Page 27 - WTP XII #3

short and compact, Katie tall and lean. He pushed himself up and pretended to stretch while secretly watching the girl. Her round green eyes and pointy chin were her mother’s, but her nose, a little too long with a slight bump near the top, resembled Luca’s. Avoiding eye-contact and careful not to bump into anyone, Hank wove through the crowd, his body so tense he felt it might snap. Before he left, he had to see the girl’s feet.
On the outskirts of a group gathered near the fire- place, Hank hid from Katie and her father and peered through a forest of legs until he found her orange sandals. As pigeon-toed as his father’s or his own, Katie’s long, narrow feet turned in. Hank didn’t need to see her in shorts to know she was bow-legged too.
Fear seized his body and he couldn’t breathe. Duck- ing around people and avoiding Catherine, he fled upstairs and sat alone in Gene’s study, the nerve endings in his gut on fire. How could he have been so desperate for sex and so furious at Catherine
that he’d taken Gretel’s word that she’d used birth control? He banged his fist on the desk and cursed out loud. He called himself names: He was a liar, a coward, a schmuck who’d risked losing the people he loved most because he’d been cuckolded and was angry at his wife. A man who had the temerity to think he was special and the hubris to imagine that he could get away with behavior that had brought down better men than he. You stupid fool, he said to himself, you’ve jeopardized everything.
He stood and paced the study, walking back and forth between bookshelves and windows that looked out on the sea and, as he did, envisioned his life in ruins, its building blocks crumbling, warped by the truth. Sitting at Gene’s desk, the dark amber whiskey dared him to drink it. Hank forced himself to think of other things—the first time he’d caught his mother in a
lie, his childhood dog, Ginger, a collie-spaniel mix with Corgi legs, the patients he had loved the most over the years—until he cleared his mind enough to
return to the party.
In the living room, Katie was still talking to her father while Catherine laughed with Beth. Nameless faces flickered before Hank. A prickling on the back of his neck made him pivot to the left. His eyes caught Gre- tel’s, and he saw her sheer panic at her recognition that he’d figured things out. He watched her fear turn to rage. She hated him. She hated him for understand- ing that she’d lied to him and used him. There had never been a drunken mistake except for her count- ing on never seeing him again. His own mistake had been to think he had some kind of moral dispensation in this world.
She was the first to break eye contact. Her shoulders slumped and he thought he saw a tremor run through her. Then, slowly, she stood up straight and stared
at him, but before she could speak, he walked away, banishing her from his sight.
Ashamed for them both, he searched for Catherine who, he knew, would leave him if she found out, not because of the girl but because he’d lied to her for years, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. She wouldn’t care that somewhere along the line he’d come to believe this fictionalized version himself.
And what was he supposed to do about this daughter he had unwittingly fathered, who had as much right to the truth as Catherine and Charlie? The future was in Katie’s hands. He and Gretel were locked in secrecy, but if Katie did one of those DNA tests or became friends with Luca, whatever happened would be out of her parents’ control. In his mind, Hank was already listening to Catherine’s accusations—liar, cheater, hypocrite—and, worse, imagining her contempt.
“It’s time to go,” he told her. “I’m tired.”
“One sec,” Catherine said, kissing Beth on the cheek. “I want to say goodbye to Katie’s mother.” She took Hank by the arm and called “Wait,” to Gretel who had turned her back when she saw them coming. It was too late for Hank to get away.
“Yes?” Gretel said.
“I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your daughter. She’s a lovely girl. Thoughtful and sweet.” Catherine smiled at Gretel, said goodbye and went to speak to a friend.
Hank waited until Catherine was out of sight, then stepped in front of Gretel so she couldn’t leave. “You’re not getting away that easy,” he told her.
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