Rob nodded and Gates slipped out through the flush door behind his desk. He watched Kara as she sat with her eyes closed, looking like she was asleep but sitting upright. If he didn't know better he'd have said she was stoned out of her gourd. He let his eyes roam about the room, taking in the antique furniture and the hundreds of books lining the walls.
Something drew his attention back to Kara.
Her eyes were open.
They blinked once, twice, then her head turned toward him, slowly, smoothly, like a gun turret rotating atop a tank. Her eyes fixed on him, vacantly at first, then they seemed to focus.
Then she smiled.
Rob nearly jumped out of his seat. He had never seen a smile like that before, at least not on Kara. It was little more than a pulling back of the lips. There was no warmth, no humor in it. In fact there was nothing in the eyes to confirm that it really was a smile at all. Maybe it was just a baring of the teeth. Whatever it was, it drove a spike of icy fear through Rob's gut.
Whatever it was, it wasn't Kara's smile.
And then, still smiling fixedly, her head rotated back the other way. When it reached its previous position, the rictus faded and Kara's eyes closed again. She made no further movement.
Gates returned a few minutes later with a folder in his hands. He took one look at Rob and stopped in his tracks.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?"
Kara answered first. "No."
Rob started at the sound of her voice and tried to gather his thoughts. His reflex was to tell Gates nothing. He went with it.
"No," he said, half choking as he waved a dismissing hand. "Everything's fine."
Rob had no intention of giving Gates any ammunition. If there was something there, let Gates find it and confirm it on his own.
But as the time dragged on, Gates' best efforts turned up nothing. He asked Kara all sorts of bizarre questions about intimacies with her father—some of them pretty foul-sounding—which she denied one after the other.
After a full hour of this garbage, Rob had had enough.
"I think it's time to call it quits, don't you?" he said.
Gates looked at him, leaned back in his chair, and nodded. He looked disappointed.
"I believe you're right." He turned to Kara. "Kara Wade, when I count to three and clap, you will awaken feeling alert, relaxed, and refreshed, with no memory of the past hour."
He counted, clapped, and Kara opened her eyes.
"Well?" she said, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Did anything happen?"
Gates shook his head. "Nothing."
She turned to Rob, smiling hesitantly, hopefully. "Really?"
Rob rose slowly to his feet, as much to stretch his cramped muscles as to give himself a second or two to listen to his racing mind. What to say? Tell her how she'd looked at him with that vulpine grin, an expression that was as much at home on her face as swastikas on a synagogue? Tell her and snuff out the relief glowing so brightly in her eyes now as she looked up at him, make her spend the rest of her life under a cloud of doubt? Or let it ride and see what happened?
Rob smiled back at her. "Really."
She leaped from the chair and embraced him, laughing.
"Oh, God! Thank God!"
And then she was crying, gripping his lapels and sobbing against his shirt. He slipped his arms around her and gently held her for a little while.
Too soon she straightened up and back away.
"I'm sorry," she said, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes. "It's just that I've been so worried! So frightened!"
Dr. Gates said, "I do not feel we should rest too easy, Miss Wade. We have not completely ruled out the existence of a second personality."
"Maybe you haven't," she said, "but I have." She stepped forward and thrust out her hand. "Thank you, Dr. Gates. Please send me your bill."
Gates rose and shook it once. "Please be careful, Miss Wade. There remains the possibility that this experience may have awakened something. If you suffer any unusual experiences, black-outs, memory lapses, please do not hesitate to call me."
"Don't worry," she said smiling brightly. "You'll be the first to know."
And then she had her arm crooked around Rob's and was leading him from the consultation room. "Let's celebrate!"
▼
7:20 P.M.
This was not exactly what Kara had meant by celebrate.
She had been thinking of a bar or a restaurant, someplace with lots of people and laughter, even if it was desperate laughter. Instead, Rob had called in her promise to allow him to cook her a meal. He had insisted too that Jill and Ellen join them.
Kara had said absolutely not, but he had gone ahead and called Ellen's place. Ellen had demurred, but Jill had been thrilled, leaving Kara with little choice but to agree. She had been briefly furious, but then remembered what a good friend Rob had been these past two days, and the anger evaporated. Leaving only anxiety about putting those two together for so long. But Rob hadn't noticed any resemblance between Jill and himself two days ago, so there was a good chance everything would work out tonight.
So far, so good.
She was sitting now in the tiny living room of Rob's one-bedroom apartment, sipping wine and watching him as he stood in the even tinier kitchen and showed Jill how to slice scallions. The air was redolent of garlic and oil heating in the wok; laughter from Jill and Rob mixed with the sounds of the St. John's basketball game on the TV.
Rob and Jill. It was scary the way they hit it off. Rob, who used to say he never wanted to be tied down by kids, must have been repressing his nurturing needs all these years. Jill had somehow tapped into them. Maybe it was their blood relationship. Maybe somewhere inside, on a subconscious level, they had recognized each other. Whatever the reason, they were instant buddies.
Seeing them together like this made Kara intensely uneasy. She wanted no new ties to Rob. Their break up ten years ago had been excruciating. She didn't want to go through that again — for both their sakes. And she did not want to try to explain why she had raised his daughter all these years without telling him she existed. Because she wasn't quite sure herself.
But the bonding between Jill and Rob didn't explain all the tension she sensed coiled within her now. After passing the hypnosis test this afternoon she had expected to feel relieved, exhilarated, free, cleansed. And she had, briefly. But then an ill-defined malaise had set in, a vague, pervasive sense of something not-quite-right that she hadn't noticed before.
Maybe it was the city. That had to be it. It was always the city. A good thing she and Jill were leaving tomorrow. Not a moment too soon. If she stayed much longer there was no telling what might happen. She could even imagine herself falling in love with Rob again.
She wondered if she had ever really stopping loving him.
"Jill," she said, rousing herself, "come on over here and sit with me and let Mr. Harris get the cooking done."
Jill hopped of the stool and ran over to where Kara was sitting. Rob had tied an apron around her neck. It dangled around her knees and she almost tripped over it.
"He needs my help, mom," she said in a loud whisper. "He wants me to cut the scallions real thick, and we always cut them thin."
"I think you can cut them thick when you're putting them in a wok," Kara whispered back.
"Really?" She glanced at Rob with new respect. "How come we don't ever wok?"
"We will, if you want to."
"Yeah!" Her eyes were bright with excitement. She loved to cook. "It's fun!"
"Okay. Then we'll buy one as soon as we get back to the farm."
Jill glanced furtively at Rob and lowered her voice further.
"He doesn't exploit women, does he." It was a statement.