3
I was holding my breath when the door began to open. I was anticipating that all-too-familiar smirk on her face the moment she saw me. Of course, I wanted to see her beaten down, defeated, even something that was so unfamiliar to her that she had trouble wearing it: a look of apology and regret. Instead, she was none of that. She was expressionless, almost indifferent, but I think what shocked me most was her hair.
It was as short as the hair on the wig I was wearing, practically the exact same length. Even though it was impossible, of course, I even wondered if Mother had called to tell her to have her hair cut. I still had the childhood fantasy that she could envision us both whenever she wanted to and wanted to be sure we were alike.
Haylee was dressed in a plain white short-sleeved blouse and a pair of dark blue jeans, with no socks and a pair of black slip-on sneakers. As I expected, she wore no makeup, not even lipstick. She was thinner than I had anticipated, and despite how long I had been in Anthony Cabot’s basement, in the hospital, and inside my house, she was paler than I was.
She hesitated and stared at me. The attendant who had brought her remained outside but closed the door, so we were now alone in the room, except, of course, for Dr. Alexander behind the mirror. Haylee glanced around and then looked at me without an iota of surprise, like I had been visiting her daily.
“Did you just get that dress?” she asked, as casually as she would if nothing at all had happened and we were still at home.
“Recently, yes.”
“Did Daddy buy two?”
“Hardly,” I said. “Why would he?”
She nodded, not even a small wrinkle at the corner of her lips. But I didn’t think she looked angry or even disappointed.
“When did you cut your hair?” I asked, not hiding my suspicions.
“Yesterday,” she said. At first, I thought she wasn’t going to sit. She gazed at herself in the mirror and brushed back what hair she had. “Does it look terrible? I only spent ten minutes on it.”
“You mean you literally cut it yourself?”
She spun around. “Attempted to. Someone else finished. They get hairstylists in training here to work on the poor jerks like me.” She started to circle the table. “Stand up. I want to see the dress.”
I did.
“Daddy bought you that without me whining for it or telling you to demand it?”
“I’m wearing it, aren’t I?”
“You don’t look bad at all,” she said, still trying to sound indifferent, but I thought I also heard disappointment. “Overall, you look very good. A little overly made up, maybe, but nice hairstyle. You would pass our famous Haylee inspection.”
“I did look bad,” I said. “Very bad. I’m wearing a wig. My hair was butchered—but not by a stylist in training.”
She shrugged and flopped into the chair across from me. “Whatever. It looks very nice, natural.”
“Whatever? It took me weeks to gain some of the weight I lost. There were times he starved me and times I couldn’t eat.”
She shrugged again. “I wouldn’t have noticed any weight loss if you hadn’t told me. I lost some weight, too.”
Her indifference triggered frustration inside me, frustration that felt like a hand tightening into a fist. “You lost some weight?” I said. “How unfortunate. Do you remember how long I was locked away?”
“Time is the stream I go fishing in,” she replied, following with a trickle of a laugh.
“What?”
“That essay on Thoreau we had to write—you had to write, I should say. I was so bored. I hated writing essays.”
“Essays? That’s what you’re thinking about now?”
“I can’t believe Daddy bought you that dress. I guess you’re his favorite now.”
“Can you blame him?”
She looked around and then directly at the mirror, but obviously not trying to see through it.
“I just woke up one morning and thought I should cut it,” she said, patting her hair again. “I was beginning to look too drab.” She turned back and stared at me a moment before she smiled. “You were always his favorite anyway, Kaylee. You didn’t know it, but I did. You were everyone’s favorite, even Mother’s. I learned that pretty quickly when you were gone.”
“Is that why you did it?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Why did I do it?”
“I don’t have a million dollars, but I’d like to know.”
“Why? Would it change anything?”
“I don’t know. How can I know the answer without knowing why?”
“Oh, you’re so . . . logical,” she said, and then, taking me by complete surprise, she burst out laughing. But it wasn’t simply laughing; it was a strange combination of laughing and crying, and it was loud, too, very loud, insanely loud.
I didn’t think she was going to stop. Tears were streaking down her cheeks. She gasped and laughed, looked up and then at me, and laughed again.
“You’re . . . so . . . logical. You always were. You’re so . . . Kaylee Blossom Fitzgerald,” she said. She stopped smiling. “Why? Why? Why? Why?”
