Angel Falls (37 page)

KH:
I am always fascinated by the push-pull of science and faith, especially when it comes to medical questions. We all know that medical science has limits; faith does not. In this novel, I was interested in discovering how quickly a man of science would turn to faith when medicine failed him. The underpinning of the entire novel is Liam’s faith. I never thought it was divine intervention that allowed Mikaela to recover her memories—that was simply luck of the draw. Brain injuries can go either way on memories, but the overwhelming number of patients do not become permanent amnesiacs. I do think, however, that there was certainly the touch of divinity in her recovery, as there always is in a “medical miracle” case.

JMG:
You write, “Julian caught a glimpse of his own empty soul.” To what do you attribute his moment of clarity? Why has his life grown meaningless? What do you think happens to Julian after he leaves Last Bend? Do you believe that he’s become more capable of love, or do you see him as reverting to his Hollywood persona?

KH
: I always saw Julian as a brilliant man in a big hurry. He’s been running so hard and so fast and so long, that he hasn’t stopped to notice that he’s reached his destination and it’s an empty place. Hollywood, as lived in by Julian, is a cold place—the perfect reflection of his own empty soul. Until he sees real life in Last Bend and the woman he loved and the child he lost, he doesn’t really understand the lack in his life. In
Last Bend, he finally slows down enough to see the truth: He’s alone. It doesn’t matter that he has friends and bodyguards and agents and sycophants around him all the time. In the end, he is alone, and he knows that the only way to stop being alone is to reach out to someone else, to change who he is; and he can’t do it. His life has grown meaningless because he hasn’t looked for meaning, hasn’t bothered to care about anything but his own carnal and physical pleasures. Ironically, in caring only about himself, he has rendered himself meaningless. At the end of the novel, I believe that he thinks he’s grown more capable of love because of Jacey and Mikaela, but it’s yet another self-delusion. Julian will return to Hollywood and merge into the Ferrari-fast traffic of his old life. Someday, when his star dims, he will see the cost of the life he’s chosen, and by then it will truly be too late.

JMG:
The word “forever” sounds a constant refrain in this book. Was this a word you returned to often as you were writing? What does “forever” mean to Mike and Liam at the beginning of their lives together, and how has their definition of the concept changed by the novel’s end? What does “forever” mean to you?

KH:
Obviously, “forever” is about the future, and in a novel where the future is so uncertain, tomorrow becomes the life ring that Liam and the children hang onto. More importantly, I think that “forever” is the representation of idealized love. In a world where so many marriages end in divorce, it’s important to remind
people, and ourselves, that love can in fact last a lifetime, and that sometimes, if we’re very careful and lucky, we can stay in love with the same person for the whole of our lives. That’s the crux of this novel: Mikaela and Liam realize that their vows really were built to last, as was their love. This time, when Mikaela looks up at Liam and says “forever,” she means it from the bottom of her soul, with no reservations. To me, there’s nothing more romantic than the idea of re-falling in love with your own husband. And I absolutely, completely believe in the kind of love that lasts forever. But it doesn’t come easily. That’s the real secret; true love takes hard work.

JMG:
The Liam and Mikaela pictured at the beginning of the book are markedly different from the couple at its conclusion. Why did their life seem so idyllic before Mikaela falls from her horse? What do you think would have happened to their relationship had she not had the accident?

KH:
The answer to your question lies in the word “seem.” That was the point of the opening of the novel. Liam and Mikaela seemed to have a perfect marriage. Someone on the outside, looking in, would have said that they were perfect for each other. The truth was, they were hidden to each other, trapped in a quiet bubble of mutual pretense. Mikaela respected and cared for Liam; he adored and revered her. Neither one truly loved the other in the unconditional way that leads to the possibility of forever. I believe that without the accident,
Liam would have passively adored Mikaela for the rest of his life—and someday she would have left him, either physically or spiritually. They didn’t have a true marriage before the accident. They had a family. There can be a difference. Their journey together is that of falling in love, really for the first time. Previously, the bulk of their relationship was about Liam “saving” Mikaela and her thanking him.

JMG:
Are there any writers or books that you were drawn to while writing this novel? (Did you reread
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
, perhaps?) Which authors are the greatest influences on you and your writing?

