“She never complained to anyone,” Angie pointed out. “She never showed up with bruises.”
He grunted. “She couldn’t very well have told Paige that Paige’s own partner raped her.”
“Sure she could have.”
“She’ll say she couldn’t. She’ll stand there in the DA’s office, wearing the most sedate clothes she can buy, playing the part of the innocent.”
“If no one else ever saw bruises—”
“Don’t need bruises. By definition, rape is sex against a woman’s will. Bruises aren’t required.”
“But they would certainly help her prove her case. If she’s without proof of force, and if tests show that the baby isn’t yours, her case becomes skimpy.”
“You underestimate Julie,” he argued. “So did I, until she came out with this charge. She’s a shrewd little bitch. She’ll say that I raped her while she was involved with someone, and that she honestly thought the baby was mine rather than his. Believe me, she’ll let the rape charge stand. She’s that pissed at me for not being attracted to her.” He snorted. “I should be flattered.”
“Peter,” Angie chided.
He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “She’ll never admit that she lied. She’s stubborn and proud. She’s defiant. And she’s terrified of her father.” He faced them. “It doesn’t look good. It’s only a matter of time before word gets out, and once it does, the practice stands to suffer. Maybe I should resign before that happens.”
Paige, who had been listening to the give and take in muted dread, dropped her fists and said, “No.”
Angie said the same.
“Think about it,” Peter invited on a note of self-mockery. “This may be my one most selfless moment in life. You won’t get a better offer.”
“No.”
“No.”
“And if I’m indicted and our patients go elsewhere?”
“Where will they go?” Angie asked. “We’re the best around.”
“Yeah. The only catch to that line of reasoning is that you’ll be hundreds of miles away in New York.”
“That’s not definite at all.”
“But it is definite that Paige will be here. So what do you say, Paige? You’re the one who stands to lose most.”
“And Cynthia,” Angie pointed out. “She’s an innocent in this mess.”
“You’re all innocent. I’m the bad guy here. Paige? What do you say?”
Paige was trying to concentrate, but it was hard when things like sadness, fear, and regret interfered. Even more distracting were persistent images—of a school in the desert, of Noah, of Nonny and Sami, of Angie in New York, of Mara decaying on the hillside overlooking town.
Mara would have known what to tell Peter. This was the kind of situation in which she came to life. When she believed in a cause, she fought. She had the strength for it. And Paige?
To her horror, her eyes filled with tears. She tried to hide them by examining her fingers. “I, uh”—she cleared her throat—”I don’t think it’s fair that this should happen right now. Damn it, it isn’t.” She took a steadying breath and raised her eyes. “You’ve gotten your act together, Peter. It’s like you found yourself after the accident—with Kate Ann and all—and now you’re fighting Jamie Cox like Mara would have done. And you, too, Angie. You don’t deserve this now. You didn’t turn over and die when things at home got tense. You fought.”
“I took a risk of the heart,” Angie said. “They’re necessary sometimes.”
A risk of the heart. Like Mara’s deep connect.
Paige’s throat started to tighten again. After clearing it, she said, “You won. Things are better at home. Whether or not you move, the choice should be yours. You shouldn’t be forced out because our patients are spooked by a lie.” She looked from one to the other. They had both come a long way since Mara’s death. And she? She was marking time, lacking the courage to act.
“Paige?” Angie queried softly.
Lacking the courage to make decisions. But if she waited, she would lose. She would fail. Like Mara.
“I don’t want any resignations,” she said with abrupt force. “No resignations.”
“Would you rather we talk about this later?”
She brushed at the tears in the corners of her eyes and shook her head. “I have to go home to see Sami.” Her eyes, damp but steady, met Peter’s. “No resignation. We fight.”
Angie arrived home to an empty house, which didn’t make sense, given the hour. Ben was usually home by then. Especially lately.
Along with their agreement to talk things out, they had agreed to try to coordinate their schedules. Angie would tell him when she would be home from work, and he would make an effort to be there when she arrived. It wasn’t quite the spontaneity that they had thrived on in their twenties, but they weren’t in their twenties anymore. They were in their forties. Spontaneity was harder to come by—which didn’t mean that they couldn’t do exciting things, simply that they had to plan more for them.
Ben hadn’t told her of any plans that would keep him away from home this late in the day. She was on the verge of worry when she heard his car in the drive. She was at the back door in time to welcome not only Ben, but Dougie.
“What a treat!” She gave both of them hugs, then studied Dougie, who looked vaguely down at the mouth. “Is everything all right?”
“He heard about Peter,” Ben explained. “I wanted to get him home for a little while so that we could talk about it.”
Angie gave his arm a grateful squeeze. It was the kind of thing she would have done herself, had Ben not accused her of smothering the boy.
She led Dougie to the table and sat him down. “The grapevine works with the speed of light. What is it saying about poor Peter?”
“That he raped Julie. But I don’t believe it, Mom. I know Peter. He isn’t that kind of guy.”
