No reason, really, she said with a shake of her head.
Come on. Why aren't you in a relationship right this second? I would imagine you spend most of your time sorting through offers from men.
Kat tried to avoid eye contact, but Riley used a finger to tilt up her chin. She had no choice but to look at him. Tell me, Kat.
She shrugged. It's not a big mystery. I just had a hard time finding anyone I wanted to share my life with.
Why?
I guess because I kept looking for… well, /you/, Riley. I kept looking for someone like Riley Bohland, and I never found him.
He let out a gentle laugh. But you knew exactly where to find the real thing.
Kat laughed, too. I mean I never found him in /Baltimore/, and there was no way in hell I was going back to Persuasion until I could show everyone I had made it without them.
Suddenly, the timing of Kat's return made sense to Riley. He pulled back a few inches so he could study her. You mean you didn't want to come back until you had a ton of money? Aidan told me all about Phyllis' estate.
It wasn't about money, Kat snapped, pulling away a bit more. I wanted to be strong when I went back to Persuasion. Strong and beautiful and totally together. I dreamed of the day I'd get to rub all your faces in my sheer /awesomeness/.
Ahh.
But then Phyllis died and left me millions, and I figured, hey, I'll just get a makeover and fake the rest.
Riley laughed. You're not faking a damn thing.
Ha! Kat gave him a shy smile, then stepped out of his arms. She reached behind her to grab the down comforter and wrapped it tight around herself before she sat cross-legged on the bed.
Riley joined her. Once he got comfortable, he fished around inside the comforter until he found her small hand, which he kissed, then cradled in his own. You really are all those things, you know.
I will admit that there are times when I've been strong, together, or beautiful, but just not all at the same time, and that's what I wanted the day I went back to Persuasion.
Give me this. Riley grabbed the comforter and pulled it away from her body, then swung her around so she was situated with her back against his chest, skin on skin. He wrapped the down blanket around them both and her small, warm body felt solid against him.
Let me tell you a story about a girl I used to know, he said, talking softly in her ear. She was always strong and together. She survived a childhood where her father would beat her mother, yet she had the presence of mind to nurse her mother back to health every time. She volunteered to read a poem at my mother's funeral, and she got up there in front of hundreds of people with steady hands and a calm voice.
She gasped. I'd forgotten all about that.
This girl was very smart, too. I always loved her take on things, whether it was music or school subjects or just normal everyday stuff.
Her observations about people were funny and insightful. And sweetmy God, was she ever sweet.
Do I know this person?
Riley kissed the top of her head. She was you. She /is/ you, Kat.
She said nothing.
After you disappeared, I used to imagine what it would be like if you were still at Underwood High. I'd picture you playing second base on the girls' softball team and getting on the honor roll every semester.
Kat whipped her head around in disbelief. You remember what position I played?
Sure I do. I also used to imagine the dress you'd wear to homecoming with me, and how you'd be named?Girl Most Likely to Succeed' in the /Overview/ our senior year.
Kat snorted and leaned back into his chest.?Girl Most Likely to Get Pregnant Before She Earns Her Learner's Permit' is more like it.
I don't think that was an actual category.
Or how about?Girl Most Likely to Live with Parakeets'?
Also not an option, he said, burying his smile in her silky hair. ?Girl Most Likely to Fuck Up Her Son's Life by Lying to Him from the Day He Was Born'?
Sssshhh, Riley said.
They sat quietly for many minutes. Their breath eventually fell into the same rhythm. Riley held her, rocked her, and kissed the side of her neck.
The phone rang.
Don't get it, Riley said. Please. Stay here with me.
What if it's Aidan?
Then you can call him back.
They listened as the answering machine clicked on and a woman immediately launched into a squeaky tirade.
Kat! Kat! You're not going to freakin' believe this!
It's Nola, Kat reassured Riley.
The younger Bohunk brother is in town and he just asked me out! Should I go? Should I? Would you mind? I mean, I know Riley is an engaged asshole, but Matt seems decent.