She started to chant. “Look at you, look at you. You look good. You lied. You pretended to be abducted. Where were you? Logical Kaylee? Where were you? Watching us all the time and laughing?”
“Stop it,” I said. “You know very well where I was and why.”
“Yes, why? Why? Why?” She sat there smiling.
“Aren’t you even a little sorry?” I asked.
“Sorry? Everyone feels sorrier for you, don’t they? You don’t need me, too. You have everyone’s full attention now, don’t you? Thank you. I’d like to hear a thank you.”
“Thank you? Don’t you have any idea what happened to me? You think I went on a picnic?”
“What happened to you, yes. Everyone wants to know what happened to you, right? Yes? Questions. We get questions, only you get the most. I get only Why? Why? Why? I hear it even in my sleep.”
“So what’s the answer?”
“There’s no answer. Don’t you understand? There’s no answer. There’s never been an answer.” She hugged herself and looked up at the ceiling.
“You haven’t asked about Mother,” I said.
She continued to stare at the ceiling for another moment and then lowered her head and leaned toward me. “Mother is in here,” she whispered. “I don’t have to ask about her. Mother is with me. I’ve got Mother now. You know why? Why? Why? Because she wants to know why, too.”
She laughed.
“Mother wants to know more than anyone else, so she’s here,” she said, and pressed her right hand over her heart. “She’s right here, and she won’t leave until she gets the answer. Anyway, you can’t have her back. You can’t have her without me. It’s not logical, Logical Kaylee.”
“Mother’s not here,” I said. “I know exactly where she is. I’ve visited her. She’s not well. She’s suffered a lot, Haylee. I feel sorrier for her than I do for myself, and you should, too.”
She stared at me hard, her eyelids narrowing. “She’s here,” she said. “Here.” She pressed her hand even harder against her heart.
“No, she’s in a hospital. Stop pretending you don’t know what I mean. She had a nervous breakdown, Haylee. You knew that. You knew why Daddy had to come back home to live with you.”
She shook her head.
“Did you hear what I said? You’ve got to stop lying, Haylee, to everyone and to yourself. You’re hurting only yourself now. Why did you do this to me? What did I do to you that you should have wanted to hurt me so much?”
She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “You don’t look like me anymore, Kaylee. You’re prettier than I am now, but Mother can’t stand that, I’m sure.” She leaned forward to whisper. “Did you forget how she wants us to be? You’re killing her by being so much prettier than me. You’re the one giving her the nervous breakdown now.”
Her lips began to tremble. “You’re killing her,” she said, and started to cry. Then she began to rock in her chair, hugging herself again. “It’s cold here, isn’t it? Why? I’m tired. Why? You look very good. Why?”
“Stop it,” I said. “You’re just trying to avoid answering me.”
She stopped rocking, but she sat there, her arms locked around herself, and stared at me.
“I came to talk to you sensibly, Haylee. I almost died. I did everything I could to survive, but it was horrible, nights without sleep, chained, my very breathing controlled. You knew it would be horrible. You knew him, and you left me there.”
What surprised me about the way she was staring at me was that she didn’t even blink. It was as if I were looking at a picture of her face.
“Do you hear me?”
She didn’t move; she didn’t stop staring.
“Haylee,” I said sharply. “Cut it out. You know I can tell when you’re pretending. Stop it!”
There was no reaction.
“Stop!” I screamed, and slapped the top of the table so hard that I hurt my palm.
Still, she didn’t move, didn’t even wince.
I looked at the mirror, and a few moments later, the door opened, and Dr. Alexander came in with two male attendants. She looked at me first.
“Please return to my office,” she said.
“What?” I looked at Haylee. She still hadn’t moved, nor had anything changed on her face. “Stop it, Haylee,” I said. “You have to talk to me.”
“Please,” Dr. Alexander said, but sharply. “Return to my office.”
I rose slowly. Haylee’s eyes didn’t follow me. She sat there looking forward, as if I were still in front of her. I started out, looking back at her. Dr. Alexander put her hand on Haylee’s shoulder, but she didn’t turn. I hesitated in the doorway, and then Dr. Alexander looked at me.
“Return to my office,” she commanded. “Now!”
I hurried out and down the hallway, almost as terrified as I had been in Anthony Cabot’s basement. My heart was racing, and I was gasping for breath.