She slipped onto the seat beside him. “Are the kids believing it?”
“Big time. Some of them are getting hyper, and it’s not only the girls. They’re saying he’s a pervert. That he likes kids. That they don’t want him getting near them again. I’ve been telling them that they’re nuts, but they won’t listen. It’s like they love the excitement of this.”
Angie shot a look across the table, to where Ben lounged on a chair. “He’s very perceptive.”
“And disillusioned?” Ben asked.
Angie shared that worry. To Dougie she said, “Don’t be too hard on them. They don’t know Peter like you do. They’re simply reacting against everything that’s in the news these days. But you’re right to argue in Peter’s behalf. He says he’s innocent, and I believe him.”
“But if none of the kids will let him near them, that means he’s out of a job at Mount Court. That’s not fair.”
“No. It’s not. But things may change. All we need is someone coming forward to tell who Julie was really with.”
“Someone fathered the baby she’s carrying,” Ben said. “We need to know who.”
Dougie glanced from one to the other. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know who the guy is. I don’t know Julie Engel at all. I’m just telling you what the kids are saying.”
“Are they only talking about Peter?” Angie asked. “Aren’t they saying anything at all about Julie?”
“My friends don’t know her, either, Mom. She’s a senior.”
“Your mother knows that,” Ben said. “She’s thinking that if you heard gossip about Peter, you might have heard gossip about Julie.”
“No. Just about Peter. I hate it when they call him a pervert. He’s a friend of ours, and he’s your partner. It doesn’t say much about you if you’re practicing with a pervert.”
“Peter is no pervert,” Angie vowed. She thought of the letters Paige had found and the tales they told, and felt that Mara wouldn’t mind at all if she shared one. “He and Mara were in love. Did you know that?”
Dougie’s eyes went wide. “Were they really?”
&nb
sp; Angie nodded.
“Then why didn’t they get married?”
“They weren’t ready to share their feelings with other people, I guess. Maybe they would have in time, if she had lived.”
“She would be furious if she heard the stories the kids at school are spreading!”
“You’re right,” Angie admitted.
“She would be right up there defending him,” Ben put in. “That’s why it’s good that you’re there. You can do it for her.”
“I can’t do much,” Dougie muttered. “I defend him, but everyone jumps all over me.”
“Are you feeling uncomfortable there?”
“All the time? No way. Just when people get going on this.”
Angie was suddenly struck by his voice. It was lower than it had been. She couldn’t see signs of a beard, but that would come. He was growing up. “You really do like boarding, don’t you,” she said.
“It’s neat.”
“What if,” she began, shot a look at Ben, then went on, “What if we didn’t live so close? Would you be as comfortable?”
Dougie grew guarded. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
But Angie regretted having mentioned it. She should have waited until she and Ben had talked it out. She should have let Ben take the lead rather than doing it herself. She had barged in out of habit, assuming that what weighed heavily on her mind weighed as heavily on Ben’s. She was orchestrating again.
She sent Ben a silent apology, but he didn’t seem perturbed. Rather, he picked up the thread of her thought. “She asks because we’ve been thinking that I need to have more to do in a day. I finish my work early and then don’t know what to do with myself. You’re at Mount Court, and your mom is at the office, and I’m bored. So,” he said, taking a breath, “there’s a possibility that we may move closer to the city.”
“What city?” Dougie asked warily.
“New York.”
“But that’s so far away!”
“Then,” Ben went on, sounding perfectly content, “there’s the possibility that we won’t move.” He looked at Angie. “I talked with some folks at Dartmouth earlier today. They liked the idea of my teaching. They liked it a lot.”
Angie brightened. “Did they? That’s great!”
“It’s just in the first stages of talk, but they knew who I was right away. They thought the students would, too. And you were right. I could go the route of either political science or art.”
“Hanover isn’t New York.”
“No. It doesn’t have gridlock.”
“But I thought you wanted to hang around with the guys in the city room.”
“This might be more interesting. Certainly more of a challenge. Assuming it pans out.”
“It will.” She was confident of it. “You’re too good for it not to.”
He gave her a shrug and that tiny twist of his lips that curled her stomach. “At any rate, it seems like the thing to try first, before we pick up and relocate. If it doesn’t work, then we can think of the other, but moving is the most disruptive of the alternatives. Your stakes here in Tucker are pretty high. It isn’t fair to you to rush into anything that involves leaving.”
Angie would have hugged him if they’d been alone. Then she caught herself, realized the foolishness of that thinking, and, rounding the table, circled his neck from behind.
“You have a kind father, Dougie,” she said by Ben’s cheek.
“You have a kind mother,” Ben said, smiling. “She was willing to give it all up here for me.”
Dougie was looking confused. “Are you guys okay?”
“Definitely,” Angie said. “Hey, I have a geat idea. Why don’t we stop over at Peter’s—” She cut herself off. She was orchestrating again. Old habits died hard.
