The First Time (13 page)

“You all right back there, sweetheart?” her father asked, scaring Teddy away.

Who the hell do you think you are? Kim demanded silently, angry eyes burrowing deep holes in the back of her father’s head. The white knight riding in on his white horse to save the day? Is that how you see yourself? Well, I’ve got news for you, Jake Hart, famous attorney-at-law and general all-around shit. This isn’t a white horse. It’s a white Oldsmobile. And we don’t need your help. In fact, we don’t need you at all. We’ve been getting along very nicely without you. Actually, we’ve hardly even noticed you’re gone.

“I’m sorry we had to bother you,” she heard her mother say, her voice stronger than before, though lacking its usual resonance. Why wasn’t she angrier? Why did she have to be so damn polite?

“You should have called me earlier,” Jake said. “There was no need for you to drive into the city.”

“Mom isn’t an invalid,” Kim said.

“No, but she was in a major car accident less than ten days ago, and she’s still not fully recovered.”

“You sound like Lisa.”

“It’s common sense.”

“I’m fine,” Mattie said.

“She’s fine,” Kim echoed. How dare he say anything to criticize her mother! What Mattie did, what
they
did, was no longer any of his concern. He had no right to criticize or pass judgment. He’d forfeited that right the day he walked out. Kim stretched her hand toward the front seat, resting it on her mother’s shoulder. She should never have called him. She should have called her grandmother or Lisa or another of her mother’s many friends. Anyone but Jake. They didn’t need Jake.

The fact was that her father had never been a huge part of her day-to-day life. Ever since Kim could remember, her father was someone who waved to her each morning on his way to work, and who kissed her good night if he was home in time to tuck her in. Her mother was the one who accompanied her to school, took her to the doctor and the dentist, drove her to her lessons in piano and ballet, attended each and every parent-teacher meeting, school play, after-school sporting event, stayed home with her when she was
sick. It wasn’t that her father didn’t care. It was just that he had too many other places to be. Other places he’d
rather
be.

As Kim grew into her teens, she saw even less of him, their busy schedules at constant odds. Since moving to Evanston, she’d hardly seen her father at all. And now Jake Hart was more like a ghost than a man, haunting the halls he no longer inhabited, his presence defined, possibly even enhanced, by his absence.

At first, Kim worried that her mother might fall apart. But her mother, despite her injuries, had been coping with Jake’s defection surprisingly well. All Mattie’s worries were reserved for Kim. “It looks much worse than it is,” she’d quickly assured Kim, who’d almost fainted at the sight of her mother’s beautiful face covered in ugly bruises. And then later, “How are you, sweetie? Do you want to talk about it?” She’d even tried sticking up for Jake. “Don’t be too hard on him, sweetie. He’s your father, and he loves you.”

Bullshit, Kim thought. Her father didn’t love her. He’d never wanted her.

She didn’t want him now.

After that, they rarely mentioned him. Her mother’s bruises changed colors as effortlessly as the outside leaves, growing fainter every day. The scratches healed. The stiffness left her joints. She went about the business of everyday life, renting a car, shopping for groceries, even contacting several clients, making appointments for the coming weeks. Aside from the occasional problem with her foot falling asleep, her mother was doing just fine.

They both were.

They didn’t need him.

“How are you doing back there, Kim?” her father asked, giving the question a second try. She saw him looking at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting both concern and hope.

Kim grunted, said nothing. If her mother wanted to be civil and agreeable regarding their separation, that was her business. It didn’t mean Kim had to.
Somebody
had to play the jilted wife.

“Looks like I’m going to be offered a partnership in the near future,” Jake said. “That’s what took me so long getting here. People kept stopping me in the halls to congratulate me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Kim heard Mattie say. “You’ve worked very hard. You deserve it.”

You deserve to rot in hell, Kim thought.

“How are you going to get back to the city?” Mattie asked, as Jake turned the car onto Walnut Drive.

“I’ve arranged for someone to pick me up in about half an hour.”

“Your girlfriend?” Kim’s voice was sharp, slashing at the air like a razor. “And don’t look at Mom that way,” she said, almost before he had the chance. “She didn’t say anything.”

