Suddenly (41 page)

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.

He couldn’t wait to tell Paige.

P
AIGE WASN’T IMMEDIATELY CONCERNED WHEN
she didn’t see Nonny’s car. Nonny often ran errands with Sami, and though she was usually home before dark, it was dark so early now that the usual changed.

Her concern came when she went into the kitchen and didn’t find a note.

Nonny always left notes when she went out.

Paige looked all over, but she didn’t see one. Telling herself that it was simply an oversight on Nonny’s part, she went into the bedroom to change into jeans.

“Where are they?” she asked kitty, who was scampering about in such excitement that Paige wondered how long she had been alone.

If kitty knew, kitty wasn’t telling.

So Paige went back to the kitchen. It was spotless. Aside from the high chair that stood similarly spotless in the corner, it was much as it would have been had Paige lived alone. But she didn’t live alone. She lived with Nonny and Sami, and after the upsetting day she’d had, she had to see them. She had to talk with Nonny. And hold Sami.

She called the General Store, but Hollis Weebly hadn’t seen them. She tried the bakery, with similar luck. She tried her neighbor, Mrs. Corkell, with whom Nonny had struck up a friendship, but Mrs. Corkell hadn’t seen them. She called three of Nonny’s friends in West Winter—Sylvia, Helen, and Elisabeth—but Sylvia hadn’t seen them, and neither Helen nor Elisabeth was at home.

She sat down on the stairs in the front hall, tossing a scrunched-up paper ball to kitty, who retrieved it, dropped it at her feet, then crouched down in avid anticipation.

“Just you and me,” she said, giving the paper another toss and listening for the tiny patter of kitty’s paws on the wood floor. It was indeed a tiny patter, a negligible sound in a dead silent house. Just you and me, she thought, and was infinitely glad just then that she wasn’t alone.

But that thought led to another—to several, actually. She imagined Nonny taking herself and her things back to West Winter and Sami being taken away to God only knew where by strangers. She imagined that the house was as quiet as this every night, just kitty and her, having dinner alone, tossing a paper ball back and forth, night after night after night, because Noah would have moved on, too. And Sara. And Angie, who had taken her risk of the heart and won. And Peter, who might lose his case against Julie but had found himself in spite of it. There would be plenty of people left in Tucker to see, none of whom she wanted to see. Not in the same way.

Year after year after year.

She felt a swift shaft of panic, followed by a hollowness so dense that it threatened to swallow her up. She heard words—
nights in my house are silent—dead—barren
—and thought of Mara, up on the hillside, buried six feet under with hopes and dreams that would never be realized. And suddenly she knew what she wanted.

Or what she didn’t want.

She didn’t want to live in a house that was silent, dead, and barren. She didn’t want to be the victim of missed connections. She didn’t want Sami raised by someone else. She didn’t want Nonny moving back to West Winter. And she didn’t want Noah to leave.

She jumped up from the stairs so quickly that kitty squealed in alarm. Snatching her up, she hurried to the phone and punched out Noah’s number.

He sounded exhausted, and rightfully so. He had the weight of his own world on his shoulders. But she had to see him. “Can you come over? I can’t find Nonny. I’m imagining all kinds of awful things.”

“Give me five minutes,” he said, and five minutes later he pulled into the driveway. He ran to the door with Sara on his heels.

Without saying a word, Paige wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. It was only after several minutes of his returning her hug that she was able to talk. She told of coming home to a dark house, finding no note, and phoning all around. She told of sitting on the stairs for what seemed like hours.

“It was awful, Noah,” she cried from beneath the shelter of his arm. “The house was dead quiet. Just kitty and me. And it used to be just me
alone
—before Mara died—and that was fine. But something’s changed. It isn’t fine anymore.” When he drew her into his arms again, she felt an instant relief. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Me neither,” he whispered.

“I have to grow. I can’t keep holding on to the past.”

“No kidding.”

“But it’s scary.”

“Most good things are.”

Sara cleared her throat. “Am I supposed to be here?”

“Definitely,” Noah said in full voice. “You’re part of it.”