Riley laughed to himself in surprise. /Did she just say Bohunk?/ Nola continued. What am I saying? Of course I'm going to goI already said yes. He's picking me up in fifteen minutes. What should I wear? And where are you? I thought you were just going to stay home and sulk today. Well, gotta go. I'll tell you everyth /Beep/.
Wow, Riley said.
Kat began to squirm in his arms and he loosened the comforter so she could turn around. Once she threw her legs over his and got comfortable, Riley wrapped her tight again and smiled down at her.
Yes, Kat answered before he could ask. That's what Nola calls you.
I like it.
Kat slowly shook her head. She's gonna eat Matt alive.
Oh, I think Matt can handle her.
One of Kat's eyebrows shot up. You don't understand. Matt's just a small-town boy, and Nola'swell, Nola's been around the block so many times she's worn a groove in the sidewalk.
Like I said, he can handle it.
That remains to be seen.
A deep wave of comfort and ease flooded Riley. It was the combination of Kat's husky voice, her warm skin against his, the way their minds clicked. He kissed her softly on the lips.
Have you noticed what we're doing, Riley?
Uhm… He paused. Is this a trick question?
Kat laughed. I just thought I'd point out that we raced in here to the bedroom, ripped each other's clothes off like wild animals in heat, and what did we end up doing?
Riley smiled. Talking.
She nodded. Talking and snuggling.
Kat was right. So what do you think that means?
She bit her lip and gave it some thought. I believe it means we've done things backward. It means we have a lot to hash out between us, a lot to understand about each other, and a lot to forgive before another night like Cherry Hill.
Riley studied her face, beautiful, strong, and together all at the same time. He laughed softly. I have to say, as much as I'd like to have a Cherry Hill moment right here, right now, you're absolutely right.
Kat's eyes sparkled with pleasure. I'm glad you agree, because I don't ever want to be left alone in the morning like that again, not knowing where things stand with us or what you're thinking or feeling, just sitting there holding one of your socks, not sure if I'm a complete moron or the luckiest girl on earth.
Riley let go with a raucous laugh and began to wrestle with her. So you stole my sock! he shouted. Admit it, woman! Admit it, I say!
They rolled around on the bed, laughing and kissing, until they rolled right off the edge and landed with a loud thud on the wood floor. They laughed even harder.
Riley suddenly cocked his head in alarm. He heard a loud banging sound that sounded like it was coming from the ceiling above them.
What the hell is that? he asked. Riley rolled Kat to the side to protect her. Do you hear it? The thumping started again.
That's Mrs. Brownstein, Kat said, sputtering out a laugh. She's just jealous.
Riley nodded. Looks like now would be a good time to get a place with a little more privacy.
Did I tell you I'm fixing up Phyllis' old row house? Kat pushed herself up from the floor and offered her hand to Riley, the blanket draped over her shoulders like a queen's floor-length cape. It will be a few more month
s until it's ready, she said, pulling him to a stand.
Then come back to Persuasion.
The words had burst out of Riley's mouth before he even knew they'd formed in his brain, and the idea filled him with excited energy. Come home, Kat. Aidan can visit whenever he likes. Come back and stay for a while; see how it feels to have me in your life, rub my face in your awesomeness, get to know me all over again. Would you do it?
Kat stared at him wide-eyed.
I promise to give you all the time and space you need. But I'd be right there in town. We could see each other every once in a while. Have dinner. Hang out. No more Cherry Hills until we're both sure it's right.
She shook her head and took a step back. I don't know.
Why not? Is it Virgil?
Kat hissed. That old fart doesn't scare me anymore. In fact, one day I have every intention of marching right up to him and telling him everything I remember about my childhood, what he did to my mom and me, how we didn't deserve any of it. It might be therapeutic.
Riley dared to take this further. You could register for classes at Mountain Laurel if you felt like it.
