BoneMan's Daughters (17 page)

Ryan found the thought unnerving. “Maybe.”

They dropped the subject and talked about college football, a favorite of Father Hortense. He’d suggested taking Ryan to two
different UT games but the thought of traveling to Austin was far too much to consider during those dark days. He’d never
been a big football fan anyway. And those crowds… they were enough to make him shudder.

Today, however, he might take the father up on a similar offer.

And if he just happened to run across Burton Welsh or Celine? Or, God forbid, Bethany?

The thought made his belly churn.

Father Hortense accompanied him up the stairs to his apartment on the second floor. “Let me make the calls and get the paperwork
going.”

He’d waited until this moment to pull the envelope out of his pocket. “Father, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.
I know this is a lot to ask, but—”

“Bethany?”

He held the unmarked envelope out and nodded. “Yes.”

“You know I can’t.”

“The court order, I know. But if you could just, I don’t know, drop it off at her school, get the janitor to slip it into
her locker… anything. This would mean a lot.”

Father Hortense took the hand that held the envelope into both of his own. “Look, I know how badly you want to reach out to
her and explain yourself, and I believe you’ll get that opportunity. But it’s too soon. It would also defy the court’s order.
If Bethany or your ex-wife reports this kind of direct communication from you—”

“It won’t
be
from me!”

“The letter’s from—”

“Picture, not letter.”

Hortense frowned and glanced at the envelope, considering.

Ryan explained while he still had the chance. “It’s just a picture, not a single written word. A picture of Bethany and myself
at her ninth birthday party. There’d be no proof that it came from me.”

“What can you hope in return from her?”

He pressed the envelope into the priest’s hand and lowered his arms. “Just knowing that I’m not out of her mind. It’s my way
of putting this all behind me. If I know that she has something to remember me by, something that she will know came from
me, something that tells her I’m thinking of her… it’s all I can ask.”

“And you’ll put this behind you?”

“I think I can, yes. Seriously, I just need something symbolic like this to… you know, take the next step.”

“Somehow I doubt you’ll be stepping beyond your own daughter.”

“But it makes sense, you have to agree. I need a marker like this, a signpost, anything that tells me I’ve done what I can.”

Father Hortense eyed the white envelope. “I guess I can see that.”

“And I don’t think a picture counts as the court’s understanding of written communication.”

“Okay. I’m actually going to Austin for a meeting this afternoon. I suppose I could swing by Saint Michael’s Academy.”

“Thank you, Father.” He took the man’s hand and shook it aggressively. “Thank you so much. Really, you have no idea what this
means to me.”

Hortense took the envelope and slipped it into his coat pocket. “Okay. See you next week.”

Ryan nodded, feeling positively relieved. “Next week.”

ALVIN FINCH HAD spent the day showering and applying cream and remaining calm in the face of the coming night. The waiting
was always like this before he broke their bones. But this time it was different.

Two years of delayed gratification had quietly built up his need, far beyond his capacity to understand it now that he’d made
his decision. How a human mind could desire anything with such compulsion mystified him. He’d always been aware of his own
superiority to the masses that fed, like sheep, on society’s self-indulgent grasses. Now it seemed that he’d become like his
own victims, though he was able to beat back his raw craving for personal satisfaction.

On the other hand, he was above them all, as their lord and master. He was their Satan, come in sheep’s clothing, walking
among them daily without so much as raising an eyebrow.

This time was also different because this time he had other plans.

At four o’clock Alvin, who was also BoneMan, left his apartment, climbed into the blue Ford F-150 pickup, headed out onto
I-35, and drove south toward Austin.

There was one thing Alvin despised, nay, two he resented more than death itself. Writers and journalists of all stripes, because
they knew far less than their words suggested.

Mini Cooper automobiles, because they looked like ladybugs. He disliked bugs because bugs seemed to be attracted to Noxzema
lotion for the nutrients it provided them, and he hated women, which made ladybugs a pretty nasty combination.

