The Taming (24 page)

Evan stepped towards me, all proud and glorious. He hesitated and smiled encouragingly, almost secretly so that Travis couldn’t see that he was doing it as Evan, not Petruchio. And in that moment, I knew that whatever else was going on, or would happen, I knew that I loved him and always would. He had given me so much. I exhaled.

 …And place your hands below your husband’s foot
.
In token of which duty, if he please
,
My hand is ready to do him ease
.

Evan grabbed me possessively by the crook of my arm. “
Why there’s a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate
.”

He pulled me into him hungrily. At the exact moment we kissed, Ms. Cooper, Travis, Lisa, Hortensio, Lucentio and the entire backstage crew, including Danny, all stood up and clapped. We’d nailed it. I was his, to do with as he wished. Petruchio and Evan and the entire company knew it, felt it and believed it right then and there.

I
was
an actress, after all.

Chapter Forty

I
pulled the car off to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” Katie asked.

“I thought we’d just stop for a bit. Have a little private time.”

“This is hardly private,” she said. “It’s a public street.”

“It’s also dark and I don’t see any public around. We can have a few minutes to ourselves … to talk … or whatever.”

I could tell by her reaction that she was feeling unsure.

“Dear Katherina, remember your strength is in obedience. Submit to your husband,” I said, paraphrasing from our play.

I reached over, put my arm around her and moved forward. She pulled away.

“What’s wrong with you?” I snapped, expelling a sudden wave of anger. I could feel her whole body tense. “I mean … what’s wrong, baby?” This time my voice was soft and soothing and caring.

“It’s just that I’m not comfortable. That’s all.”

“You haven’t been very
comfortable
lately at all,” I replied.

“I guess it’s just all the pressure with the play. I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“We’re going to be standing in front of hundreds of people, and what if it goes wrong or—”

“It’s not going to go wrong. You’re going to be brilliant,” I said.

“Thanks.”

“Maybe this is the point where you should tell me that I’m going to be brilliant as well.”

“Of course you are!” she exclaimed. “I just didn’t think you needed to hear it. You know how good you’re going to be.”

I laughed. “That’s what I was trying to show you before you pulled away … how good I
can
be.”

“You know what I mean. You just seem so confident all the time,” she said.

“That’s the secret. To act confident even when you’re not.”

“Why would you ever be unconfident? You’re so good at
everything
.”

“Nobody is good at everything,” I said. “Besides, no matter how good you are there are always some people who think you’re not good enough.”

“Nobody could ever think that of you,” she said.

“You should talk to my old man,” I snapped, then wished I hadn’t. “But I didn’t pull over to talk about my screwed up father. How about giving your Petruchio some
comfort
before I drive you home?”

She shook her head. “I just … just … not here … not now.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Between the darkness and the tint on the windows nobody could see us, even if there were somebody out there walking, and there isn’t.”

“Not now. Please. There’ll be time later, or, or …”

I felt a rising surge of anger, fuelled by a sense of rejection—I pictured opening the door again and pushing her out of the car. “Sure, that’s what photos are for,” I muttered. Mistake, wrong tense.

Katie’s face clouded, confused. “What?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.” She’d heard but hadn’t heard clearly enough.

I pulled out the key and shoved it into the ignition.

“Evan, please, don’t be angry with me,
please
.”

“What makes you think I’m angry?” I asked through clenched teeth. “Why would my girlfriend pushing me away, rejecting me, not wanting to be with me make me angry?”

“Please, Evan, it’s not you, it’s me,” she said.

“I’ve heard about people using that line, but I never thought it would be used on me!”

“It’s not a line, and it’s not you. It’s just not the right place,” she said.

“Then where is the right place?”

“Some place … more private,” she said. “Because of the play, my mother isn’t going away or else we could—”

“My parents are going out Friday night. Some important charity shindig. You could come over. We’d have the place to ourselves,” I said.

She hesitated. “Sure, that would be … that would be good.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled by the idea.”

“It’s just that I’m going to be so exhausted and—”

“Nobody is asking you to run a marathon. I’m sorry you think it’s such hard work to be with me!” I started the car.

“Wait!” she said, putting a hand on my hand. “Maybe we could spend a little time here … it is sort of private.”

“Don’t do me any
favours
.”

I put the car in gear and pulled out onto the road. I caught a sideways glance at her expression. She looked surprised, shocked and a little bit hurt. I didn’t care. I was back in control. She’d asked to make out and I’d turned
her
down.

