She truly looked forward to the day that they could end all this commuter relationship nonsense. Riley's talents were being wasted in that town, and that stupid clinic would have done nothing but seal his low-class fate. With that in mind, Carrie had already found a dozen potential jobs for him here in the capital city and she was confident he'd eventually come to his senses. With a little luck, she could wrap up her rural diabetes management study right about the time Riley relocated hereand they could put that silly little town and all its history behind them, for good.

Carrie gathered her briefcase and purse, a twinge of guilt tickling at her as it occasionally did. Some people might think it was unethical the way she'd used legislative sleight of hand to get Riley's clinic funding killed. But anyone making that judgment wouldn't understand that she had Riley's best interests at heart. She loved him. She knew what was good for him. She was good for him.

The nurse at the triage desk pointed to a row of mint green fabric curtains, informing Kat and Nola that Virgil Cavanaugh could be found in evaluation room B-4. It took exactly eighteen steps to get there. Kat counted. She laughed at herself for being such a baby about this. Her parents were just like everyone else. Just people. Not monsters. They'd made some serious mistakes a long time ago, but maybe they'd just done the best they could. Kat was no longer a childshe was a grown woman. She could handle this.

Kat gripped the edge of the curtain and pulled it aside. The first thing she noticed was a pale old man on a gurney, his eyes closed and his body still. The humming and beeping of monitors were the only indication he was alive. The next thing she noticed was that her mother was nowhere to be seen.

Kat sat down in one of the small plastic chairs over by the sink. Nola sat next to her.

That's Virgil, right? Nola whispered, reaching for Kat's hand.

That's him.

Kat couldn't take her eyes off the man who lay under the pale yellow blanket. His body looked… /reduced/ somehow. Virgil Cavanaugh had never been a huge man, but he'd been strong and he'd been mean, and Kat had always thought that his meanness took up space in the world. People seemed to keep their distance from him. The dean at Mountain Laurel had always humored him, because Virgil's name lent credibility to the college's small art department. His students respected his talent but never liked him as a person. It had always been that way.

Kat leaned forward in the chair, trying to get a closer look. Her father's hands appeared knotted and limp, nothing like the powerful and graceful hands that had once made wet clay and hard marble submit to his every whim. His skin was decorated with a web of tiny broken capillaries and sagged from the bone of his cheeks, jaw, and elbows. For a moment, Kat imagined that his meanness had faded along with his youth, or had even disappeared altogether sometime in the last twenty years.

A vision shot through her brain with such force that it knocked the wind from her. She was looking down at her own young hands, knuckles blanched because she held a mallet so fiercely, and she raised that mallet above her head and brought it down on the clay figure of a woman. The woman's face flew across the studio. Kat raised her arms again. And again. And again. Until there was nothing but clumps of clay on the floor.

Kat nearly jumped when the curtain flew open and a big, smiley nurse barreled into the tight space, greeting the women cheerfully before she went to the patient. Well, Mr. Cavanaugh, it looks like we're going to be admitting you so that you can get a cardiology consult. How does that sound? We'll have you settled upstairs quicker than you can say ?tiddlywinks.'

A vile hiss seemed to float up from the bed. /Tiddlywinks, my ass./ That comment was followed by a wheezy cough and then more gravelly words: No nurse should be as big as a heifer like you. Cuts back on patient confidence.

Kat thought she'd fall off her chair. Nola's fingernails dug into Kat's hand. But the nurse continued adjusting his oxygen line and responded calmly. Listen up, Prince Charming. You might be old and sick, but that doesn't give you the right to be a bastard.

Kat gulped. Her father had just rolled his head to the side and allowed his stare to land directly on target. His eyes pierced hers. Go on and tell her, KatharineI've always been a bastard. Go ahead. You know the story. /Jesus-Hang-Gliding-Christ,/ Nola mumbled.

I sincerely apologize for him, Kat told the nurse, hearing the weariness in her own voice. It occurred to her that she'd yet to say one word to her father and she was already exhausted by his company. Why had she come here? What the hell had she been thinking? She hated this place, and this place hated her. She already knew with certainty that this whole trip had been a mistake and she hadn't even gotten to the best part yether mother. How much worse would it get? Right then and there, Kat promised herself that her next half-tipsy, spontaneous road-trip fantasy would remain a fantasy.

He's right, Kat said with a sigh. My father's always been a mean and nasty bastard.

The nurse's eyes got big and she forced a smile. Well, then. The doctor should be here any minute to chat with you nice people. She swept through the curtain and was gone. It flung open again so quickly that Kat figured the nurse had forgotten something.

The instant the doctor entered the small space, Kat's heart stopped.

Forget her dadshe was the one who was going to need a cardiologist. She watched the tall, handsome, dark-haired doctor grab the patient's chart and begin to flip through the pages.

Kat fought to get enough breath to say the word: /Riley?/ Hell-lo! Nola sing-songed.

Riley raised his midnight blue eyes to Kat. In that split second, she was sixteen, in his arms, laughing, her heart wide open and her whole life ahead of her. But she blinked and the illusion was gone, and she was looking into the eyes of a tired guy in a white coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck, the words /Riley Bohland, M.D./ embroidered in red on the left chest pocket. He's going to recover, Riley said.

Kat nodded. I'm glad one of us will.

Their eyes locked. Nothing else existed except the force of that gaze, the power in it. Riley looked away before Kat could decide what it was that she'd caught a glimpse of. Regret? Longing?

Virgil let out a raspy laugh. Well, looky hereit's Romeo and Juliet after taxes.

Riley clipped the chart to its hook at the foot of the hospital bed and ignored the comment. All right, Virgil. We're taking you up to the cardiac unit and let them poke around a bit, do some tests. Could be you'll need a catheterization to unblock your arteries. We'll know by tomorrow.

Riley turned to Kat, all business. Would you like to help him get settled in his room?

Kat suddenly felt ill. She stood up and motioned for Nola to get to her feet, too. There was no way in hell Kat was going to hang around to comfort Virgil or deal with this cold, hollowed-out stranger who was once Riley. I think my mother is better suited for that job. We need to be getting back to town.

She's not here, Katharine.

Something in her father's voice made Kat freeze. She looked at him, scanning his eyes for an explanation of whatever his voice had just revealed. There was nothing.

Where'd she go? The cafeteria?

Her question was met by absolute silence. Kat noticed Riley raise his chin and breathe deep.

Depends on your views, I suppose, her father said. But no religion I ever heard of offers a cafeteria option for the afterlifeit's usually just heaven or hell. If I had to pick, I'd say heaven, but then, me and the Almighty aren't exactly fishin' buddies, so what do I know?

It felt like the floor dropped. Or the whole world. And Kat was relieved to feel Nola's steady hand at the small of her back.