“Something happened,” I told my father as soon as I entered the office and he looked up. I was crying now, too.
“What?” He leaped to his feet. “What’s wrong? What happened? What did she do to you?”
“We started talking, and then she stopped and just stared at me. She didn’t even blink. It was horrible. She froze. It was a nightmare,” I said, and continued to cry.
He quickly embraced me. “I knew this was a mistake. I knew it,” he said, holding me against him.
“I couldn’t tell whether she was acting or not, Daddy. I couldn’t tell. She was so weird. She said so many crazy things. She told me Mother was here, with her.”
He led me to the settee. “All right. Take it easy. I’ll see what I can find out,” he said. “Just stay right there. I’ll get you a glass of water, too.”
I covered my face with my palms and sat there. A few minutes went by before he returned with a glass of water for me.
“Did you see Dr. Alexander?” I asked, and drank.
“No. An attendant told me to wait here,” he said. “He got me your water.”
He sat beside me and held my hand. I could see the anger boiling in his face, but I didn’t know what to say to calm him. I was still too stunned. Almost ten full minutes went by before Dr. Alexander came to her office. My father continued to mumble under his breath, blaming himself. We both turned to the doctor when she entered.
“What happened?” my father demanded, even before she closed the door.
She didn’t speak. She went behind her desk as if she wanted to keep it between us like a barrier and sat.
“I want to know exactly what’s going on now,” my father insisted.
“Please,” she said, nodding at the settee.
He and I sat.
“Well?” he asked.
“Your daughter has been suffering periodic catatonia,” she began.
I stopped my sniffling but held on to my father’s hand.
“Catatonia?” my father asked.
“It’s generally described as an abnormality of movement and behavior arising from a disturbed mental state.”
“What mental state?”
“In her case, I’m pretty positive it’s schizophrenia, Mr. Fitzgerald. I think she’s been suffering with it for some time. Some time before she was brought here,” she added.
My father sat back, his anger checked, but he was far from satisfied. “I didn’t see any of this catatonia when I visited the last time,” he said.
“It was coming on. You weren’t here frequently enough to notice the developing symptoms.” It didn’t sound like a criticism but more like a simple fact. “Catatonia can take different forms. In Haylee’s case, it takes the form of rigidity. If it took the other form, catatonic excitement or excessive movement, she’d be taking violent action against herself. We should be grateful for little things,” she added, which I guessed was her attempt to lighten the mood.
My father didn’t look like he appreciated it. “So exactly what just happened with Kaylee?” he asked.
“Disappointingly, the confrontation was too much for Haylee. She went into a catatonic stupor. She was, and still is at this moment, mute and rigid.”
“How long will she be like this?” he asked.
“It’s hard to say. It could last a while, even though a prolonged period would be painful. If it goes on too long this time, I’ll put her on some medication that will help, but the principal cause of it is what we’ll be spending most of our time on now.”
“You said schizophrenia?”
“There are complicated things happening to her right now, Mr. Fitzgerald. One of them is, naturally, her paranoia. She believes everyone, even people who don’t know her, knows what she has done and is out to harm her in some way. I was hoping that confronting Kaylee might ease that symptom.”
“Maybe it did,” my father said hopefully. He looked more like a parent concerned about his child now.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Fitzgerald. What I saw was a reinforcement of her deeply seated sibling rivalry. She was hoping to be stronger, prettier perhaps, considering what Kaylee has experienced, but instead, Haylee suffered some deeper disappointment. She was not prettier.”
“But she cut her own hair,” I said. “She didn’t want to be pretty.”
“Contradictions. Yes. She was punishing herself, but I think when she entered the room, she was anticipating you would still look worse. As I said . . . in her eyes, you were the one who had suffered.”
My father’s eyes narrowed for a moment. He glanced at me and then back at Dr. Alexander. “She doesn’t feel any guilt, then. Is that what you’re saying? We shouldn’t have come after all,” he said. “There was nothing good that could come of it.”
“Maybe not. I was, as I said, hoping for some retreat in these symptoms, especially the paranoia.”
She turned to me.
“You and your sister have had such an unusual relationship. It was and remains perhaps only you who can get to her. She wants that, but she resents it, too. Complicated,” she said again. It was beginning to annoy me. It seemed like an easy way out, an explanation for everything.
“What will happen to her now?” I asked.