Paige would have reached out for her if she hadn’t been loving Noah’s hold so much. There was something new in it, something permanent that should have terrified her but didn’t.

“Maybe I should go out looking for Nonny,” Sara suggested.

“No. We’ll call Norman Fitch in a—”

“Yooo-hoooo,” came a call from the kitchen. “Anyone home?”

Paige looked up. Swearing softly, she broke away from Noah and, taking Sara in hand, ran toward the kitchen. Nonny was bundled as tightly and brightly as Sami. Neither looked as though there were anything at all wrong.

“Where have you been?” Paige cried. She caught Sami up in one arm and hugged Nonny with the other. “Noah was about to call the police!”

“But I left a note,” Nonny said. “Right there on the table. I said I was going to visit Elisabeth. She’s baby-sitting her grandchildren while their parents are away.”

“There was no note.”

“But I did leave it,” Nonny insisted.

“I was so worried!”

“We weren’t
that
late.”

“But it was dark, and the house was empty and still.” Paige looked Nonny in the eye, suddenly excited. “I’m keeping Sami. For good. Will you stay?”

Nonny’s whole face lit up. “I certainly will. Hallelujah, it’s about time.”

Paige raised a sheepish look to Noah, who was a wall of warmth by her shoulder. “I guess it is.”

Behind his glasses, his eyes were as bright as Nonny’s face.

“Here’s Nonny’s note,” Sara said, coming through the door, unfolding the paper ball that Paige had been tossing to kitty.

Paige gawked. “But it was crumpled up on the floor.”

Sara flattened it on the table. Seconds later kitty was there, trying to paw it off again.

“’Scuse me,” Noah said, taking Sami from Paige and putting her in Sara’s arms. “I have to talk with Paige alone for a minute.”

He had her by the hand and was leading her from the room before she could protest, and once he had her in the front hall, pinned to the wall by the weight of his body, protest was the last thing on her mind. He kissed her with a thoroughness that blurred her thoughts. Having made a bundle of momentous decisions in an incredibly short time, she was feeling relieved of an awesome burden. Which was ironic. Since being burdened was what she had feared most.

“Did you mean all you said?” he asked.

She was distinctly lightheaded. “I believe so.”

“You want me?”

She pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“To marry?”

She nodded.

“What if I have to leave Tucker?”

“I’ve always wanted to see Santa Fe.”

“If things blow up here, Santa Fe might be out of the question, too. I may have to forget teaching.”

“You’ll have to work somewhere. And I can work anywhere.”

“But you love Tucker.”

“I love you more.” The words flowed from the heart and caused a catch in Noah’s breath. He gave her more of his weight. She loved that, too. “Do you remember our first night?” she asked.

“In Mara’s yard?”

“I was feeling totally empty. And then you came out and held me, and the emptiness went. Only I’m just now realizing it. Thick-headed of me, huh?”

“We’re all thick-headed when it comes to protecting long-held beliefs. I’ve done the same. In the process I nearly lost my daughter.” He dragged in a long, deep, not-wholly-happy breath. “We have something good at Mount Court, Sara and I. Given the choice, I’d take Tucker over Santa Fe, that’s how far I’ve come, but if things blow up, I may not have the choice. I’ll be taking the credit for this one, whichever way it goes.”

“Then we’d better make sure it goes the way we want,” Paige said with a determination that she might have thought had gone to the grave with Mara. But Mara lived—in Peter and Kate Ann, in Angie and Ben, and now in Paige. It was an incredibly good feeling. An incredibly satisfying feeling. An incredibly
empowering
feeling.

“What?” Noah prompted.

But Paige caught sight of Sara at the kitchen door, looking unsure and alone. She held out an arm and waited for her to join them before saying, “Your dad just made the ultimate confession that even if he had other choices, his first one would be to stay on at Mount Court. What do you think?”

Sara shrugged. “Mount Court’s okay.”

“’Okay’ isn’t good enough. We need enthusiasm.”

“I
like
it,” she said.

“Then you want to stay, too?”

“Yes.”

Paige could tell by the smile she was trying to check that she meant it, and she gave a satisfied sigh. “All that’s left, then, is to find out who fathered Julie Engel’s baby.” She looked up at Noah. “How do we do that?”