KH:
Hmm. I’m not sure which authors are the greatest influence on my writing, but I can certainly tell you a few of my favorite authors and favorite books. First and foremost, I’m a Pat Conroy fan. I kneel at the altar of his words, his wit, and his insight. His books take me from laughing out loud one minute to sobbing the next. It’s my very favorite kind of read. Also, I’m a huge fan of Stephen King. I’ve been reading him since high school and he just knocks it out of the park sometimes. No one is better at reminding us of how it felt to be a kid. I have to mention Alice Hoffman, too. Pure magic. Additionally, in no particular order, I adore: Anne Rivers Siddons, Judith McNaught, Anne Rice, Dean Koontz, Megan Chance, Ann Hood, Jacquelyn Mitchard, LaVyrle Spencer, Harlan Coben,
Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Sue Miller, Ann Tyler, and Anita Shreve.

JMG:
Do you have any special routines that stoke your creative juices while you’re writing—or a system that works best for you while putting together a book? What are they?

KH:
My special routine is panic.
Oh, no, what now?
is always my first thought when I have to start a new book. I’m always certain that the well has run dry and I won’t find another good story. Then, miraculously, I do. Once I’ve got the idea, I do have a routine of sorts. I write longhand on yellow legal pads with a certain kind of pen. I let the book blossom for me at this point, following the characters wherever they lead. At some point, I take control again and start whipping everyone into shape. This editing phase usually lasts about six months and is my favorite part of the process. I guess I don’t particularly like mining for the diamond, but I really enjoy cutting it into a gem.

JMG:
Is there a particular story idea that’s currently sparking your imagination? What can readers expect on the shelves next from you?

KH:
Actually, this is a big year for me. I have a Christmas novella with a powerhouse of a twist, coming out in November, and a full-length novel (currently titled
The Magic Hour
coming out in the spring of 2006. Of all the novels I’ve written, I am most proud of
The
Magic Hour
. It’s an extraordinary story about a girl with no name who simply appears one day in a small Washington town. The quest to find out who she is—and where she belongs—will consume the town and change everyone who meets her.

1.
Angel Falls
begins with a flashback about Ian and Fiona, Liam’s grandparents. Why do you think Kristin Hannah chose to start the book in this way? What tone does it set for the novel as a whole? How do Liam’s grandfather and father both motivate and intimidate him?

2. The novel unfolds from the points of view of four distinctive narrative voices—Bret, Liam, Julian, and Mikaela. How is this narrative technique effective in propelling the novel forward? Did you identify with one voice more than another, or consider the novel to be the story of one particular character? Which one?

3. After Bret sees his mother’s accident, how does he cope with the ensuing trauma? How do his reactions differ from those of Jacey? How does each of them grow up within the course of the book?

4. What do Mikaela and Liam consider the most important elements of parenthood? How does their approach
to child-rearing differ from that of their parents? How does Liam deal with winning Jacey over when he comes into her life and becoming a single dad after Mike’s accident?

5. How does Rosa’s “bad love” influence her daughter? What do you think motivated both Rosa and Mikaela to choose the inappropriate men that they did? Have you or a friend ever been in a similar situation? How did you resolve it?

6. Why do you think Mikaela saved the remnants of her former life in a pillowcase? What about that time did she cling to? Were you surprised by Liam’s response to the discovery? Why do you think that he behaves as he does? How might you have reacted?

7. Why won’t Mikaela tell Liam about her previous marriage to Julian? Why doesn’t Liam press her? What would you have done on either side of the same situation?

8. Why does Liam involve Julian in his quest to awaken Mikaela? What are Liam’s initial feelings about Julian, and do they change over time? Why do you think that Mikaela murmurs Julian’s name and then responds to it while she’s in the coma? What about his memory haunts her?

9. Why can’t Liam turn to music after Mikaela’s accident? What does he turn to instead to combat his anxiety and worry?

10.
“Julian True” is an invented name by a movie star. What’s ironic about the moniker that he has chosen for himself? Why does he finally tell Mikaela his real name?

11. Do you think that Julian ever truly loved or still loves Mikaela? Why couldn’t he stay faithful to his wife? How come he returned to Last Bend to be with her?

12. How is Kayla a different person in Julian’s memories than the Mikaela of Liam’s recollections? How does Rosa provide Liam with a picture of her daughter’s life before him? Do you think that she approves of either of her daughter’s relationships? Why or why not?

