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.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, he's doing the cooking and you're sitting out here. That's good, isn't it?"
"And you're helping him. Sharing the jobs, that's what's really important."
Jill nodded sagely. "Right." She turned and headed back toward the kitchen.
"Where're you going, bug?"
"To help him with the shrimp. He doesn't clean them as good as we do."
"Well," Kara said.
Jill rolled her eyes. "As well as we do." She cupped a hand around her mouth. "He leaves some of the black stuff along the back." She made a disgusted face.
Kara laughed. "Then maybe you'd better help him."
▼
After dinner there was coffee and Kahlua. When Jill left the table to use the bathroom, Rob turned to Kara. "What a great kid she is! I love her!"
Kara kept a two handed grip on her coffee cup to keep it from shaking.
"Thank you."
"Even if she is bit of a spaz," he added with a smile.
"Give her a break, Rob. She's never even seen chopsticks before!"
"All right. But I'm giving her a pair to practice with. Next time you're back in town, we'll do this again and I expect her to be a pro."
There won't be a next time, Kara thought with genuine regret.
"What's on the schedule tomorrow?" he said.
"Got an appointment with my editor—to see if I can get an extension on the deadline for my book—and then it's back to the farm."
"Ever think of trying the city again? It's a great place for writers."
Kara gave him a level stare and returned the ball to his court.
"Why don't you open that restaurant you've always talked about? Lancaster can always use another good restaurant. And no matter how great New York is for writing, it's a lousy place to raise a child. Besides, I like writing at the farm."
Rob sighed resignedly. "Got a title for your book?"
Kara was grateful for the change of subject.
"It's called Feminism and Fascism."
He raised his eyebrows. "Catchy. What's it about?"
"It's basically cautionary, showing how some of the movement's more radical methods and legislative drives may be turned around on us some day and do us harm instead of good. Right now I'm working on a chapter that shows why we shouldn't wail and moan about so-called 'sexual bias' in tests like the SATs. The whole purpose of the movement is to show we're just as sharp, just as smart as males, so how better to prove that than by outscoring them on any test males take? If we're equal, why should we insist on special treatment?"
"I'll buy the first copy," Rob said. "When do you think it'll be published?"
Before she could reply, Jill's high-pitched yelp came from the bathroom.
"Whoa! Does this ever exploit women!"
Rob's eyes widened and he leapt from his chair.
"Oh, Christ! My Penthouses!"
▼
"Can we see Rob again soon?" Jill said as they stepped inside Ellen's front door.
"Oh, so it's 'Rob' now, is it?" Kara said, relieved that she had been able to get away without making any more promises to him.
"He told me to call him that."
"Well, you should still call him 'Mr. Harris.' "
"Can we have him come down and visit us on the farm?"
"Next time he's in Elderun," Kara said, "I promise we'll have him over for dinner."
"Good! 'Cause I like him a lot," she said, and ran toward her bedroom.
Kara bit her lip as she watched her daughter scamper away. Soon or later she was going to have to tell them. But when?
So excited. Don't recall ever seeing him this excited. Thinks he has her now. Absolutely sure of it.
Too bad. Because he's rarely wrong.
Her only hope is to flee, to get as far away as she can. But she won't. They never do. He won't let them. Especially not this one. He wants her so very badly.
Wonder why.
He'd never tell me, even if I asked him, but think I know why. Because this one is the twin of the other one. So angry when he lost her. No one's ever gotten away from him before. So having this new one, this twin of the other, is just like having the lost one back again.
That must be the reason for his excitement. Like a little child, really: furious when he doesn't get his way and euphoric when he does.
I'd love to see him thwarted again. Wish I could find a way to warn the new one, but of course that's impossible as long as all my free hours are spent caged in this place.
Must be a way. I'll have to work on it. Yes. That's my project.
Of course, if the new blonde goes far enough away, I won't have to warn her. But think I'll work on the plan anyway. For I don't think she has a chance.
February 13
5:36 P.M.
Ed Bannion had spent a lot of time in the New York Public Library since his visit with Kara Wade two nights ago. He'd checked out what books he could, and every spare minute of his free time during library hours had been spent pouring over psychiatric journals. He'd done an awful lot of reading on multiple personalities and had become adept at translating Psychobabble into plain English. Anyone who thought lawyers lived in doubletalk should try reading this garbage for a couple of days.