Still Waters

Seven

Maddy wasn't sure why, at the last minute, she'd decided to ask Dottie Frownfelter if she could take Theresa with her to Zack's. It had just been one of those impulses she had so often and wound up regretting. She'd thought it would make Zack happy. Now she thought maybe it would have been better if she'd called first.

Zack's face was going through such a fascinating and puzzling series of expressions. Maddy spent a lot of time studying facial expressions, learning how to duplicate them in felt and fur and papier-mache, and she knew very well that people's faces weren't always accurate barometers of their emotions. If she thought she saw disappointment on Zack's, she was probably just misreading him. She didn't seem to have much luck reading him anyway. And she knew he was crazy about Theresa. This afternoon he'd been disappointed and frustrated to the point of churlishness at not being allowed to see her. How could he possibly be disappointed? He was just surprised, that was all. She really should have called first.

She took a deep breath, smiled, and opened her mouth to say "Hi." Instead she stopped, blinked, and blurted out, "What in the world happened to you? Your lip…"

Beside her, Theresa leaned against her leg and lifted her hand in a shy wave. Zack glanced down at her, then touched his lip gingerly and muttered, "It's nothing, Maddy. Ran into a door. Hey, Theresa! Nice to see you, squirt." If he had been disappointed, he'd made a quick recovery, Maddy thought. He gently touched Theresa's hair, and the pleasure on his face was unmistakable. "You been working on that kick like I told you? Nice, straight legs?"

Theresa slowly shook her head.

Zack looked stern. "Why not?"

" 'Cause I don't have a pool." Theresa shrugged matter-of-factly, secure in the knowledge that her excuse was irrefutable.

Zack looked shocked. "No kiddin? Well, guess what? I do. Did you bring your bathing suit?"

Theresa proudly held up a small plastic purse with a picture of a Cabbage Patch doll on it. "Yep, it's in my purse-just like Maddy's! And you know what? Maddy even bought me this purse."

Zack looked at Maddy. She sucked in her breath at the look in the smoky blue depths of his eyes, then laughed and lifted her shoulders. "I thought you'd like to see her, after this morning. I hope… I know I should have asked…"

"No. Hey, it's great! Come on in. Uh… Maddy, you know where to change. You can show Theresa-"

"I can dress myself," Theresa informed him loftily. "But somebody has to tie me."

"I'll help you, sweetheart," Maddy murmured.

Zack seemed about to say something, then rubbed a hand over his hair and gave a little cough. "Okay. Well, then. Oh, wait." He raised his voice and bellowed, "Dahl!"

Maddy wondered if Zack's housekeeper had been listening from the kitchen doorway, because she appeared immediately, and didn't look the least bit surprised to see Theresa.

"Dahlia," Zack said, clearing his throat. "This is Theresa."

"Hello, Theresa." Dahlia's manner was warm, and, though no less queenly than usual, seemed to have softened indefinably. Maybe it was her voice, Maddy mused, still rich and mellow, but a little lighter, like an oboe played pianissimo. "I am so pleased to meet you."

"Theresa, this is Dahlia."

Theresa's head swiveled from Dahlia to Zack. In a loud whisper she asked, "Is she your mother?"

Maddy stifled a squeak and looked at Dahlia, who was trying to control her smile. Zack laughed and said, "No, she's not my mother. But she does take care of me."

Theresa nodded solemnly. This was something she could understand. "I don't have a mother either. But Dottie's taking care of me now. She lets me make cookies. I got to mash 'em with a fork!"

Zack looked at Maddy with raised eyebrows and mouthed, "I thought she was shy!" He seemed slightly dazed. Maddy laughed silently and shook her head. She'd been discovering that, freed from the fear of violence, Theresa could be quite a little character. In fact she could probably, as Maddy's father would have put it, "talk the hind leg off a mule."

"Well," Dahlia said, looking impressed and a bit dazed herself. "I'm fixing supper right this minute. Would you like to help me make the salad?"

"Are we going to stay for supper?" Theresa asked, tipping her head back to look at Maddy. Maddy looked at Zack, who nodded. "What are we having for supper? I smell something good."

"Lasagne," Zack and Dahlia said together.

"Oh, I love lasagne! But I can't help make the salad." Theresa shook her head sadly.

"Why not, baby?" Dahlia looked gravely disappointed. Zack shrugged and looked at Maddy, who shrugged back.

" 'Cause Zack says I have to practice my kick."

"Tell you what," Zack said, dropping a hand to Theresa's shoulder. "I bet Dahlia wouldn't mind if you came and swam for a little while, and then helped with the salad."

"That would be good," Theresa said, nodding judiciously.

"That's fine," Dahlia agreed.

"Okay, squirt-scoot. Go get your suit on." As Maddy turned Theresa toward the hallway, Zack said in an undertone to Dahlia, "Give us fifteen minutes, then come and get her. And Dahl… thanks!" He dropped a quick kiss on the housekeeper's cheek and bounded down the stairs to the basement. Dahlia gave Maddy an enigmatic look and turned back to the kitchen.