“We need to talk, Kimmy,” her father began.

“Don’t call me Kimmy. I hate Kimmy.” He’d called her Kimmy when she was a little girl, she remembered, faint memories flooding back, filling her eyes with unexpected tears.

“Please, Kim,” he said. “I think it’s important.”

“Who cares what you think?”

“What’s going on?” her mother asked, and for an
instant Kim thought she was speaking to her, that her mother was angry, that she was taking his side against hers.

And then she saw the police car parked outside their house and the two uniformed officers standing outside her front door. What was happening?

“It’s probably about the accident,” Jake said.

“I’ve already talked to the police,” her mother said as Jake pulled the car into the driveway and stepped out of the car.

“Problems?” he asked.

Kim helped her mother out of the front seat, her eyes on the young man and woman in neat blue uniforms. The man, who identified himself as Officer Peter Slezak, was about five foot eleven, had arms the size of tree trunks, and wore his hair so short, it was difficult to tell what color it was. The woman, whom Officer Slezak introduced as his partner, Officer Judy Taggart, was about five foot seven, and approximately the same width as one of Officer Slezak’s thighs. She wore her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and there was a large pimple on her chin she’d tried to conceal with makeup. Kim absently felt her chin for any pimples of her own.

“Is this your house?” Officer Slezak asked.

“Yes,” Jake answered.

No, Kim almost screamed. It’s not your house.

“Is there a problem?” Mattie stepped forward, took charge.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” Officer Taggart stared openly at the bruises on Mattie’s face.

“Is this about the accident?” Jake asked.

“It wasn’t exactly an accident,” Officer Slezak said.

“I’m sorry?” Mattie said, her way of saying, Excuse me, as if apologizing in advance.

“Maybe you should tell us what this is about,” Jake said, resuming control.

“We’re looking for Kim Hart.”

“Kim?” Her mother gasped.

Kim stepped forward, a dull ache building in the pit of her stomach. “I’m Kim Hart.”

“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“About?” Jake interrupted.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Mattie suggested, walking up the steps to the front door. Kim noticed that her mother was having trouble with the key and gently lifted it from her hand, easily fitting it into the lock and pushing open the door.

Seconds later they were grouped around the kitchen table, the officers having declined Mattie’s offer of coffee.

“What can you tell us about the party at Sabrina Hollander’s house last Saturday night?” Officer Slezak began, staring directly at Kim’s chest as Officer Taggart produced a notebook and pen from the back pocket of her well-pressed trousers.

“There was a party.” Kim shrugged, aware of her heart pumping wildly beneath her breasts, wondering whether that was what Officer Slezak was staring at.

“Were you there?”

“Maybe for an hour.”

“What time was that?”

“Around nine.”

“So you left the Hollander house at about ten?”

“Not even that,” Kim said.

“What was happening at the party?”

“Not much.” People were dancing, drinking beer, passing around the occasional joint. Teddy had convinced her to try a few tokes before they adjourned to the backseat of his car. Had somebody reported seeing her do drugs? Was that why the police were here? To arrest her?

“What are you getting at, officers?” Jake Hart asked.

“Sabrina Hollander threw a little party while her parents were out of town. Two hundred kids showed up.”

“Two hundred kids,” Kim repeated breathlessly, deciding that she must have fallen asleep in the car, and that this whole episode was part of an unpleasant dream.

“Someone decided it would be fun to trash the house,” Officer Slezak continued. “They slashed paintings, ripped up the carpets, defecated on the furniture, punched holes in the walls. Altogether there was almost a hundred thousand dollars worth of damage.”

“Oh, my God,” Mattie said, covering her bruised lips with her bandaged hand.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Kim said, feeling numb.

“You didn’t see anything while you were there, hear anybody talking?”

“No. Nothing.”

“But people were drinking, doing drugs,” Officer Taggart stated, as if this were a fact not open to dispute.

“People were drinking beer,” Kim qualified, her voice weak, her eyes drifting toward the backyard pool, wishing she could disappear without a trace beneath its smooth blue surface.

