Mirror Image

Dorothy Rae had mentioned the babies she had lost the night Carole’s abortion had come to light. Later, Avery had gleaned the details from Fancy. So much of Dorothy Rae’s unhappiness was now understandable. Avery leaned across the plush car seat, appealing to Dorothy Rae to listen. “Fancy is courting disaster. She needs you. She needs her father. She needs someone to take a firm hand. If Jack weren’t so worried about your drinking, maybe he would devote more time and attention to being a parent. I don’t know.

“But I do know that unless you do something, and quickly, she’ll keep on behaving the way she does—doing outrageous thin

gs just so she’ll get noticed. One of these days, she’ll go too far and harm herself.”

Dorothy Rae pushed back a strand of lank hair and assumed a defensive posture. “Fancy’s always been a handful—more than Jack and I could handle. She’s got a willful personality. She’s just being a teenager, that’s all.”

“Oh, really? A teenager? Did you know that she came home the other night after having taken a beating from a guy she picked up in a bar? Yes,” Avery emphasized when she saw Dorothy Rae pale with disbelief.

“I’m being an armchair psychologist, but I believe Fancy thinks she deserves no better than that. She thinks she’s unworthy of being loved because no one has ever loved her, though she’s tried every means she knows to get your attention.”

“That’s not true,” Dorothy Rae said, shaking her head in obstinate denial.

“I’m afraid it is. And there’s more.” Avery decided to throw caution to the wind. She was, after all, pleading for a young woman’s life. “She’s sleeping with Eddy Paschal.”

“I don’t believe you,” Dorothy Rae wheezed. “He’s old enough to be her father.”

“I saw her coming out of his hotel room in Houston weeks ago.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It was dawn, Dorothy Rae. You could tell by looking at her what she’d been doing all night. I have every reason to believe the affair is still going on.”

“He wouldn’t.”

It was a sad commentary that Dorothy Rae didn’t question her daughter’s morality, only that of the family friend. “He is.”

Dorothy Rae took several moments to assimilate this information, then her eyes narrowed on Avery. “You’re a fine one to cast stones at my daughter.”

“You miss my point,” Avery said. “I’m not judging Fancy’s morals. I’m worried about her. Do you think a man like Eddy is interested in her except for one reason? In light of his friendship with Tate, do you think he’ll continue this relationship for any length of time or let it develop into something more meaningful? No.

“What really concerns me is that Fancy considers herself in love with him. If he dumps her, the rejection would only reinforce her low opinion of herself.”

Dorothy Rae laughed scornfully. “If anything, my daughter has a high opinion of herself.”

“Is that why she picks up strangers and lets them work her over? Is that why she hops from man to man and lets them use her any way they like? Is that why she has set her cap for a man she can’t possible have?” Avery shook her head no. “Fancy doesn’t like herself at all. She’s punishing herself for being unlovable.”

Dorothy Rae picked at the shredding tissue. Softly, she said, “I never had much control over her.”

“Because you don’t have control over yourself.”

“You’re cruel, Carole.”

Avery wanted to take the woman in her arms and hold her. She wanted to say, “No, I’m not cruel. I’m not. I’m telling you this for your own good.”

Instead, she responded as Carole might. “I’m just tired of being blamed for the lousy state of your marriage. Be a wife to Jack, not a sniveler.”

“What would be the use?” she sighed dejectedly. “Jack hates me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You know why. Because he thinks I tricked him into marrying me. I really did think I was pregnant. I was late.”

“If Jack hated you,” Avery argued, “would he have stayed married to you all these years? Would he have come back after a six-month separation?”

“If Nelson told him to,” she said sadly.

Ah. Jack always did what his father told him to. He was bound to his wife by duty, not love. He was the workhorse; Tate was the Thoroughbred. The imbalance could breed a lot of contempt. Maybe Jack had figured out a way to get back at his brother and the parents who favored him.