13. What is Liam’s weakness in relationships? What is Julian’s? Do you think that the two men forge a bond with each other, and if so, how? What might have attracted Mikaela to them?

14. Why does Julian decide to attend the prom? What does Jacey represent to him? What does he think he might be able to give Jacey?

15. Part four of the novel begins with a quotation by Kierkegaard: “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward.” How does this quote resonate in the lives of Mike, Liam, and Julian? How does the past influence and affect their futures—both together and apart?

16.
What prompts Mikaela to remember the details of her past? Do you think that divine intervention spurs her recollections? The intervention of her mother? What do you think Mikaela might regret the most?

17. “It was the coma that had saved her life,” Kristin Hannah writes. What do you think might have happened to a seemingly picture-perfect family had Mikaela not been in the accident? How does it bring Liam and Mikaela closer together? How does it affect the family as a whole?

18. Why does Liam constantly refer to himself as “ordinary”? To what do you attribute his low self-esteem? In which ways is movie star Julian a resolutely ordinary person? Do you think that both Liam and Julian have extraordinary characteristics? What are they?

19. How does Mikaela finally put her obsession with Julian behind her? Why do you think her feelings for Liam triumph over her lingering love for Julian? How do you think their partnership will change as a result?

Coming in hardcover at bookstores everywhere Published by Ballantine Books

It will all be over soon
.

Julia Cates had lost count of the times she’d told herself that very thing, but today—finally—it would be true. In a few hours, the world would know the truth about her.

If she made it downtown, that was. Unfortunately, the Pacific Coast Highway looked more like a parking lot than a freeway. Hot, dry Santa Ana winds scoured the landscape. The hills behind Malibu were on fire again, and smoke hung above the rooftops and turned the normally bright coastal air into a thick, brown sludge. All over town, terrified babies woke in the middle of the night, crying gray-black tears and trying to draw in an even breath. Even the surf seemed to have slowed down, as if exhausted by the unseasonable heat.

She maneuvered through the cranky, stop-and-go traffic, ignoring the drivers who flipped her off and cut in front of her. It was expected: in this most dangerous of seasons in Southern California, tempers caught fire as easily as backyards. The heat made everyone edgy.

Finally, she exited the freeway and drove down to the courthouse.

Television vans were everywhere. Dozens of reporters huddled on the courthouse steps, microphones and cameras
at the ready, waiting for the story to arrive. In Los Angeles, it was becoming a daily event, it seemed; legal proceedings as entertainment. Michael Jackson. Courtney Love. Robert Blake.

Julia turned a corner and drove to a side entrance, where her lawyers were waiting for her.

She parked on the street and got out of the car, expecting to move forward confidently, but for a terrible second, she couldn’t move.
You’re innocent
, she reminded herself.
They’ll see that. The system will work
. She forced herself to take a step, then another. It felt as if she were moving through invisible wires, fighting her way uphill. When she made it to the group, it took everything she had to smile, but one thing she knew: it looked real. Every psychiatrist knew how to make a smile look genuine.

“Hello, Dr. Cates,” said Frank Williams, the lead counsel on her defense team. “How are you?”

“Let’s go,” she said softly, wondering if she was the only one who heard the wobble in her voice. She hated that evidence of her fear. Today, of all days, she needed to be strong, to show the world that she was the doctor they’d thought she was, that she’d done nothing wrong.

The team coiled protectively around her. She appreciated their support. Although she was doing her best to appear professional and confident, it was a fragile veneer. One wrong word could strip it all away.

They pushed through the doors and walked into the courthouse.

Flashbulbs erupted in spasms of blue-white light. Cameras clicked, tape rolled. Reporters surged forward, all yelling at once.

“Dr. Cates! How do you feel about what happened?”

“Why didn’t you save those children?”

“Did you know about the gun?”

Frank put an arm around Julia and pulled her against his
side. She pressed her face against his lapel and let herself be pulled along.

In the courtroom, she took her place at the defendant’s table. One by one, the team rallied around her. Behind her, in the first row of gallery seating, several junior associates and paralegals took their places.

She sat perfectly erect, trying to ignore the racket behind her, the doors slamming open and creaking shut, the footsteps hurrying across the marble-tiled floor, the whispered voices. Empty seats were filling up quickly; she knew it without turning around. This courtroom was The Place to Be in Los Angeles today, and since the judge had disallowed cameras in the courtroom, journalists and artists were no doubt packed side by side in the gallery, their pens ready.

