One thing that I am worried about is Valentina’s reaction to Amelia. I’ve never tried my protocol on someone as young as Valentina, but I have no choice. I’ll have to try it when I pick her up from my father’s. The fact that she’s only three works in my favor. Memories from before that age are rarely accessible, as the hippocampus is not mature enough then to form and store them in a way that makes them retrievable later.
In the meantime, there is still plenty of work to do with the new Cassandra—I can’t think of her as Amelia any longer, lest I slip and call her that. Henceforth, I will only think of her as Cassandra.
I draw the shades, unzip my pants, and shrug out of my shirt, folding my clothes and putting them neatly on the chair. I pull down the covers on my side of the bed and get in next to her. She’s half asleep, but she responds to my caresses. Her arms encircle me, and she moves against me, moaning. She pushes me onto my back and sits astride me, her head forward, her long hair on my chest. The pleasure is so intense that I actually cry out, and as I do, I try to push away the disloyal thought that this Cassandra is much better in bed than the other one ever was.
As I lie there in a haze after we make love, I feel confident that I’ve made the right decision. In our sessions, I’ll convince her that she loves being at home, that all she needs is Valentina and me. Perhaps I can convince her that she’s come up with the idea of homeschooling. She won’t get crazy ideas about working and being more independent, like the first Cassandra did. She won’t need anybody but me. And I will never let her go.
??53??
Julian
Valentina is eagerly waiting on the porch for me when I arrive at my father’s house in New Hampshire to pick her up. As she runs to me, I lift her up and hug her tight. I’ve missed her more than I could have ever imagined, and I promise myself this will be the last time we’re separated for so long.
“My angel. Look at you. You’ve grown so much in just three months.”
She plasters my face with kisses. “You too, Daddy!”
I laugh and put her down. She hands me a bouquet of pink and orange flowers made of tissue paper. “I made this for you and Mommy.”
“I love it, and so will Mommy. She’s waiting for you at home.”
I was nervous leaving Cassandra behind; it’s the first time she’s been alone since I brought her home. But I’ve arranged for Nancy, the housekeeper I hired two months ago, to stay with her. Though I feel her transformation is complete, one never knows what might trigger a regression.
Valentina scrunches her face up. “No. I want her.”
Before I can answer, my father walks toward me. I notice that his gait is slower, his hair whiter, than just three months ago. For the first time I realize how much he’s aged. He holds out a hand to shake mine.
“Come have something to eat before you head back,” he says.
I’m anxious to be on my way, though; I have work to do. I’ve booked a hotel room on the way home, where Valentina and I can spend a little time preparing her to accept the mother she’s about to see. “Just a quick cup of coffee,” I say.
I follow him back into the cabin and take a seat at the kitchen table. “Why don’t you do one last drawing for your mommy out on the deck,” he says. “You won’t see the lake again until next year.” While he brews a cup for me, I marvel to see that the refrigerator is plastered with drawings and colored pages that Valentina has done. There are board games piled up on the coffee table, and toys stacked up in the corner. What he lacked as a father, he has more than made up for as a grandfather. He brings the cup over, and I notice that his hand shakes slightly.
“Thanks. I really appreciate your taking care of Valentina this summer.”
“I loved having her here. But I wanted to talk to you alone before you leave. She was very upset at the way her mother just left without saying goodbye. You know that’s not good for a child’s self-esteem.”
I’m momentarily stunned into silence, flashing back to the last time I saw my own mother before she executed her plan to end her life. I was only fourteen.
“Of course I know that.”
His eyes grow sad. I’m surprised when he reaches out a hand to cover mine. “I’m sorry, son. Of course you do. That was a careless thing to say. I know what your mother’s . . . absence did to you. I’m only worried about our sweet girl.”
The truth is, I’m worried about Valentina as well. It’s the reason I’ve taken such extreme measures. I won’t allow Valentina to suffer the way I have, to grow up without the loving hand of a mother guiding her. But of course I can’t say that to my father. I give him a weak smile.