“More intense therapy.” She leaned forward. “Did you know how your sister would react to your looking so pretty, Kaylee? You do know each other so well, better than most sisters know each other, right? Is that why you wore that obviously sexy dress and made up your face before you came? You wanted some sort of revenge?”
“Stop that!” my father snapped instantly, and he stood. “I won’t permit an iota of guilt to be placed at this girl’s feet after what her sister did to her. You read her psychiatrist’s report.”
“Did you really come here to see whether you and your sister could stop hating each other, Kaylee?” she pursued, ignoring my father.
“Yes,” I said. “I did. I’m sorry if everything’s become . . . more complicated now.”
My father reached for my hand so that I would stand, too. “That’s enough,” he said. “I’ll be in touch. Perhaps through my attorney.”
He almost physically turned me toward the door.
“It’s important that you and I talk again, Kaylee,” Dr. Alexander called to me, totally ignoring my father. “When you’re ready.”
“Go,” my father ordered, opening the door.
I didn’t look back. He closed the door behind us.
“Psychiatry is a form of voodoo,” he muttered as we walked back to the lobby.
He was walking so quickly now that we almost didn’t stop for the guard at the front entrance. Apparently, he had to take back our visitor passes and check to be sure an inmate wasn’t being smuggled out. He wanted to see my license again and look at me, but I could have told him that it wouldn’t do him much good.
We were identical in too many ways.
I had the odd feeling that in a sense, I was being left back there and Haylee was the one walking out with my father.
Neither of us spoke until we were off the grounds and well on our way home.
“Under no circumstances do I want you returning here to see that woman,” he said. “These people can screw with your mind so much they can turn you into mental cripples. They’re always looking for ways to excuse the guilty, especially here. They should call the place Palace Equivocation or Palace Excuse Abuse,” he said. He was so angry that he was talking through clenched teeth.
“And did you hear the way she gave me that little dig about not visiting enough?” he added, turning to me. “Like I don’t have enough on my hands visiting your mother and having consultations with her doctor and making sure you’re going to be all right while trying to hold on to my business. Who put Haylee in that place? Certainly not me. She put herself there with her deceitful, evil actions.”
He went into his silent thoughts a while and then seemed to calm. After taking a few deep breaths, he turned to me. “I’m sorry. I should be worrying about how you are, not how she is.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to see her. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was too soon.”
“Sure, I was right. I don’t care what Dr. Alexander says. And I told you I wasn’t going to let her hurt you anymore. I’m sorry. You just put it out of your mind for now. We’ll concentrate on what’s best for you and not spend any more time worrying about her.”
“I’m all right, Daddy.”
“Sure. You’re strong. You’re the strong one after all.” He took another deep breath. “I have to see your mother’s doctor tomorrow. We might be bringing her home.”
“Really?” This was a surprise. He hadn’t hinted at it. Maybe he was waiting to see the results of this visit first.
“We’ll see. I want you to think about that prep school now, Kaylee. I want you out of this whole thing as soon as possible. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” I said.
He shook his head and then smiled. “What say you and I have some of that Thai food you love tonight? We’ll go to that place in Philly, okay?”
“Okay.”
He sat back. “You’ll be fine,” he said, nodding. “You’ll be just fine, Kaylee. Once you start somewhere new, you’ll do just fine.”
Would I? I wondered. Maybe.
But was Dr. Alexander right to ask if I had really gone there to see if Haylee and I would stop hating each other? Did she allow me to come so she could observe me almost as much as Haylee? Was she smarter than my father thought?
I couldn’t say I was unhappy that he didn’t want me to return to see her.
The truth was, I was afraid to see her anymore.
I was even afraid to look at myself in a mirror right now.
If I did, I was sure I wouldn’t see any regrets or any sadness about Haylee going into catatonic states. I felt good about it, actually. I felt as good as Haylee would surely feel if the roles were reversed, as Mother once proposed.
Thai food sounded very good. In fact, my new future sounded very good.
For the first time, I thought I might be able to have a future without thinking about Haylee every day.
I might not think of her at all once I was gone.
I remembered years ago one of Mother’s friends saying we were so like conjoined twins that it would take an operation to separate us.
Maybe that just happened, I thought . . . I hoped. A mental operation, but one just as effective.