In the past year, they’d written an endless string of stories about her. Photographers had snapped thousands of pictures of her—taking out the trash, standing on her deck, coming and going from her office. The least flattering shots always made the front page.

Reporters had practically set up camp outside her condo, and although she had never spoken to them, it didn’t matter. The stories kept coming. They reported on her small-town roots, her stellar education, her pricey beachfront condo, her devastating breakup with Philip. They even speculated that she’d recently become either anorexic or addicted to liposuction. What they didn’t report on was the only part of her that mattered: her love of her job. She had been a lonely, awkward child, and she remembered every nuance of that pain. Her own youth had made her an exceptional psychiatrist. It was, really, the only thing that mattered to her.

Of course, that bit of truth had never made it to press. Neither had a list of all the children and adolescents she’d helped.

A hush fell over the courtroom as Judge Carol Myerson took her seat at the bench. She was a stern-looking woman
with artificially bright auburn hair and old-fashioned eyeglasses.

The bailiff called out the case.

Julia wished suddenly that she had asked someone to join her here today, some friend or relative who would stand by her, maybe hold her hand when it was over, but she’d always put work ahead of socializing. It hadn’t given her much time to devote to friends. Her own therapist had often pointed out this lack in her life. Truthfully, until now, she’d never agreed with him.

Beside her, Frank stood. He was an imposing man, tall and almost elegantly thin, with hair that was going from black to gray in perfect order, sideburns first. She’d chosen him because of his brilliant mind, but his demeanor was likely to matter more. Too often in rooms like this it came down to form over substance.

“Your Honor,” he began in a voice as soft and persuasive as any she’d ever heard, “the naming of Dr. Julia Cates as a defendant in this lawsuit is absurd. Although the precise limits and boundaries of confidentiality in psychiatric situations are often disputed, certain precedents exist, namely
Tarasoff v. Board of Regents of the University of California
. Dr. Cates had no knowledge of her patient’s violent tendencies and no information regarding specific threats to named individuals. Indeed, no such specific knowledge is even alleged in the complaint. Thus, we respectfully request that she be dismissed from this lawsuit. Thank you.” He sat down.

At the plaintiff’s table, a man in a jet-black suit stood up. “Your Honor,” he said, shaking his head. “Four children are
dead
. They will never grow up, never leave for college, never have children of their own. Dr. Cates was Amber Zuniga’s psychiatrist. For three years, Dr. Cates spent two hours a week with Amber, listening to her problems and prescribing medications for her growing depression. Yet with all that intimacy, we are now to believe that Dr. Cates
didn’t
know
that Amber was becoming increasingly violent and depressed. That she had no warning whatsoever that her patient would buy an automatic weapon and walk into her church youth group meeting and start shooting.” The lawyer walked out from behind the table and stood in the middle of the courtroom.

Slowly, he turned to face Julia. It was the money shot, the one that would be drawn by every artist in the courtroom and shown around the world. “
She
is the expert, Your Honor. She should have foreseen this tragedy and prevented it by warning the victims or committing Ms. Zuniga for residential treatment. If she didn’t in fact know of Ms. Zuniga’s violent tendencies, she should have. Thus, we respectfully seek to keep Dr. Cates as a named defendant in this case. It is a matter of justice. The slain children’s families deserve redress from the person most likely to have foreseen and prevented the murder of their children.” He went back to the table and took his seat.

It isn’t true
, Julia whispered, knowing her voice couldn’t be heard. Still, she had to say it out loud. Amber had never even
hinted
at violence. Every teenager battling depression said they hated the kids in their school. That was light-years away from buying a gun and opening fire.

Why couldn’t they all see that?

Judge Myerson read over the paperwork in front of her. Then she took off her reading glasses and set them down on the hard wooden surface of her bench.

The courtroom fell into silence. Julia knew that the journalists were ready to write instantly. Outside, there were more of them standing by, ready to run with two stories. Both headlines were already written. All they needed was a sign from their colleagues inside.

