
EIGHTEEN
By the time Aidan made it downstairs with the box, everyone except Matt had relocated to the living room. Matt was still eating.
Aidan put the carton in the middle of the floor and Kat moved closer. It was then that she noticed something for the first timethere was writing on the side of this box, in blue ink that had faded almost to he point of it being unreadable. She leaned in closely. /Open this box first/ was what it said.
Great. Kat crumpled to the rug. She was afraid. When she looked up, she saw everyone staring down at her with a combination of curiosity and pity.
Put down your fork and get out here, Matt! Nola called. This is a family thing we've got going here!
Still chewing, Matt sauntered up to the crowd.
You might want to make sure it's not ticking, he advised.
Give me your pocketknife, Riley said, not amused in the slightest with his brother. Riley then bent down and sliced the box open. We're all here, Kat. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together. He kissed the top of her head.
Thank you. Kat's eyes darted to Cliff.
It's all going to be fine. You'll see, he said.
Madeline had denied Carrie's request to take a quick trip through the buffet. Of all the nerve! Cherry Hill was the only restaurant serving food today, and Madeline knew ityet she'd kicked Carrie out! That meant a stop at the McDonald's in Elkins on the way out of town, and she hated to throw up in public restrooms unless she absolutely had no choice.
She began to walk toward her car. The afternoon was bright and cheery.
She smelled food coming from /everywhere/ and her thoughts turned to that creamy, thick key lime pie filling, just the right combination of tart and sweet. She hated Madeline, but the woman sure could cook.
Out of nowhere, a blast of cold collided with Carrie's body, and she was chilled to the bone. /Probably from starvation/, she told herself. She pulled her coat tight. Then ever so slowly, her skin began to crawl, and something told her to be on alert.
I knew you'd come back to me.
The voice came from her right. She whipped her head around and froze.
The ghost of Virgil Cavanaugh lay in a pile of brown leaves in someone's yard. It glared at her through sickly pink-rimmed eyes, and an otherworldly smile was pasted on its face. Then it coughed. But ghosts didn't cough, did they?
Carrie's pulse tripped. This was exactly why she'd opted for a job in health-care policy instead of clinical work. Clinical work required her to touch everyone who came to her for help, no matter how frightening or dirty or wretched they were. Her mind spasmedshe'd taken the Hippocratic oath as a physician and this was a human being who needed her help, but, honestly, she wanted to bolt.
For a long moment, she stared at him.
Did you come to sit for me, darling? he asked.
I am going to call an ambulance, she said, getting out her cell phone.
Wait! Virgil tried to push himself up to a stand. Carrie waited to make sure he didn't fall, and was grateful that he'd managed on his own. I was just catching my breath. I'm going in right there. Virgil pointed a shaky finger toward the house behind him, a beautiful two-story bungalow that Carrie had often admired in her visits to Persuasion.
I've been invited to dinner in there. Would you mind helping me up the sidewalk?
A white envelope sat on top of what looked like a stack of photo albums. /For My Darling Daughter/ was written in shaky handwriting in the same blue ink. Kat picked it up, a million questions fighting to get attention in her head, the first one being, This is for me? She'd said it out loud.
It is, Cliff said.
How do you know my mother? Kat asked, and somewhere in the bottom of her gut, she knew the answer.
Look through everything. All your questions will be answered.
Kat picked up the first photo album and cracked open the plastic cover.
This couldn't be. The first page was filled with photos of Aidan as a baby. In fact, she recognized many of them. Either she or Phyllis had taken them. Kat was shocked and looked up to Aidan with a sense of helplessness.
What in the hell is going on? Aidan asked. He dropped to his knees next to Kat and she grabbed his leg.
Look through this one. She handed it to Aidan and picked up the nextAidan's kindergarten graduation, Kat in a sun hat in the backyard helping Phyllis with the roses, several Ocean City vacations…
She knew about me, Aidan said, whipping through the album in his hand.
Phyllis must have sent these to her.
Kat thought she would faint. She picked up the last album and started with the final page, crammed with photos of Aidan's lacrosse matches.
Kat began to sob. I don't understand, she wailed, looking up to Cliff.