It took Alvin nearly three hours to fight his way through traffic and reach the H-E-B on Highway 71 and Bee Cave Road, but
he’d allowed for any such delay, so although he found the crowded roads to his disliking, he was able to make the trip without
too much frustration.

Once again he tried to rest by lying down on the seat. Once again the wait proved fitful because of his eagerness. Once again
he walked into the store and purchased two lemons, one pack of prepared sushi, and two liters of Mug brand root beer.

It was dark by the time Alvin finally took up his position in the trees near the back of the house, where he dried his sweat
and applied lotion.

“I DON’T THINK you understand what I’m saying, Mother. You’re the one who got me into this, so why the resistance now?”

“Why? You’re sixteen years old and you want to run off to New York and you wonder why I, your mother, who loves Austin, thank
you very much, suggest that maybe, just maybe you’re being a bit impulsive?”

“Something like that, yes. I was under the impression that you wanted me to pursue a career in modeling.”

Celine plucked the square white box of beef and broccoli off the table and marched to the waste bin into which she summarily
dumped the half-eaten takeout. “You can be such a snob, but you know that, don’t you?”

Mother rounded the counter and made a show of wiping down the tile with a dish towel, but the kitchen was spotless from lack
of use. “I can’t believe you would dump this on me now of all times. I finally find someone I love, and you know very well
he can’t move out of Austin, even if he wanted to, and you do what? Dump something like this on me.”

Bethany set her chopsticks into the box of noodles, crossed her arms, and sat back, fully aware of precisely what her mother
was saying.

Before taking her trip to New York for the
Youth Nation
photo shoot, Bethany had honestly entertained doubts about her interest in pursuing a career in the camera’s eye. All five
of the shoots prior to New York had been hot and tedious affairs that made her feel more like a slab of meat than an honored
guest.

But the cover shoot in New York had showed her a completely new side of the business. She’d been treated like royalty from
the moment she, Celine, and Patty had set foot in
Youth Nation’
s reception room, beginning with the large bouquet of flowers and Henri, the masseur who had met her.

Each step she’d taken in the building had been followed by an assistant, whose sole purpose was to see to her comfort, whether
that meant emptying the room of the countless persons fussing over her so that she could have a moment or getting her a soda.

They’d stayed in a very luxurious suite in the Waldorf and ordered whatever they liked from room service and over the course
of the week, they’d seen four Broadway shows, including both
The Lion King
and
Wicked
.

Naturally, she was smart enough to look past all the trappings, however enjoyable they were. In fact, she found them just
a bit over-the-top. These weren’t why she’d decided that she loved New York.

But something else had happened in New York that she couldn’t easily put aside. For the first time she could remember, Bethany
had seen herself not as Celine’s daughter, in a never-ending struggle for control, or even as her mother’s peer, jockeying
for position in a constantly changing environment, but as herself, apart from Celine.

She, not Celine, had been the center of attention, and apart from a few fits of frustration, Celine had been forced to step
back and keep her mouth shut.

For the first time her mother’s opinions hardly mattered. Bethany’s makeup and hair, and the clothes she wore, the food she
ate, even the way she talked—none of it was any of her mother’s business, a point made very clear on day one. Celine and Patty
were welcome to watch. Quietly.

What at first felt uncomfortable to Bethany soon turned to relief and by the end of the week, she’d grown so pleased with
her ability to cope in this environment without her mother’s hawking that she began to plot ways to return.

“You’re only sixteen, for the love of God!” Mother snapped. “Don’t let all of this attention get to your head.”

“I’m who you always wanted me to be, Mother. I wasn’t the one who chose this life. Everything I am is because of you. And
who I am, not to mention my agent, tells me that I would be much better off in New York. I have two other covers waiting in
the wings; a whole string of smaller shoots, but I can’t very well fly to New York every weekend for photo shoots.”

