Read Online Desire Lines by Christina Baker Kline - Free Book Online Page B

looking good, Maggie?” her father says, a little too heartily.
Kathryn can feel Margaret’s appraising eyes. “Sure,” she says.
“You look like you’ve lost weight. Have you lost weight?” her father says.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Hey, I just remembered, Katy,” he says. “I’ve got something for you inside. I was going to send it to you, but now that you’re here … Where’s that article I cut out of the paper, Maggie?”
“You stuck it on the fridge. I’ll get it.” She puts down the apparatus and takes off her gloves.
“Why don’t we all just go inside for a moment, get something to drink?” he says. “Come on, Katy. How are things going?”
“Fine,” she says. “How about you?”
“Fine, just fine,” he says as they follow Margaret to the sliding doors and go inside. “How was the flight?”
“It was fine, Dad.”
Margaret goes into the kitchen and comes back with a flimsy piece of newspaper and hands it to him. He passes it to Kathryn. She glances it over. It’s a classified ad: Upward Bound instructors needed to teach disadvantaged kids during summer term at the university. She looks up. “Thanks, Dad, but I’m not really interested in teaching right now.”
“I thought you might be interested in earning some money.”
“I don’t even know how long I’m staying here.”
“Haven’t you gotten rid of that apartment in Virginia?”
“Yeah, but I could still move back there—or anywhere. I don’t know what my plans are yet.”
“I see.” He taps his fingers on the table. “Is Paul still in Charlottesville?”
She nods.
“Still working on that dissertation?”
“Um-hmm.”
“I’m just wondering what you’re doing for money these days. It’s not coming from Paul, I assume.”
“No. I didn’t take any money from him. There wasn’t all that much,anyway. I have a little saved up, which should last me a while. A little while, at least.”
“Who wants a Poland Spring?” Margaret asks, clasping her hands together.
“I’ll have one,” he says. “Katy?” She shakes her head. “Listen, honey,” he says to her, “you need to be thinking about your future. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I have thought about it,” she says stubbornly. She feels like a child.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. And you know, I’m not going to bail you out. I just don’t believe in it. I don’t want you to expect it.”
“Have I ever?” She looks at him for a moment, standing there in his Nike shorts and buttercup-yellow tennis shirt, tanned and fit, a band of white skin around his wrist where his Rolex belongs. “I think maybe I should be going.”
“Aw, Katy,” he says, reaching forward awkwardly and clasping her shoulders. “I just want what’s best for you. You know that, don’t you? And I want you to feel good about yourself. Can you blame me for that?”
“Of course not. But I just got divorced, Dad. I need some time to work it through.”
He shakes his head emphatically. “I can tell you right now, time is the last thing you need. You need to get busy.”
Margaret, appearing with a tray of bottled water and ice in a bucket, wrinkles her nose at Kathryn and smiles. “Listen to your father, Katy,” she says. “He’s always right on the mark about stuff like this.”
ON THE WAY home, Kathryn pulls off the highway and puts the car in park on a wide gravel shoulder. She closes her eyes and leans back against the headrest, breathing deeply and rubbing her temples with her fingers. Her father, she has to admit, is right to be concerned. Most people her age do seem to be more settled. She hears about their buyinghouses, having children, and holding down jobs, and she wonders if she will ever feel that she is capable of a normal life. How do people avoid getting mired in indecision, considering the potential for disaster, the probability that things will go wrong? Or is doubt a self-fulfilling prophecy? Do the people who proceed with optimism and good faith create