It was something I felt my father obviously wanted for me, too. When we got home, he did some work, and I went to my room to rest and change into something I thought was more appropriate to wear to dinner with him. I wasn’t sure I would ever wear the sexy dress again. It would bring back the memory of what I had just experienced or, perhaps more accurately, what I had just done.
I chose a simple black dress and wore only lipstick. I saw that he was pleased. It was as if I had put away my anger, locked it in some drawer to forget it. On our way to Philly, he began to talk about some of his business ventures. It was almost like old times before he had divorced Mother, back when we were something of a happy little family.
He was behaving as if he had gotten a weight off his back, too. I hadn’t seen him so up since I had returned from the hospital.
Once we were in the restaurant and had ordered our food, my father sat back, looking thoughtful again. I thought perhaps he had received darker news about Mother than he had anticipated and she wasn’t coming home after all, but as it turned out, he had other things on his mind.
“The thing about unexpected events that can impact your life is just that, they’re unexpected,” he began. I imagined he was going to start talking again about how what Haylee had done had taken him by such surprise, but he surprised me by smiling. “Sometimes those can be good things.”
The waiter brought his drink and my Arnold Palmer. I was happy that I wasn’t on any medications anymore, but it wasn’t so I could sneak some of my father’s alcohol to drink like Haylee and I occasionally used to do. He sipped his drink and leaned forward, as if we had to be sure no one could overhear our conversation. What great secret was he about to tell me?
“I’ve met someone new,” he said. “I’ve held back telling you until I was more confident in your recuperation.”
“Someone new?”
“Actually, she’s been working for us in accounting. We hit it off immediately. Her name is Dana Cartwell. She’s not a divorcée,” he quickly added, as if he thought I believed that was the only sort of woman he could date. “She was engaged once but, as she says, woke up before it was too late. She has a great sense of humor. I think you’re going to like her.”
“If you do, I’m sure I will, Daddy,” I said.
He smiled, took another sip of his drink, and sat back.
I imagined he was holding his breath the whole time. It struck me how much of an emotional minefield we were all living in now. I was sure he was afraid I would think he was deserting me just when I needed him the most. How could he spend his emotions on anyone new, especially at this critical time? Most children of divorced couples resented it when one or both of their parents started new relationships. After all, how much love was there to go around? This was especially true for me under these terrible circumstances.
However, deep in my heart, I knew things couldn’t last the way they were. Mother was going to come home; he would leave to live in his own apartment again. He would be more active in his work, and as soon as the prep school was all set up for me, I would leave as well. At this moment, of course, I didn’t know what condition Mother would be in and how she could get along with everyone out of the house.
“Nothing will change between us,” he promised. “I’ll pay so much attention to you that you’ll have me reported for stalking.”
I laughed. It suddenly occurred to me that I really hadn’t done much laughing lately. I also wished now that I had something stronger than an Arnold Palmer to drink and might ask to sneak a little of his vodka and tonic.
“Does Dana know all about us?”
I realized that knowing all about us took in quite a lot. How could anyone digest it and still want to be with him?
“Pretty much,” he said. “You can’t work for our company and not know the horror we’ve endured. She wasn’t nosy or anything like that. I just felt comfortable talking to her about it. That’s how you know you’re with someone special, when you don’t feel you have to disguise things or tell half-truths.”
Our food began arriving.
“And all that didn’t scare her away?”
“Not yet,” he said. There was a lot more he had to tell her, obviously. “She’s a pretty centered woman—and pretty, too, on the inside as well as the outside.”
I forced a smile.
How do you tell your father that you’re happy he’s found someone to love other than your mother? No matter how open-minded and mature you think you are, it’s still a strange feeling when you do congratulate him. You can’t help thinking you’re betraying your mother, and you hate the idea of another female taking your father’s attention and devotion from you, but if you love him, you also can’t help but be happy he’s found some happiness, too.
“I look forward to meeting her, Daddy,” I said.
“And she feels the same about meeting you. You’ll like her, I’m sure. So let’s eat,” he said, and began dishing out the food we had ordered.
A couple of hours later, we were on our way home, both of us quiet now, settling into our own thoughts.
Later, in my room, I couldn’t help it.
I sat in front of my mirror and tried to be catatonic. I was close to what I saw Haylee do but not perfectly the same.
It was real, I thought. She wasn’t putting on any act.
She was locking herself up in herself.
And in a way, she was finally escaping.
But to what?