F Wilson - Sibs

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.

"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.