Reprisal

North Carolina

Rafe was right about the stealing. It did get easier. It became so against her will.

With each little theft, Lisl had clung to the guilt, squeezed each incident for whatever remorse she could wring from it, but despite her best efforts the guilt dwindled, the remorse became brittle and desiccated to the point where it crumbled into a fine powder that ran through her fingers like sand.

She had changed. She saw so many things in a new perspective now. Her parents, for instance…

She had gone home for Christmas. There had been no way out. She hadn't wanted to leave Rafe but his own family had been tugging at him as well, so they separated for the holiday.

What a nightmare.

And what an eye-opener. She had never realized before how empty her parents were. How shallow, how narcissistic. After she arrived they'practically ignored her. All they seemed truly interested in was themselves. They'd wanted her home for the holidays, not out of any genuine desire for her company, but because having your only child home for Christmas was the way it should be. No real concern or interest in anything beyond their front door besides how they appeared to others.

The memory of Christmas night dinner was still fresh in her mind, how she had sat there and listened to them talk. All the pettiness, bitterness, jealousy disguised as wit. The subtle put-downs as they questioned her about how far she wanted to pursue this career thing, about remarrying and giving them grandchildren so they could keep up with their old friends the Andersons who now had three. She'd never seen it before, but these few months with Rafe had opened her eyes.

Depressing. And infuriating.

Lisl asked herself what these two people had ever really done for her as parents. They had fed her, clothed her, put a roof over her head—and she supposed there was something to be said for those benefits since not all parents did even that much for their children—but beyond the necessities of life, what had they given her? What had they passed on to her?

She'd realized with a shock that her life had no center. She'd been raised and sent out into the world without a compass. And unless she did something on her own to remedy that, she would remain emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually adrift.

The day after Christmas she had fled back to Pendleton. She'd been overjoyed to find Rafe waiting for her.

"All right," Rafe now said as they stood on the sidewalk down the street from Ball's Jewelry. They'd just completed their twenty-second shoplifting spree. "Who is the lucky passerby to receive our largess?"

Lisl scanned the faces of the post-Christmas shoppers and gift-returners as they flowed past. Then she glanced down at the gold butterfly pin in her hand, lifted from a counter in Ball's only moments before. She was enchanted by the delicate filigree of its wings.

"No one," she said.

Rafe turned to her, his eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

"I like this. I think I'll keep it."

The words shocked her. They seemed to have taken on a life of their own and escaped independent of her will. But they were the truth. She did want to keep this pin.

A slow smile spread across Rafe's face.

"No guilt? No remorse?"

Lisl searched within herself. No. She could find no guilt. The thefts had become routine, actually. More of a chore—an errand, almost—than anything else.

"No," she said, shaking her head and looking down at the gold butterfly. "And that frightens me."

"Don't be frightened."

Rafe took the pin from her, opened her coat, and pinned it on her sweater.

"Why not?" she said.

"Because this is a watershed, a cause for celebration."

"I feel like I've developed a callus on my soul."

"You' ve done nothing of the sort. That's the kind of thinking that holds you back. Negative imagery. It's not a matter of calluses. It's breaking free from your childhood shackles."

"I don't feel free."

"Because only one of those chains has fallen away. There are still more. Many more."

"I don't know if I want to hear this."

"Trust me."

Rafe took her arm and they began walking along Conway Street.

"Up till now," he said, "we've been engaging in faceless acts of liberation."

"Faceless? What's been faceless? There've been plenty of faces involved here."

"Not really. We've been stealing from stores. Faceless corporations that do not feel even the slightest prickle of discomfort from what we've done."

"You're not going to turn Marxist on me now, are you?"

Rafe's expression was disdainful. "Please don't insult my intelligence. No. What I mean is that from now on we're going to get personal."

Lisl didn't like the sound of that.

"What do you mean?"

"Not what—who. I'd rather show you than tell you. And I wish to do a little research first. Tomorrow will be soon enough." He opened the passenger door to his Maserati and bowed her toward the seat. "Your carriage awaits."

A small, cold lump formed in Lisl's stomach as she got in. Her relief that the thefts would stop was undercut by a growing unease about what would replace them.