Dancing in the Dark

“No,” Gina said, although that wasn’t entirely true. She was concerned about Wendy, but not about her safety. There was no reason to be. Howard wasn’t worried about their daughter’s safety, either, but it was easier to pretend that was what they were talking about. “Why should I be? Wendy’s fine. She called to say she wouldn’t be home, and then she phoned a second time to let us know she’d be back by early evening.”

“She stayed out the entire night!”

“Yes, she did,” Gina said mildly. “Sit down, Howard. How about peeling some potatoes?”

She put six small potatoes, a bowl and a paring knife on the counter. Howard shook his head as he sat down.

“It’s not right that she stayed out all night. What will people think?”

“They’ll think Wendy is old enough to live her life as she pleases.”

He took a potato from the counter. “That boy is taking advantage of her.”

“Seth isn’t a boy,” Gina said mildly.

“Our daughter is emotionally vulnerable right now.” A long paring dropped on the counter. Gina pulled some paper towels from the roll, put them on the counter and dumped the potato skin on them. “Being home for the first time in years, waiting for the chance to talk to Pommier... It’s the wrong time for her to get involved with that boy all over again.”

“He’s a man,” Gina said, “and our daughter is a woman, and if they want, as you put it, ‘to get involved’ all over again, that’s their business.”

“They’re wrong for each other.”

“Cut those potatoes in quarters, please.”

“Did you hear me, Gina? That boy—that man—and our daughter don’t belong together.”

“We had this same discussion years ago, Howard. I didn’t agree with you then and I don’t agree with you now.”

Howard dumped chunks of peeled potato into the bowl. “She shouldn’t be starting this nonsense with him all over again.”

“It isn’t nonsense.”

“Of course it is.”

“Are you done with those potatoes yet?”

“Is that all you can think about? Potatoes? I’m talking about something serious, for God’s sake!”

“I know you are, Howard. I just don’t see the sense in arguing.”

“Our daughter came home for a reason. An important reason, and that’s what she should be concentrating on.”

“The operation you want her to have.”

“The operation she wants to have!”

Gina opened the refrigerator and took out a pan of marinating chicken. “Please, let’s not argue. You know how I feel about this.”

“Gina, don’t you see? We’re talking about Wendy’s future!”

“We certainly are.” She turned to him. “This surgery terrifies me, Howard.”

“I know it does.” His voice softened. “It frightens me, too, but Wendy wants to get her life on track. Surely we should stand by her.”

“We have. We always will. But this operation...”

“The operation, the technique Dr. Pommier’s developed, is a miracle. Don’t you see that?”

“Our daughter almost died,” Gina said in a trembling voice. “Then her doctors thought she might not walk again. Well, she lived. And she can walk. Most people would say those things were miracles enough for one lifetime.” Her eyes beseeched him. “But Wendy is embittered and filled with anger. She lives for a past that isn’t half as important as the future she could build if she learned to accept herself as she is.”

“That our little girl lived and walked again is certainly a miracle, but if she wants to compete again—”

“Does she really? Or is it just that she doesn’t want to face something else?”

Howard put down the knife. “What something else are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.” Gina sighed and folded her arms. “I just get the feeling that Wendy’s hiding something.”

“From us?”

“From everybody, including herself. Oh, I know. I’m not making sense, but, well, sometimes I think she’s using this surgery as an excuse to run away from herself.”

Howard picked up the knife and attacked another potato. “You’re right,” he said coolly, “you’re not making sense. You just don’t understand the importance of having a goal you worked toward all your life.”

“Listen to yourself! Who are you talking about, Wendy or you?”

“That’s not fair. You know how much I love our daughter.”

“Of course you love her. But you’re so busy projecting your own wishes on Wendy that you haven’t taken a good, hard look at her. Howard. I’m telling you, she’s in denial. She can’t accept what happened to her and she thinks if she has this surgery—”

“There’s no ‘if’ about it,” Wendy said calmly.

Her parents, startled, swung toward the door.

“I am having the surgery, Mother—assuming I can talk Dr. Pommier into it.”

Wendy saw her mother’s eyes widen. Well, why wouldn’t they? She’d seen herself in the car mirror; she knew she looked as awful as she felt. She’d been driving around for over an hour, unwilling to go home until she got herself under control. She’d tried not to think about anything but Rod Pommier and what she’d say to him, because thinking about anything else, like Seth’s arrogance in assuming he knew what was best for her, or her own foolishness in almost telling him the truth, was the stuff of defeat.

“The doctor’s agreed to talk with me at Twin Oaks in half an hour.”

She could see the excitement flash across her father’s face. “That’s wonderful news, honey! I didn’t even know he was back in town. Did you meet him last night?”

“I haven’t met him at all.” Wendy hesitated. “Seth set it up. He’s remodeling a cabin the doctor bought.”

“Well,” Howard said coldly, “I suppose I’ll have to thank him for arranging this meeting.” He stood up. “Shall I go with you?”

Wendy nodded. “Mom? Will you come, too?”

No, Gina wanted to say. I don’t want any part of this. But her adult daughter was watching her with a child’s hope in her eyes.

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” Gina took off her apron while Howard went to his den to get Wendy’s medical files. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m nervous,” Wendy admitted with a quick smile. “That’s all.”

There was more to it than nerves, Gina suspected. When Wendy had called to say she was with Seth and wouldn’t be home until evening, her joy had radiated through the telephone. Now her eyes were red and swollen.

“How fortunate Seth knows Dr. Pommier,” Gina said.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Has he changed his mind about things? He wasn’t very happy about you wanting surgery.”

Wendy’s eyes grew veiled. “What Seth wants isn’t an issue here.”

“I only meant—” Gina started again. “Well, then, are you sure this is what you want?”

“It’s what I came home for, Mother.”

It wasn’t an answer, but from the resolute expression on her daughter’s face, Gina knew it was the only answer she was going to get.

* * *

ROD POMMIER LOOKED at Seth over the rim of his brandy snifter.

The gathering room was empty tonight, except for the two of them. They were in front of the fireplace, Rod seated and Seth pacing the room like a caged bear. Rod figured that if Wendy Monroe didn’t show up in the next five minutes, Seth might wear a hole in the floor.

“I told her seven-fifteen,” Seth muttered, glancing at his watch.

“Uh-huh.” Pommier took a sip of brandy. “And here it is, seven-seventeen. The lady’s definitely late.”

“Yes, she is. And...

” Seth narrowed his eyes. “I suppose I sound like an idiot.”

The doctor smiled. “You want an answer from Rod Pommier, M.D., or from Aunt Agatha?”

“Do me a favor, Doc. Can the Aunt Agatha thing, okay?” Seth jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his cords. “You might be one hell of a surgeon, but you’re a dud when it comes to advice for the lovelorn.”

“The only thing I told you was that you still had a thing for Wendy Monroe.”

“That’s what I mean. You were wrong.”

Pommier lifted his eyebrows. “The whole town’s buzzing about the two of you being back together as a couple.”

Seth gave a derisive snort. “You mean you stopped by at Philo’s to buy a candy bar and he filled your ear with gossip.”

The doctor grinned. “It was a bag of potato chips, and if you ever tell that to the blond nutritionist I met in Vermont, I’ll certify you as mentally incompetent.”

Seth laughed. “A blond nutritionist, huh?”