“They said they could work around you! Why are you insisting on all of this? Moving to New York is out of the question. I’m
getting married here!”

“Yes, of course, we would hate to interrupt your precious life for the sake of your daughter, wouldn’t we? Never have, why
start now?”

“You can’t possibly think that I would actually even consider giving up a relationship with Burt so that you can run off to
New York.”

“No, but you could send me to the New York Institute for College Preparation. They have a boarding program.”

Her mother looked as if she’d been slapped. “Boarding school? Who’s going to pay for that?”

“I will.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

But Bethany knew that the idea was already taking root in her mother’s head. She would put on a good show of resistance while
secretly cheering the solution to her last barrier to freedom. With Bethany out of the house, Celine could do as she pleased,
when she pleased.

“We both know you owe me this,” she said, pushing her chair back. She left the takeout on the table and walked to the counter.

“I don’t owe you a thing. You’re attending a private school, you’re on the cover of
Youth Nation,
I’ve always given you everything you wanted. You’re spoiled rotten!”

“You married a man who deserted us and you didn’t have the guts to set things straight. You dragged me around the country,
forcing me to leave old friends and find new ones. I don’t belong anywhere, my friends are about as shallow as they come,
I don’t have a father worth spitting at, I have nothing! I followed you stupidly because I was just a kid who had no choice.
But I know better now. I’m not denying you your relationship with this new fling; I don’t see why you should deny me what
I want.”

Hearing herself say it all, Bethany felt even more compelled to leave this city and make a new start, this time with people
who valued her beyond their obligations.

She’d even been deserted by those who did have an obligation.

Slowly Celine’s stare softened. “You’re overreacting,” she said.

To what? Bethany didn’t ask the question because suddenly she felt quite emotional about her own predicament.

“You’re hurt.”

“Obviously.”

“By him,” Mother said, clenching her jaw. “By that freak who ran off. I hate him.”

“Don’t blame this all on your husband—”

“Ex-husband.”

“He may be a loser, but you’ve never cared much either.”

“How can you say that?”

“You know how I can say it, Mother. You’re just playing; you’re absolving the guilt you already have for wanting me out of
your hair for good.”

The moment Bethany thought it, she became convinced it was true. Which only made her predicament worse. She was hated by both
father and mother. New York really was her only option.

“You want me to go, don’t you?”

Celine hesitated, confirming her suspicion. She crossed to the cupboard and withdrew a red wineglass.

“I don’t know, Bethany. You sit here and talk like this and I just don’t know what to think. Maybe it would be best.”

The final confirmation sliced into Bethany’s chest with surprising pain. “My own blood doesn’t want me,” she said. “I hate
you, Mother. I hate you as much as I hate my father.”

Celine spun and threw the glass in the sink, where it shattered. “You insolent little cow! You’re not even our blood.”

Bethany blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You… you’re adopted.”

Her heart stopped. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Adopted
?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we took you in when you were a baby. I can’t have children.” Celine’s upper lip was trembling. “See what you’ve forced
me to tell you?”

It now all made perfect sense to Bethany. Why her father had left. Why Celine had never shown her any affection. She wasn’t
even their child!

But she didn’t know what to do with this information. She felt completely lost and vulnerable, staring across the island at
Celine, whose glassy eyes signaled her regret for what she’d said. She turned away and poured herself another glass of red
wine.

The woman who had been her mother up until a moment ago was right. Bethany was only sixteen, and no sixteen-year-old should
have to face this kind of life.

How could it be that with all the cars and clothes and houses they had, they didn’t have the most basic of all human needs?
They didn’t have each other.

Celine now had Burt Welsh.

Bethany had nothing.

“Thank you for sharing, Celine. I think I’ll go to bed now, if it’s all right with you.”

“Don’t try to manipulate me,” her ex-mother said in a low, biting tone. “I may not be your mother by birth, but I still changed
your diapers.”

“Is that what I smell? Hmm, and here I thought it was coming from your mouth.”