and we were on our way up before Bart could reach
Cindy.
"Learn to keep your mouth shut," said Jory.
"You only make him worse, Cindy--and I regret what
I just said. Did you see
his face? I don't think he's
pretending about religion. He's deadly serious. He
seems to truly believe. If Joel is a hypocrite, Bart is
not." Chris fixed his strong regard on both before he
stepped out of the elevator. "Jory, Cindy, you listen to
me carefully. I want you both to do your best tonight
to see that Bart's party is successful. Forget your
enmity, at least for one night. He was a troubled little
boy, and he has grown into a more troubled man. He
needs help, and badly. Not from more sessions with
psychiatrists, but help from those who love him
most--and despite everything, I know you both love
him. Just as his mother and I love him and care what
happens to him. As for Melodie, I visited her before
dinner, and she's not feeling well enough to attend the
party. She wouldn't let me examine her, though I tried
to insist, and she says she feels too big, too clumsy
and won't be coming out where guests can stare at her
enormous size. I think that might be the best solution
for her. But if you would, look in on her and say a few
kind words of encouragement, for that poor girl is
coming apart from worry . . ."
Jory steered his chair down the hall, turning
directly into his room, ignoring Melodie's closed door.
I sighed, as did Chris.