Part 16 (1/2)

No, not her.

Regardless of what had happened last night, he needed Kate. Not this girl, who, he reminded himself, like everyone else, was using him.

”Get out!” he shouted.

”But I love you!”

”No!” He turned and raised his hands to his head to subdue the pounding that was growing angrier the longer he stayed in this polluted room. ”You used me. You even stole my clothes.”

”I'm in love with you. Peter, please. I almost died when I heard you were coming to speak at the commencement. I had to sneak into the reception, just so I could see you. And then when I met you and you invited me here, I knew it was because you felt it too, the way we connected when we saw each other.” She came from behind him and attempted to take him in her arms.

”Don't touch me,” he said, shaking her off. He crossed the room and positioned himself on the other side, a chaise lounge between them.

She stayed where she was, hands at her sides and face all red and puffy. ”Peter, I need you. I've changed my life because of you.”

He looked in her direction, but his eyes were unseeing. ”If you don't get out of here right now with everything that's yours, I'll carry you outside myself and throw you down the hill.” His face was unmoving and placid, almost like the smiley face.

She took a step toward him, her hands twisting together, pleading. ”But last night. Peter. What about last night?”

He closed his eyes and clamped his jaw. Nothing.

”f.u.c.k you, then,” she spat. But she made no motion to leave.

Instead, she crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stood there. A sound that was both a laugh and a cry burst from her lips. ”Don't you see? I did this for you, because I care about Joey, and you.

Why don't you want to believe that. That's why I changed my studies, because I knew this was something important.” She smacked the monitor. ”You know you care about it.” She pointed at him accusingly. ”You said so yesterday, when I showed you how far I'd come.” She made a disgusted face. She fought to hold back her tears. ”But you don't give a d.a.m.n. Not about anyone but yourself.”

He did not respond. As she collected her things, his attention remained fixed on the computer's screen. He heard her climb the stairs and enter the guest room. There were sounds of drawers opening, the closet door sliding on its tracks. A few minutes later she came downstairs. He did not look at her.

She crossed the room and ejected a floppy diskette from the Joey, and picked up a box of floppies sitting on the table. She placed the items in her knapsack, hoisted the bag onto her shoulder, and collected her small duffel bag at the doorway. Straightening herself for a moment with her back to him, she spoke. ”You're gonna regret you did this, Peter.” Then she was gone.

He sat down and glared at the smiley face. It returned his gaze, pa.s.sive, obedient, waiting for input. Just like everyone else, he thought morosely, it wanted something from him.

At his side he felt the neck of a bottle protruding from between the sofa cus.h.i.+ons. He lifted it. A nearly empty bottle of wine.

Red wine.

And then it hit him. The bottle was the special Cabernet Sauvignon Kate had given him on their first date, which they had vowed to drink together when Wallaby turned ten years old.

”No!” he cried, and hurled the empty bottle at the evil smiley face with its leering, s.h.i.+t-eating grin.

The monitor exploded in sparks and smoke, the smiley face gone forever, and the room fell into silence and he was all alone.

”Greta?” Matthew called, stepping from room to room on the lower floor of the house. He climbed the stairs. Soft, pleasant music drifted out from the bedroom. He closed in on the bathroom, and found his wife in the tub. She raised her face from some sort of picture book or atlas propped on a silver bath tray table.

He lowered himself to the closed toilet seat. ”It's over,” he said.

”Thank G.o.d,” Greta said. She closed her eyes and stretched her right arm out of the tub. Bubbles and soapy water dripped from her perfect hand onto the floor. ”Darling, would you pa.s.s me the oil please?”

He handed her a bottle of spiced bath oil. She held it there, out of the tub, until she caught his eye. She led his vision to the bottle's cap and he uncapped it and held it while she squeezed the red liquid into the water. It spurted from the bottle and he was suddenly mesmerized by the mixture as it bled into the water.