“That’s a problem with Kris Ann, isn’t it?”

“It can be.”

Henry’s face hardened. “What Roland did to Kris Ann was a terrible thing. It was unnatural—I don’t mean literally, but psychologically. I remember talking to her after her mother died. She was maybe seven or eight, wide-eyed and a little sad, and beautiful even then. She was talking about Margaret’s death like a child does, not quite understanding, and then she said Roland had told her that she could take her mother’s place and then they’d never need anyone else. She seemed excited and a little disturbed. God knows it disturbed me.

“Later it disturbed me more. Roland never showed interest in remarrying. Instead he devoted himself to becoming a local power and running Kris Ann’s life. He sent her to private schools and all those lessons—piano, dance, everything but art—as if he wanted to starve the thing she really cared about. And more and more he began to substitute her for her mother, using her as hostess, taking her to dinner, making her the central figure in his life, as he was in hers. Love or ego, whatever it was, he was too central. The result was rather sad: at times, Kris Ann would seem self-confident and even precocious, and then she’d shrink in his presence, as if he could turn all that off like a switch. I wouldn’t be surprised if on some level she resents him terribly.”

“If she does, I wouldn’t know it.”

“But then you’re very close to it, and you don’t know the background. Kris Ann grew up always comparing young men to her father, who intimidated them. Gradually the local boys learned to shy away. That had to be very difficult for her. One thing Lydia and I agreed on was that we were glad you came along. We thought perhaps you were strong enough to give Kris Ann a chance. I still think that.”

I shook my head. “It may be too late. I should never have moved here.”

“Roland takes over lives. I wanted to tell you that he needed you close because you were the one he couldn’t get rid of. But I didn’t know you then.”

“God, Henry, I wish you had.” I fumbled for a cigarette. “What was her mother like? Krissy hardly mentions her.”

He leaned back, empty snifter cupped in his hands. “Margaret was very much a lady, pretty in a delicate way and rather passive. That’s not an unusual choice in domineering men. She treated Roland like he hung the moon, which is what he wants. As for intellect or vitality, I’m afraid Kris Ann owes those to Roland. In any event, Margaret became ill with cancer and just withered away. And that left Kris Ann with Roland.”