The Taming (25 page)

I
blew my nose on a handful of leaves. It was disgusting. I was disgusting. He made me feel disgusting. How did that happen? At least this time, I hadn’t done … what Evan wanted. But then, I probably should have. He loved me so much and he
needed
me. Evan had never loved anyone like he loved me. He’d said so. In fact, he said it all the time now.

How could I have?

I had hurt him, and I’d hurt him badly. I should have been ashamed for hurting him.

No. I should have been ashamed for letting him hurt me.

I ricocheted ferociously between all different kinds of shame.

So I blew into decaying November leaves to steady myself. That, and I didn’t have a Kleenex on me. I couldn’t risk getting caught all teared up and snotty by Mom. She’d actually been so much calmer the past few weeks. I couldn’t even remember which shift Mom was on this week. What if she was home and wanted an explanation? Why was I crying? I didn’t even know, not really. There were so many things mixed into that stew of tears. And there had been so much to cry about lately. Surely that couldn’t be right?

I gave one last good blow onto a leathery oak leaf and I wiped my eyes with my jacket sleeve. Then I walked around the block inhaling deeply for good measure. I was almost normal on the second go-round so I finally went up.

The smell of lamb roasting greeted me as soon as I got off the elevator. Well, Joey was there for sure.

“Mom? Joey?” I called as soon as I got in.

“In here, kid.” It was Joey.

I hung up my coat and tossed my backpack into my room before making my way to the kitchen. No Mom. Joey had on his standard cooking/realtor uniform, the snowy-white Italian shirt, and what I now know was a silk Hermes tie flung over his shoulder and one of our pathetic tea towels tucked into his belt. This one was a fraying and greying souvenir from Gatorland, Florida. We’d gone with Nick Kormos. Back when we were happy. Before I’d ruined everything.

Noooo
. Before
Nick Kormos
had ruined everything.

Joey gave a good-natured wink. “I’m making lamb shanks that are going to blow your mind, kid!” Then he stopped, seeming to take me in for the first time.

“You okay, Katie?”

“Sure!” I gave him my best standing ovation smile, the one I’d been practising in the bathroom mirror ever since I’d got the part. “Absolutely, Mr. Campana. What’s a lamb shank?”

“Call me Joey.”

“Yes, sir … Joey.”

He groaned.

“Something’s up. I know you got that big opening night in a couple of days and that would send me to the bathroom and keep me there, but I kinda don’t think that’s it, kid. Is it?”

I sighed and then tried to take it back. You can’t take back a sigh.

“Right. You and your fella okay? Not that it’s any of my business.”

I must have nodded. No one said anything for a bit. No one moved.

“It’s just that you get to be a certain age, kid, and … well, I’m a guy, you know?”

Huh? I must have nodded again.

I sat down on the kitchen stool. Joey opened the oven door. He basted the lamb. The broth bathed our kitchen in an honest earthy juiciness.

“You gotta understand something, Katie. Not all of us are jerks, you know. Relationships are complicated.”

Complicated was right. Something clicked in my head.
That’s what photos are for
, he’d said. Evan had removed all the photos from his iPhone, all but that one nice one that we had taken at the beginning. He knew how the pictures freaked me out, reminded me, upset me. So he’d got rid of them! It felt like an ice cube was lodged in my throat. What was the matter with me? This was Evan. Evan
loved
me.

“Like me and your mom. Your mom, well she …”

“Gets in her own way?” I volunteered.

Joey nodded and shut the oven door. “She’s crazy with fear, and fear makes you do some pretty stupid things, on the one hand.”

Mom, afraid?
My
mother? Angry, yes, mean as a snake, and charming when she had to be, but scared?

“On the other hand …” He wiped his hands on the towel and examined me for something or other. “On the other hand, sometimes you have to go with your gut, and if it’s full of fear, if you’re jumpy for any reason, then you gotta cut and run, honey. I meet a lot of people in my business and I gotta be some kind of judge of character. And if you’re worried about your guy, Katie, it will not get better.”

Our eyes met. He knew. I don’t know how he knew, but he knew that something was off with Evan. He hadn’t even met him, and somehow, he knew I was afraid.

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” I nodded, desperate to change the topic. “So, you and Mom?” There was so much buried in those words. I would judge him by the honesty of his answer, not that I had any kind of track record. My “liar alert” appeared to be permanently disabled. Or was it?

Joey folded his arms and sighed. “I’m trying, kid. I can’t make any promises, though.”

“You wouldn’t leave because of me, would you, Joey? Please be honest. A kid can really screw up stuff. I want you to know that I can do better. I can be better.”

Joey groaned and reached into the fridge for a Stella Light. “That’s your mom talking.” I was about to protest, but he put up his hand. “And it’s the fear that makes her talk that way.
Her
fear, Katie, not
yours
.” He took a deep swig of beer. “Look, I’m crazy about your mom. When she’s really herself, there is no one better to be with. I want to take care of her, and you too, if you’ll let me, but …”

“But she may screw it up.”