We drove along in silence. It was an unspoken contest about not speaking. The first one to speak would lose. I knew that. I was just surprised that either she knew it or she wasn’t willing to give in by talking, by apologizing. What exactly was going on here? Hadn’t I just reestablished the upper hand?

I pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment.

“Thanks for the drive, Evan.”

I’d won.

“No problem. Ever.”

She leaned over to kiss me, but I didn’t face her. She hesitated and then kissed me on the cheek. “I really love you,” she said.

“That’s nice.” I knew what I was supposed to say, but I wasn’t going to say it.

She climbed out of the car and started away. I knew she was close to tears. I hit the button and opened the passenger-side window.

“Katie!” I called out.

She stopped and turned around and came back to the car. She leaned into the window.

“Yes?” she asked, expectantly.

“Do you know why I’m not nervous about the play?” I asked.

“Because you know you’re going to do so well?”

I shook my head. “I’m not nervous because I don’t care what the audience, or my parents, or Travis or any of them think about my performance. I only care what
one
person thinks … you.”

I could see her whole expression change—she was still close to tears but they were for a different reason.

“And the sad part is that that person doesn’t feel the same way about me,” I said. “She cares more about what they think than what I think.”

Her eyes filled. I drove away before she could see that she wasn’t the only one in tears.

Chapter Forty-One

I
pulled into the driveway. Great, my father’s car was there—he was home. For a few seconds I thought about just driving away, but there really was no point. He probably wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

I turned on the little interior light and looked in the mirror. I used the back of my hand and my sleeve to wipe away the remaining evidence of tears. My eyes were still red, but that could have meant anything. If I was lucky they’d just think I’d been smoking dope.

I opened the front door and my father’s voice boomed down the hall. He was angry, giving somebody a piece of his mind. Whoever was on the other end of that phone call was being ripped to shreds and—I heard my mother sobbing. I rushed into the living room. She was on the sofa, and he was standing over her, yelling at her at the top of his lungs.

They both saw me at the same instant. They looked surprised, but he also looked angry, and she looked scared and ashamed.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, surprised by my own outburst.

“Just go to your room!” my father yelled. “This is none of your business!”

I started to turn to leave and then stopped. “Mom, are you all right?”

“I told you to go to your room!” he yelled.

He took a few steps towards me. In the past that would have been enough. This wasn’t the past. I walked towards him, brushed by, and he grabbed me by the arm and spun me around.

“You really think you’re man enough to take me on?” he demanded.

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”

“Please, don’t!” my mother called.

“Shut up!” he yelled at her. “He can’t hide behind his mommy forever!”

“No one is hiding. I’m right here in front of you.”

“You think I won’t hit you?” he screamed.

“Please, I just don’t—”

“You think I won’t hit either of you!” he yelled, cutting my mother off.

“Do you think I won’t hit you back if you do?” I asked. “Do you think I’m going to stand here and let you hit her?” I paused. “I’m not a little kid any more,” I said, my voice surprisingly calm.

I put myself directly between him and her.

He laughed. I hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Big man. He thinks because he can manhandle a couple of sixteen-year-old girls he can take
me
on. I’ll drop you on the spot!”

I felt that sting. Deeply. That was what he wanted, of course. I tried not to let him see it.

“Go ahead,” I said, my voice still quiet. “Take the first swing … and I’ll take the last.”

His expression broke—for a brief second his confidence and swagger were gone before he recovered. It was too late, I’d seen it. I balled my fingers into fists and took a half-step closer. He didn’t retreat, but he didn’t move forward.

“I’m going out,” he said. He started for the door.

I felt my whole body relax—I’d
won—
he was leaving and—he stopped and spun around. He looked directly at my mother. “I’ve said everything I need to say, and if I have to say it again I’ll be using more than words.”

“You leave her alone or else!”

“Or else what? Or else I’ll kick you both out of
my
house? Or else you won’t have a car to drive? Or else you won’t have money for university?” He sneered. “Don’t think that because you stood up to me I’m impressed. You’re still just a boy … a momma’s boy.”

He turned and left. My mother started sobbing again. I dropped down to my knees in front of her.

“It’s okay,” I said softly.

She looked at me. I looked back. I searched for signs that he’d hit her. I didn’t see any marks or bruises.

“You don’t have to put up with this,” I said.

She opened her mouth to say something but instead started to sob even louder.

I wrapped my arms around her. I wanted to tell her that I would protect her, that I’d take care of her, but could I really? And then I thought about what a terrible person he was, and how he treated her this way … and then I realized that I wasn’t that much different from him. And that was the best reason for hating him … and hating myself as well.

Chapter Forty-Two