“Small groups,” he said. “The last of the classes are being held before exams. I think I’ll visit a few.”

“You’ll turn everyone against Julie,” Sara cried.

“No. I’ll say that she’s trying to protect someone, but that we need to know who that someone is. I won’t be criticizing Julie.”

“They’ll think you are. They won’t talk.”

“Do you think they know who it is?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do
you
know who it is?”

“You’re asking me to betray my friends.”

“No. I’m asking if you know who it is.”

“Same difference,” Sara said. She broke away and returned to the kitchen.

Noah sighed. He looked at Paige. “She’s right, isn’t she.”

Paige ached for them both. “She’s in an untenable position, between you and her friends.”

“I wouldn’t put her there, if I didn’t feel so desperate. To come so close, so close to having it all…” His voice trailed off. He drew Paige against him, the one in need of comfort now, and Paige gave him her all. It was an honor and a breeze, the farthest thing from a burden that she had ever done in her life.

Noah knew the code of silence kept by students such as those at Mount Court and knew the misery a child could endure if her classmates thought that she had broken it. That was why he concentrated on talking with juniors and seniors rather than sophomores.

He had worked hard building a relationship with Sara. It was young and fragile. He didn’t want anything to shatter it.

No one came forward. One day passed, then another and another, and the charges against Peter Grace and Mount Court, though never formalized in any legal way, seemed to gain legitimacy simply because they weren’t proven false. Word spread through town. There was a rash of canceled appointments.

Noah talked with the students again. Paige followed up on his talks. They explained what was happening to Peter and what could happen to Mount Court if false charges prevailed. They pushed for the truth, but no matter how often Noah assured the students that they could come to him in confidence, no one came.

Worried parents called. Concerned trustees called. The faculty began murmuring among themselves much as they had at the start of the year. Worst of all, in Noah’s book, a distance sprang up between Sara and him.

“She’s withdrawing again,” he told Paige. “It’s happening right before my eyes, and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it. When I ask, she says nothing’s wrong. But she avoids me.”

“Let me talk with her,” Paige said, and she did, but with negligible success. “She says she’s nervous about exams.”

“Do you believe her?”

“She asked me the same thing. I told her I did, that exam period was always a tense time, especially for the first set of finals at a new school. She bought that. Then I asked if the Julie business might be getting her down, too, and she said no. Too quickly.”

“What do you think?”

“I think that the kids are talking. Something’s up. I’ve gotten the same feeling from some of the others I’ve spoken with. They know something, Noah.”

The problem was getting it out of them. He wanted it done before Christmas, but with classes ending and exams beginning, he couldn’t very well keep up the pressure. Their minds would be turning to studying.

Or so he thought. On the night after the last day of classes, prior to a day set aside solely for studying, he got a call from the MacKenzie dorm parent. “We’re having a problem here, Noah,” she said. “I think you ought to come over.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Arguments. I’m hearing Julie Engel’s name, but not much else.”

Julie was temporarily out of the picture. Her father had decided to keep her in New York through Christmas. If she had made a decision about the baby, no one knew what it was. Nor did anyone know if she would return to Tucker.

“I’ll be right there,” Noah said. After phoning Paige with the news, he grabbed his parka and ran through the snow-crusted darkness to MacKenzie.

The group in the lounge was sexually mixed, talking loudly, and oblivious of his arrival. They were sitting in a jumble, squeezed together on chairs, each other’s laps, and the floor, as if in a show of solidarity. At first glance he saw sophomores, juniors, and seniors. At second glance he saw Sara. She was standing alone, with her arms wrapped around herself, and looked as though she had been crying. It was all he could do not to rush to her side.

“But that’s not our job,” one of the girls was arguing. “It’s the cops’ job.”

“The whole point is to learn the truth
before
they have to come in,” Sara cried. “No one wants them involved.”

“Certainly not the Board of Trustees,” came the counterargument, “and certainly not your father. He’d probably be happy if Julie stays in New York forever, like she was never a student here. But she’s been here longer than he has, and longer than you have, Sara. You don’t have any right to blab. It’s none of your business.”