“You’re not even half through it, you know, and I read fast when I’m really interested in what I’m reading.”
I nodded, thinking about how I did labor over some sentences and events, always trying to imagine how Cathy was feeling. “I guess so.”
“And I read another page before I realized it. I’ll reread it tomorrow . . . aloud. Up in the attic,” he added, and closed his textbook. “I’d better get going. I forgot to call my mother to tell her I wasn’t coming home for dinner,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ve done it before, and it’s never a big shock, anyway. Tell your father good night for me.”
He gave me a very quick kiss on the cheek and a playful pat on the top of my head.
I was expecting him to kiss me before he left, but not like a brother.
* * *
I had been nervous while Kane was reading the diary to catch up with me, so I hadn’t done my homework as quickly as I could. I had some left to complete. Nevertheless, I went down to sit with my father while he ate. He was surprised Kane had left so early.
“Maybe he really was here just to do homework,” he playfully suggested.
“Did the new owner come around again?” I asked, again looking to change the topic quickly.
“He did.”
I could see that he was into one of his deep thoughts again because of my question, a thought he wasn’t eager to reveal to me.
“What?” I asked.
“You still reading that diary?”
I was surprised he asked. He had told me recently that he wouldn’t inquire about it anymore and that when I was finished, he wanted me to give it back to him. I had the feeling he really would burn it, so I was debating whether I ever would give it to him.
“On and off,” I said, as nonchalantly as I could. The words almost got stuck in my throat.
“Has there been any mention of anyone else in the house? I mean other than their mother, grandmother, and grandfather?”
“Well, servants are mentioned but not by name,” I said.
“No one specifically, then?”
“Not yet as far as I have read. Why? Who do you think was there? Someone from town knew about them?”
“It’s not important,” he said, and continued eating.
“If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t mention it,” I said.
He shook his head. “I swear, Kristin, if I closed my eyes when you were talking sometimes, I’d think your mother was sitting there.”
Whenever he said anything like that, making comparisons between my mother and me to point out how much I was like her, I felt the struggle between two conflicting emotions, happiness and sadness. I loved the idea that I was anything like her, but just the reference to her stirred the well of tears that would forever be there, ready to rise and overflow before I could do anything to stop them. If I cried in front of my father, he would cry all night, I thought, and turned away.
He didn’t say anything else about it, and I didn’t pursue it. Don’t bring up the diary, I told myself. In fact, don’t bring up Foxworth Hall if you can help it until you and Kane are finished reading the diary.
I cleared away his dishes and did everything that had to be done in the kitchen before I returned to my room to finish my homework. I knew I wasn’t giving it my best. I was rushing now, because I didn’t want him to know how distracted I had been. He knew how responsible I was and how dedicated I was to getting my schoolwork done and done well. He would never suspect the diary, especially because Kane was there. He would think it was because of something else, obviously something that had to do with my private time with Kane. I was confident that he wouldn’t come right out and ask, “Did you guys spend all your time doing assignments from your teachers, or did you come up with your own homework?” He could tease a little, skirt around it by asking me to tell him how serious we were becoming, but making reference to something explicitly sexual just wasn’t something my father would do. He wasn’t a prude. He was just a shy man who was left to do and worry about things my mother was supposed to handle.
The irony was that we had done nothing my girlfriends were suspecting we did. All the girls believed that Kane was not timid about making love, and we’d been alone in my bedroom. Not only them but any parent would suspect more intimacy. All my girlfriends talked about the suspicions their parents had. Suzette went so far as to tell us her mother had given up on her, telling her not to expect her to come rushing in to rescue her. “You’re old enough to know better,” she’d said.
My father would never say such a thing, no matter what I did, I thought.
Before I went to sleep, I went down to wake him up and tell him it was time to go to sleep. It was a constant joke between us. He’d watch television and drift off. I would turn it off, and he’d wake up surprised. Then he would kiss me and go to his room to sleep with his memories.
I got into bed and lowered my head to the pillow, Christopher’s words rambling on under it, below me in the forbidden diary.
And Kane’s questions and thoughts rambling right along with them.