“Why don’t we stop over at Peter’s,” Ben finished, “so that he can personally assure you that he isn’t a pervert, then we’ll catch dinner at the Inn before we drop you back at school. Sound good?”
Peter wasn’t at home. He was at Tucker General, on Three-B with Kate Ann. They were cleaning out the last of three Chinese food containers—with chopsticks, which Kate Ann had never used before but had gotten the knack of with surprising speed.
“You did good,” Peter said with satisfaction.
She blushed. “I was hungry.”
“That’s because they’re working you so hard.” He had the physical therapy department bending over backward for her, and while there wasn’t any response in her legs, the rest of her was learning to compensate. “But it’s good for you, Kate Ann. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I know it.”
“Spoken with resignation.” He touched her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded again, but in the next instant she shook her head. She looked suddenly smaller—Kate Ann had a way of shrinking when she was frightened—and her voice followed suit. “They say I can go home soon.”
“They’re right.”
“But my house isn’t made for a—for a—”
“It needs to be adapted. That’s easy enough to do.”
“But I can’t afford it.”
“We have a good lawyer working on the case.”
“But even if he wins, it won’t be for a while.”
“Right,” Peter said. He cleared away the take-out containers and brushed bits of fried rice from the sheets. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and tried to act casual, as though he had just come up with the idea rather than having mulled it over for days. “I was thinking that I’d adapt my house for it. You could live there.”
Her eyes went wide in horror. “Your house? Oh, no! I couldn’t!”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because it’s your house. You’ve already done too much.”
“Not really. I’ve led a selfish sort of life.”
“You’ve done everything for me.”
“And gotten as much out of it myself. You’ve been an eye opener for me, Kate Ann. You’re the first person I’ve ever really been generous toward.”
“But the children you treat—”
“Their parents pay for my services. They owe me a fee, which is pretty much the way I’ve looked at life since I came back here to practice. People owe me—money, respect, admiration, adoration. I felt it was my due, after everything I went through as a kid. Like it was proof that I was a big, successful guy, even when I didn’t feel like a big, successful guy. But you went through the same shit, and you don’t feel anyone owes you a thing. That’s why it’s so nice to give to you. Besides,” he said, feeling oddly shy as he took her hand, “I like you. You’re a decent, sincere, responsible person.”
“But I mess things up.”
“So you’re not mechanical.”
“I’m not good with people.”
“You’re perfectly good with me. And you were perfectly good with my family on Thanksgiving.”
Her eyes were doe sad. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“You held your own.”
“But that was one day. Living in your house would be every day.”
He had to smile. Kate Ann could be persistent. She could also be thick, though that was a product of years of believing what people said about her. “Why do you think I’ve been coming here every night?”
“Because you’re in the hospital anyway.”
“Wrong. You’re the only one I see here at nights. Just think how much easier it would be if I could go home to see you.”
“But—”
“But what?”
“You’d want that?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t. Actually,” he said, allowing his mind to wander back to the horror of the day, “I may be getting the better part of the deal.” He studied her hand, so fragile in his. “You see, I have a problem.”
In a rush she said, “Don’t apologize I don’t expect anything certainly not any kind of feeling.”
“But I do feel,” he said, and dared to look up. “I like you a lot, Kate Ann.”
“But—but—you don’t want me around all the time. You love Mara.” They had discussed her at length. Peter had told Kate Ann almost everything. Many a night they had talked far after visiting hours were done, which was no sweat on Peter’s part. After all, he was a doctor.
“Loved,” he said now. “Past tense. Mara is dead. She can’t talk to me. She can’t make me smile. She’s gone, Kate Ann, and maybe I’m wrong. Maybe one part of me will always love her, but it’s not the part that’s alive and looking toward the future.”
“But you need to be with people.”
“You are people.”
“Female people.”
“You are female people.”
“You know what I mean,” she murmured, and looked so dejected that he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. Her eyes reflected instant shock.
“That’s for being so nice,” Peter said, and took a deep breath, “and for making me feel good while the rest of my world is about to shatter.” Then he told her about Julie.
“She said that?”
He nodded. “If she stands by it, my reputation is gone.”
“But she can’t say it. I saw her put her arms around you that day.”
“What day?”
“The day you introduced her to me. You were standing over there at the door and she came up from behind and put her arms around you. You removed them and told her not to do it again.”
“You heard that?”
Kate Ann nodded. “Then you brought her in here and suggested that she get me whatever I needed. She wasn’t happy.”
“No,” he said with a sigh of relief. “She wasn’t. You really remember that?”
Kate Ann nodded again.
He smiled. “That is good news, Kate Ann. Good news indeed. A little while ago I told Paige and Angie that the practice could topple if Julie has her way. She claims I want her. It’s her word against mine, with no proof either way. But if you’re willing to testify about what you saw, that’s a start.” He couldn’t stop smiling. Quiet little Kate Ann, mousy little Kate Ann, his Kate Ann to the rescue.
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