“And you said you left the party at ten o’clock?”

“She’s already answered that,” Jake interjected. A better lawyer than a father, Kim thought, reluctant gratitude mixing with her resentment.

“But you did know about the incident,” Officer Slezak said.

“I heard some of the kids talking about it at school,” Kim conceded, trying to ignore the look of surprise that fell across her mother’s face like a shroud.

“What did they say?”

“Just that they heard things got out of hand. The place got wrecked.”

“Did they say who was responsible?”

“Apparently some kids crashed the party. Nobody knew them.”

“You’re sure?”

“She’s answered the question.” Jake’s voice resonated quiet authority. “I should explain that, in addition to being Kim’s father, I’m also an attorney.”

Not to mention an adulterer, Kim added silently.

“I thought I recognized you,” Officer Slezak said, his voice flat, decidedly unimpressed. “You’re the guy who let that kid who murdered his mother get off scot-free.”

Way to go, Dad, Kim thought. I’ll be lucky if they don’t hang me.

Minutes later Officer Slezak slapped his giant haunches, signaling the meeting’s end. Officer Taggart
quickly folded up her notebook and returned it to her back pocket. Kim walked them to the front door, closed it after them, leaned her forehead against its hard oak grain.

“Is there anything you’re not telling us?” her father asked, coming up behind her.

“In a few months I’ll have my driver’s license, and we won’t have to call you anymore,” Kim said defiantly, pushing past him and disappearing up the stairs. Minutes later she watched from her bedroom window as her father walked down the front path to the street. He looked up, as if he knew she was sitting there, and waved.

She didn’t wave back.

T
he following Monday, Mattie was on the phone with Roy Crawford when the call-waiting signal sounded. “Can you hold just a minute, Roy? I’m sorry. I won’t be a second.” Mattie wondered why she hadn’t chosen to ignore the signal, as she often did when talking to important clients. She already had voice mail to take messages. What did she need with call-waiting? Except that Kim had been so adamant about keeping it, and these days, most of the calls were for Kim. Maybe it was time for her daughter to get her own line, although it seemed an unnecessary expense in light of Jake’s departure. And sooner or later she was going to have to start giving serious thought to her financial situation. “Hello,” Mattie said into the phone, amazed at the number of irrelevant thoughts she could crowd into the space of a second.

“Mattie, it’s Lisa.”

Mattie stared vacantly toward the sliding glass door of her kitchen, noting the sun shining incongruously through heavy gray skies. She didn’t want to talk to Lisa. Lisa was only going to tell her more things she didn’t want to hear. “Lisa, can I call you back in a few minutes? I’m on the other line.”

“This can’t wait.”

Mattie felt her entire body go numb. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

“I need to see you in my office.”

“I’m not having any more tests.”

“No more tests. Look, I’ve already called Jake. He’s picking you up in half an hour.”

“What?” Mattie shrieked. “What do you mean, you called Jake? You can’t do that.”

“I already did.”

“You had no right. Look, this is ridiculous. Hold on a minute.” Mattie pressed the hold button, returned to her earlier conversation with Roy Crawford, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Roy, can I call you right back?”

“Why don’t I just pick you up for lunch at around twelve o’clock?”

“Fine,” Mattie said, immediately returning to the other line, barking into Lisa’s ear. “What do you mean, you called Jake? I didn’t give you permission to discuss my case with him.”

“I haven’t discussed anything with him.”

“Then why is he picking me up in half an hour?”

“Because I told him it was important.”

“If it’s so important, why don’t I just drive over to your office right now?”

“Because I don’t think you should be driving.”

“I’m perfectly capable of driving,” Mattie argued, trying to gain some control over the conversation, over the events unfolding, over her life.

“Mattie,” Lisa said, a slight catch in her voice, “Dr. Vance just called me with your test results.”

Mattie held her breath. “And?” The word tumbled from her lips before she could stop it.

There was a long pause before Lisa continued. “It’s a little complicated. I’d rather discuss everything with you in person.”

“Why did you call Jake?”

“He’s your husband, Mattie. He should know what’s going on.”