The children’s parents, huddled in the back rows in a mournful group, were waiting to be assured that this tragedy could have been averted, that
someone
in a position of authority
could have kept their children alive. They had sued everyone for wrongful death—the police, the paramedics, the drug manufacturers, the medical doctors, and the Zuniga family. The modern world no longer believed in accidents. Bad things couldn’t just happen to people; someone had to pay. The victim’s families hoped that this lawsuit would be the answer, but Julia knew it would only give them something else to think about for awhile, perhaps distribute some of their pain. It wouldn’t alleviate it, though. The grief would outlive them all.

The judge looked at the parents first. “There is no doubt that what happened on February nineteenth at the Baptist church in Silverwood was a terrible tragedy. As a parent myself, I cannot fathom the world in which you have lived for the past months. However, regret and compassion is not our job here today. The question before this court is whether Dr. Cates should remain a defendant in this case.” She folded her hands on the desk. “I am persuaded that as a matter of law, Dr. Cates had no duty to warn or otherwise protect the victims in this set of circumstances. I reach this conclusion for several reasons. First, the facts do not assert and the plaintiffs do not allege that Dr. Cates had any specific knowledge of identifiable potential victims. Second, the law does not impose a duty to warn except to clearly identifiable victims. And finally, as a matter of public policy, we must maintain the confidentiality of the psychiatrist-patient relationship unless there is a specific, identifiable threat which warrants the undermining of that confidentiality. Dr. Cates, by her testimony and her records and pursuant to the plaintiff’s own assertions, did not have a duty to warn or otherwise protect the victims in this case. Thus, I am dismissing her from the complaint, without prejudice.”

The gallery went crazy. Before she knew it, Julia was on her feet and enfolded in congratulatory hugs by her defense team. Behind her, she could hear the journalists running for
the doors and down the marble hallway.
“She’s out!”
someone yelled.

Julia felt a wave of relief.
Thank God
.

Then she heard the children’s parents crying behind her.

“How can this be happening?” one of them said loudly. “She should have known.”

Frank touched her arm. “You should be smiling. We won.”

She shot a quick glance at the parents, then looked away. Her thoughts trailed off into the dark woods of regret. Were they right?
Should
she have known?

“It wasn’t your fault, and it’s time you told people that. This is your opportunity to speak up, to—”

A crowd of reporters swarmed them.

“Dr. Cates! What do you have to say to the parents who hold you responsible—”

“Will other parents trust you with their children—”

“Can you comment on the report that the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office has taken your name off the roster of forensic psychiatrists?”

Frank stepped into the fray, reaching back for Julia’s hand. “My client was just released from the lawsuit—”

“On a technicality,” someone yelled.

While they were focused on Frank, Julia slipped to the back of the crowd and ran for the back door. She knew Frank wanted her to make a statement, but she didn’t care. She didn’t feel triumphant. All she wanted was to be away from all this … to get back to real life.

The Zunigas were standing in front of the door, blocking her path. They were paler versions of the couple she’d once known. Grief had stripped them of color and aged them.

Mrs. Zuniga looked up at her through tears. “You
did
help her, Dr. Cates.”

Julia was touched by the generosity of that statement. “She loved both of you,” Julia said. “And you were good
parents. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. Amber was ill. I wish—”

“Don’t,” Mr. Zuniga said gruffly. “Wishing hurts most of all.” He put an arm around his wife and drew her close to him.

Silence fell between them. Julia tried to think of more to say, but all that was left was
I’m sorry
, which she’d said too many times to count, and
good-bye
. Holding her purse close, she eased around them, then left the courthouse.

Outside, the world was brown and bleak. A thick layer of smoke darkened the sky, obliterating the sun, matching her mood.

She got into her car and drove away. As she merged into traffic, she wondered if Frank had even noticed her absence. To him it was a game, albeit with the biggest stakes, and as the day’s winner, he would be flying high. He would think about the victims and their families, probably tonight in his den, after a few Dewar’s over ice. He would think about her, too, perhaps wonder what would become of a psychiatrist who’d so profoundly compromised her reputation with failure, but he wouldn’t think about them all for long. He didn’t dare.

She was going to have to put it behind her now, too. Tonight, she’d lay in her lonely bed, listening to the surf, thinking how much it sounded like the beat of her heart, and she’d try again to get beyond her grief and guilt. She
had
to figure out what clue she’d missed, what sign she’d overlooked. It would hurt—remembering—but in the end, she’d be a better therapist for all this pain. And then, at seven o’clock in the morning, she’d get dressed and go back to work.