Kat's eyes flashed.
We could get to know each other like real adult people in a real adult relationship.
A smile slowly spread over Kat's lips. I'd want my own little place.
There's always houses to rent near campus.
Kat walked back toward Riley with a regal gait, swinging her cape along the side of her nude flesh, all glorious, round, and firm /femaleness/.
It was a vision he'd never forget.
She popped up on her tiptoes and locked her gaze on his.
I am willing to try if you are, she said. But you have to promise me a couple things.
You name it.
I want honesty.
You got it.
I want you to swear that if and when you want to break up with me, you'll find a better way to do it than the last time.
The knife went right into Riley's heart. I swear. And will you promise me something?
Sure.
Don't run away again, like you did twenty years ago and then again two weeks ago, because I'm man enough to admit that it scares the hell out of me to love a woman who has a habit of disappearing on me.
Kat plopped down on the balls of her feet, suddenly serious. I thought you were engaged.
I realize that. But humor me.
Sure. I promise I won't run away again.
And promise me you'll tell me should you ever again be pregnant with my child.
A sly little smile played on Kat's lips. She snaked her arm around the back of Riley's head and slid her fingers through his hair, pulling him down until his mouth was on hers. Kat kissed him hard and long.
It was a seal. It was a start.
TWELVE
Virgil rubbed his chin and frowned. You sure look familiar for some reason.
You recognize me from television, no doubt. Carrie smoothed her hair, waiting for it to dawn on him.
Virgil busted out with a hoot of laughter. That's it! You're that self-righteous she-devil who gets on TV and tells people to eat right, exercise, and avoid smoking.
Carrie beamed. That would be me.
All right then, Virgil said, apparently satisfied. Now what the hell did you want?
Carrie was intrigued by her surroundingsand thrown a bit off-balance by the wiry, annoyed man who clearly ruled this strange kingdom. She stood next to Mr. Cavanaugh in a standard 1950s one-car garage that served as his studio. The walls were unfinished wood plank; the ceiling was bare wood beams with shelves built into the eaves. She could see where the garage door had been closed up many years before, the wood there a different grain and color, and how most of the entire back wall had been fitted with a picture window to let in the natural light. But it was twilight now, and the area seemed closed in. The shadows were stark.
Ghostly shapes of what looked like unfinished sculptures seemed to sprout out of the concrete floor, surrounded by shapeless hunks of rock not yet touched by the artist.
Sharp tools similar to surgical instruments were scattered haphazardly on top of sketchbooks, tables, and the floor, along with heavy mallets and drill bits. Wooden stands had been tipped over on their sides, and a strange, thin stainless-steel contraption sat near the center of the room, arms askew. She took a step back. It reminded her of a huge praying mantis.
She shuddered.
Mr. Cavanaugh chuckled. It's a pointing machine, honey. It's not going to bite you.
A what?
It measures points three-dimensionally on a sculpture.
Stepping with caution, Carrie moved toward a plywood table and placed her business card on the edge, then reached above for the light fixture chain and pulled it. The sudden brightness didn't cheer the roomit only illuminated the mess.
I didn't say you could turn on a light.
She refused to acknowledge Mr. Cavanaugh's rudeness. No one spoke to her like this. She would not allow it under any circumstances. She was a physician. She was beautiful. She was entrusted with developing policy that impacted thousands of lives. Carrie turned to face him. I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with your work. What kind of sculpture do you do, Mr. Cavanaugh?
He grunted. Whatever the hell I feel like doing. I'll ask you one more time: What do you want? Why did you mention my daughter?
Ah. Well. Carrie looked for somewhere to sit. There was nowhere, except for a rusty, clay-splattered metal stool that he obviously used when he worked, and it looked as uncomfortable as this whole place felt. She folded her hands in front of her body and tried to smile politely. It's about Kat and Riley Bohland.
