Oh yeah? he asked. Well, a fine howdy-do to you, too, Mother Teresa, but I think I'll pass.

Kat sighed. She turned toward Riley, her face a mask of sadness, and he reached out for her hand. Let's go, she said.

You fucking bitch! Without warning, Virgil threw the door wide and lunged for Kat. Riley got between them and grabbed Virgil firmly around both of his thin upper arms, pushing him back against the side of the house. He felt as light and hollow as a bird.

Virgil, get hold of yourself. This is not what you want to do right now.

Riley made sure Virgil was focusing on him and not Kat. You're going inside to sleep it off. If you don't, I'll get the ambulance here and they'll take you back to Davis and I'll admit you.

Fuck you, you fucking /Bohland/.

Let's go. Kat tugged on Riley's sleeve.

Stay and fight like a man! Virgil screamed, the spit flying everywhere.

Riley guided him back inside the kitchen door, then shut it.

The walk back to Kat's was much slower. It was also completely silent except for the phone call Riley made to Rita, informing her that her brother was in a drunken rage and needed to be taken to the hospital.

When they reached Kat's place, she took Riley by the hand and headed upstairs. She led him to the bed, peeled off his coat and then her own, and brought him down to lie next to her. Please hold me, she said.

He did. They fell asleep in their clothes. /Grinding, grinding, sanding, sanding…/ the faces of women were emerging from the stone now, women who'd pleasured him, women he'd controlled, women he wanted to control, women who pissed him off or turned him on, women who got him so angry they deserved to be pushed out of windows, women who made him feel lucky to be a man.

To most sculptors, this part of the process was the least enjoyableall the work, hours and hours of dipping silicon carbide sandpaper in water, slowly working your way from the coarser to the finer grits, wearing down the marble in an imitation of the ways of nature, the millions of years of rain and wind and dust and light and heat and cold it would have taken to get the same gloss. But Virgil loved it. He loved the physicality of it. He loved how he got to be God in human form, how the baseness of his efforthunched over and pushing, pushing, pushing the sandpaper over the rockresulted in such beauty. /Grind, grind, sand, sand…/ the women exposing themselves to him, just as he knew they would. And they were exquisite, every one of them.

Good Lord, that's the most hideously ugly thing I've ever seen in my life.

Virgil didn't even bother looking up. Then stay away from mirrors, Rita.

He hoped that if he just kept working, she'd go away, but instead he sensed her moving closer.

There should be a limit to how many heads can go on a single sculpture.

Get out.

Riley called me, she said.

So what?

He said you were in a drunken rage and needed to go to the hospital. So I'm here to take you.

Do I look full of rage?

You look very ill, Virgil. You've just had a heart procedure. And obviously, you've been drinking.

Fuck you. Fuck the procedure. Fuck Bohland. Fuck /everyone./ For some inexplicable reason, Rita decided that that was her invitation to sit down on the sculpting stool and cross her varicose-veined legs like she was getting settled in for a nice long visit. Virgil ignored her. He dipped. He hunched. He sanded.

Did Kat say anything to you today?

Yeah. She invited me to Thanksgiving dinner, if you can believe that.

Rita was quiet. Virgil looked out of the corner of his eye to see her staring in disbelief. Finally, she said, I'm sure she was crushed to hear that your dance card was full.

I told her to fuck off.

At least you're consistent.

Go away.

What I meant was… Rita's voice trailed off. Well, I was wondering if Kat said anything about her childhood, you know, anything about BettyAnn or you.

Virgil threw the 150-grit sandpaper sheet onto the studio floor, right at Rita's feet. I am working. I don't want you here. I don't want to discuss my dead wife. Now, get out.

It's just that Riley's office has been badgering me, Rita persisted.

They said you really need to get back to the cardiologist.

I don't want to go to that foreigner! Leave me alone!

You're killing yourself, she said, like she was his principal, the principal of the world.

If I die, I die. He was growing really tired of this conversation. And up until that moment, I'd like to work in solitude.

Rita groaned.

This is my masterpiece.

It's a piece of something, all right, she said.

Virgil tried to stand up tall, but his body began to sway. Rita, he said, pointing at her with a wavering arm, you're an ugly old-maid schoolmarm who couldn't get laid if her life depended on it, and forgive me if I don't see the value in your critique, but you don't know shit about art or life or passion or… He staggered, catching himself on the edge of the worktable. Anyway, you're ugly. Get out.

With a deep sigh, Rita stood up from the work stool. Her lips were pursed, and Virgil noticed how old she looked. When did that happen?

I hate you, she said flatly. I always have. I don't know why I ever moved to this town to be near you. You may have been my only living relative, but you are a waste of humanity. I'm sorry for every kind thing I ever did for you, because you deserved nothing. Then she turned her back on him and headed for the door.

Not as much as I hate you, you wrinkled old cow.

By the way, she said, clearly about ready to deliver her parting shot.

That's no masterpieceit's a freak show. I hope you rot in hell.

Thank God she was gone. He could get back to the lovely ladies. Virgil knew they'd missed him.

I absolutely refuse to do that, Carrie said.

You have a better idea?

Yes, in fact, I have a great idea, Madelinehow about you just drop it?

How about you get over yourself? Find a hobby? I can tell you from personal experience that it feels fabulous!

Uh-huh.

I've met someone!

Madeline couldn't resist. So, when's the wedding? she asked.

Carrie said nothing at first, but when she did speak, her words came out clipped. I want you to stop calling at work or at home. I think this borders on harassment, and I will get a protective order if I have to.

Madeline laughed so hard she had to stop pinching the edge of the piecrust.

You were never really my friend, anyway, Carrie continued. I just used you.

Madeline tossed the rolling pin down on the counter. Yeah. I'm real clear on that. But obviously, you're not so clear on the situation we have right here, right now.

I'm hanging up.

Fine. Then I'll be sending out some e-mails as soon as I get these apple pies in the oven. I think I've got everybody I need, but tell me if I'm missing anyone important. Let's seethe director of the state's Department of Health and Human Resources; the chairman of the state medical board's committee on impaired physicians; your assistant, Alice; your parents, Charlie and Verna Mathis of Beckley, West Virginia; the chairman of the legislative committee on whatever it's called You wouldn't!

Madeline laughed. Carrie, just do it, for crying out loud. Come to Persuasion for the Thanksgiving benefit and bid on Mattyou'll make a donation for a good cause and you'll get me off your back. I can't see the harm in that.

And you'll drop this?

Madeline did a silent victory dance. If you make Nola visibly jealous and work her into a tizzy, I'll drop this. It's a promise.

Carrie didn't miss a beat. But I have no control over whether Nola goes into a tizzy, or even what constitutes a tizzy.

Madeline supposed Carrie had a point, which made her pout. Do it or I hit the?send' button.

Fine, Carrie said with finality. I make Matt's bail in the charity auction and I'll make sure everyone thinks I'm hot for him, and you'll back off. Agreed?