He nodded. “Speaking of screwing up, hang on for a second, kid, I want to remind myself of something.”

Joey pulled out his iPhone, hit a couple of buttons and started talking. “Note to self, don’t screw up the Hollanger listing and search. Remember, she hates any memory, no matter how trivial, that reminds her of her humble origins. Stay close to Justin Park and keep the search to nothing less than six bedrooms.” He paused. “And only show her that old-money feel. Stay away from the moderns and anything new, even if it’s made to look like it’s old.” He hit something and then smiled. “Sorry, kid, I think I just uncovered the secret to a sale, but I like to get it down before I lose it, and I’m old school enough that I like voice rather than text for that kind of thing.”

Voice.

Evan’s voice. In the car, Evan had definitely said, “That’s what pictures
are
for.” Not
were
for. Dear God. He’d said that he’d removed them from his phone. Could they be somewhere else? There was so much about this stuff I didn’t get. What would he use them for? The single ice cube in my throat multiplied. I shivered. What could he use them for? I saw myself turning into a “Dateline NBC” episode. No. Evan l
oved
me. I believed it. I believed him. It was just that he got so angry when things didn’t go exactly …

“You okay, kid? Look, I know stuff’s going on, and it’s more than the play, I … it’s just that, I’ve seen, couldn’t help but see, uh, some marks on—”

“So you can record on your phone?” I asked, interrupting him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah, sure.” Joey nodded and frowned at the same time. “You get this app, the iPhone Recorder. Handy as hell. But Katie, really, kid, if I can—”

“I’ve got to go.” Joey looked alarmed. “To my friend Lisa’s. She’s good with, uh, what I’m going to need.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be back soon. Cover for me?”

Joey wiped his dry, clean hands on the towel some more. “I’ll say you had to go back to rehearsal and I’ll keep a shank warm, but …”

“I promise, I’ll let you know if I need you, if I need help.” I practically ran to the hall.

“Hey, kid!” He came after me. “Two things?”

“Yeah, Mist … Joey?”

“One, you’re a good kid and you deserve a good guy.”

“Thanks, uh, Joey. And?”

“And, I
know
you’re a
great
actress. Use it.”

“Yeah.” I nodded and shut the door. “Thanks, Joey.”

I had to change buses twice to get to Lisa’s. I used the time to rehearse what I was going to say, how I was going to frame it, massage it. Still make him look good. I had an opera in my head by the time she answered the door.

And thank God she answered the door.

Because I was crying good and hard by then. Again. God, I was sick of crying. But, at the same time it was like all that water had finally washed away something. It was like I was coming out of a long, long drowning sleep.

“Katie? What the … ?”

“I need help, Lisa.” And I stopped crying.

Chapter Forty-Three

“T
hat was pretty amazing,” I said to Katie, trying to be heard overtop of the cheering audience as we stood in the left wing, just offstage.

The rest of the cast was already out front taking their bows. There had been a few missteps, but generally things had gone very well—even better than the performance in front of the student audience the day before.

“You’re next,” Ms. Cooper said to me.

I reached over to take Katie’s hand.

“No,” Ms. Cooper said. “Just you … Katie is last.”

“Okay … sure …” I let go of her hand.

Danny opened the curtain so I could slip through. I took a step out and the audience started cheering, louder than it had for anybody before me. I joined in the gap in the middle of the line of actors and took a bow. The applause got even louder.

I came up from my bow and scanned the audience, looking for my parents. I knew they had some kind of charity gathering to go to but they’d said they still might come tonight. I couldn’t see them, but then again, I couldn’t see much, and besides, they were only going to come to one performance so maybe it would be tomorrow’s. I wondered if my father was going to come at all. Part of me didn’t care. But it wasn’t a big enough part.

Now the audience was roaring, and they’d jumped to their feet. It took me a split second to realize the reaction was for Katie. I stepped slightly aside and she brushed by me, walked to the very lip of the stage and took a long, low bow as the entire audience seemed to explode. I could feel a wave of sound wash past us. She was the star, and she had been pretty amazing … but that much better than me?

Somebody came up to the edge of the stage—he was carrying flowers. It was her mother’s boyfriend, Joey. I recognized him from his billboards. His suit, white and silk, was as tacky as his advertisements. He reached up, and she reached down and gave him a hug. Was something going on between them? She released him and stepped back until she was right beside me. She took my hand.

All of us, in one line, took another bow, and the audience, still on its feet, cheered. We took a second bow and the curtain opened up and performers, from each side, started to retreat until only Katie and I were left onstage. I held onto her hand and then pulled her close and gave her a kiss. The audience started cheering and—she pulled away from me.

“Not here,” she mouthed.

I released my grip and turned and exited the stage, leaving her alone. I looked back as she took her final bow. I could tell she was drinking in the audience reaction, basking in the warmth of their applause, standing there all by herself. Without me.

Chapter Forty-Four