The old man stared at her without breathing. Slowly, his lips curled into a grimace and he shook his head. Whatever you're fishing for, you won't find it here. I don't talk to Kat. Haven't in twenty years.
That surprised Carrie. I didn't realize the two of you were estranged.
Mr. Cavanaugh chuckled. That's a fancy word for it. He offered her a sarcastic smile. Now what do you want?
I want to know about her connection to Riley.
He waved his hand. I go to Bohland because he's the only doctor in this town. Trust me, it's not because I'm a friend of the family. I never liked any of those idiots.
I see. Now she was getting somewhere.
But your visit has nothing to do with my health, does it?
No.
Mr. Cavanaugh nodded. He studied her as she studied him. Carrie took in the details of that sinewy body and hard face. Though he seemed surprisingly agile for a man who'd just had angioplasty, Carrie was struck at how his face had suffered from aging, the bones sharp under papery, blotchy skin.
She knew Mr. Cavanaugh was sixty-two, but he looked eighty, and the bitterness in him was probably responsible, along with his blood alcohol level. Carrie decided the guy was a walking, talking advertisement for the mean son of a bitch everyone said he was, and he seemed proud of it.
Suddenly, Virgil Cavanaugh shifted his cold eyes from Carrie's face to the rest of her. She shivered as his gaze roamed all over her, from her sling-back pumps, to the hemline of her skirt, to the delicate teardrop diamond pendant she always wore at her throat. She'd had the necklace made from the diamond engagement ring Riley had given her, which she rightly refused to give back. She did not appreciate the old man's gawking, and raised her fingers to touch the necklace, calming herself in the process.
I need to know how to keep Kat away from Riley, she said. Any suggestions?
I suggest you take off your clothes and sit for me.
Carrie felt her eyes bug out. /What did you just say?/ You're going to model for me. I'm going to sculpt you. I've worked with my share of stuck-up brunettes over the years, and I need a new muse.
Carrie snorted in disgust. I so doubt that, Mr. Cavanaugh.
He shrugged. Your call, darlin'. He turned toward the door that led to the side yard and talked with his back to her. Forgive me if I don't walk you to your ca
r. It's been so long since I've had a visitor that it seems I've lost my manners.
Carrie's mouth fell open at the offensiveness of this wretched man. Who did he think he was? She tried to remember why she'd even thought it would be a good idea to come here and talk with him.
Kat Cavanaughthat's why she was here. And she'd been correct to think that Virgil Cavanaugh was just the person to show her how to get Kat where it would hurt the most. The man was ruthless.
Pardon my observation, but you really don't give a damn about your daughter, do you, Virgil? It pleased Carrie to see him spin around as if she'd hit him in the back of his head. It's none of my business why you despise your own flesh and blood, but it's convenient, because I don't like her much myself. So maybe we can help each other out.
Virgil stood riveted to the concrete floor, his expression one of tentative interest.
You look surprised, Virgil. Can I call you Virgil?
You can call me Grover Cleveland if you get naked for me.
If you tell me how to keep Kat from Riley, I'll do it. That will be our arrangement.
He let out a boisterous laugh, one so loud that it seemed too big for the bleak, tight space.
My, my, my. What we have here is a regular old love triangle, isn't it?
Is that what all the fuss is about?
It isn't a triangle, Carrie huffed, despising the way he'd just dismissed her dilemma with a soap-opera clichй. Her eyes fell on the praying-mantis thing. What we have is two points on a three-dimensional masterpiece of true lovecomposed of myself and Rileyand your daughter is doing her best to get between us.
Mr. Cavanaugh laughed again, and this time it sounded downright gleeful.
You are a real pointy-headed piece of work. He scrunched up his nose like he smelled something unpleasant. And how do you know Riley, anyway?
You're not from around here.
We met and dated in medical school. We were supposed to get married, but he called it off because of Kat.
A frown crept over Mr. Cavanaugh's brow. He tilted his head. I don't follow.
The girl most likely to… Page 17