Thanks? Maddy wondered. What for? For being nice to Theresa? For keeping her occupied? For fixing dinner? What? There were undercurrents here she didn't understand! She was still frowning over it as she took Theresa's hand and turned down the hall to the bathroom. Theresa, oblivious to undercurrents, was experimentally chanting, "Squirt, scoot, suit… Squoot, sirt… Hey, that's a tongue twister!"

He was so wonderful with her, Maddy thought as she sat in a deck chair and watched Zack work with Theresa in the shallow end of the pool. Really wonderful…

He used the same firm, no-nonsense approach Maddy remembered from that day at the public pool, but there was no comparing this Theresa with the frail creature who had clung so timidly to Maddy's hand and flinched in fear from Zack's touch. Maddy couldn't believe how far the girl had come in so little time. It seemed nothing short of miraculous to her to watch that tiny child fling herself off the side of the pool and into the water without a moment's hesitation, then kick to the surface and strike out with confidence for the side.

Maddy wondered if she would ever be able to come up out of the water the way Theresa did, laughing as she pushed streaming hair out of her face.

Now Zack had abandoned his teacher's role and was romping with Theresa like a playful dolphin. Sometimes he seemed to play so roughly that Maddy gasped and had to cover her eyes, but Theresa's shrieks and yelps were of joy and excitement, not fear. And Maddy noticed that whether Zack was tossing her into the air or ducking her in the water, his hands were always gentle, strong, and sure.

She trusts him, Maddy thought, remembering the way those firm and gentle hands had held her that day at the pool, remembering his voice in her ear saying, "You can do it."

She had trusted him, too, enough to put her face into the water. It was only when he let her go, she realized now, that she'd fainted.

She watched Zack take Theresa to the deep end of the pool on his back, knifing through the water with a powerful breaststroke, while Theresa giggled ecstatically and clung to his neck. And she remembered vividly the way that powerful body had aligned itself under hers, his chest muscles sliding against her back, the way her legs had tangled unexpectedly with his…

Something flip-flopped inside her. She folded her arms across her waist and leaned over, pressing tightly against a hollow, quivery feeling in her stomach.

"Hey, what's the matter? Butterflies?" Zack was standing there dripping and grinning, wiping his face with a towel.

Theresa peered at her around Zack's legs, black eyes sparkling above the folds of her own towel as she announced, "I had fun! Did you see me swim? Pretty soon I can go off the diving board. Zack says so!"

"Not so fast, squirt. Not until I tell you you can, and not unless I'm right there, understand?"

"Okay," Theresa muttered reluctantly. She recovered her bounce and sparkle when she saw Dahlia coming toward her with outstretched hands. "Oh, boy. Now we get to make salad! Hi, Dahlia! What do I get to do?"

"First of all, you get to get yourself out of those wet things," Dahlia said firmly. With a glance at Maddy and a nod toward Zack, the housekeeper took Theresa by the hand and led her, hopping and skipping in anticipation, into the house.

Zack, watching them go, shook his head and murmured, "What a difference." He turned to Maddy, who was still holding her stomach together. "You really have butterflies about this."

She shook her head-a silent lie. Actually, the butterflies were worse than ever. Oh, not the cold, sick kind. She hadn't felt those in ages. These were the hot, quivery kind she was coming to associate with only one thing: Zack's nearness.

What now? she wondered.

Zack was looking at her as if he were thinking the same thing. Then he held out his hand and said sternly, "Come on, Amanda. Your turn."

"Aren't we going in the hot tub first?" she asked plaintively as he pulled her out of the deck chair.

"Uh-uh. Not this time." He gave her a little half-smile that was warm with sensual memories. "Can't let you get too spoiled. Come on." He jumped into the water and patted the brick coping. "Sit down."

Maddy reluctantly obeyed, lowering her feet gingerly into the water.

Zack stepped close to her. The hard muscles of his belly bumped her knees. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked into his face, then couldn't restrain a tiny gasp as she felt his hands on her waist.

"Take it easy," he said, sounding irritated. "I'm not going to hurt you. Put your hands on my shoulders and jump down." When she hesitated, he snapped, "Come on, you can see the water isn't even waist deep."

Now he was angry with her, she thought, and wished she knew why.

All at once she felt depressed, utterly mired in wretchedness. She pressed her lips together as she placed her hands on Zack's broad shoulders. She focused on the off-center dimple in his chin to take her mind off the feel of that warm, resilient muscle beneath her palms… and the pressure of his hands on her body.

"Now," he said when she was standing in the waistdeep water, trying not to shiver, "follow me."

Not that she had any choice-his hands were still holding her waist. Her fingers clutched the hard, wet muscle of his shoulders as he pulled her slowly into deeper water. She could feel his gaze on her face and knew without looking that he was frowning. She kept her own gaze steadfastly glued to his chin, because she didn't dare meet his eyes. If she looked up, if she tilted her head just a little, her face would be only inches away from his. She could feel the cool stirring of his breath on her damp forehead.

The water swirled around her like the cool kiss of fine silk. When it touched her chest, Zack stopped and said, "Now, Maddy, I want you to bend your knees and let the water come right up to your chin."

Her knees turned to rubber. She couldn't make them obey. "Zack-"

"Come on, Maddy. Do it." His voice was hard and uncompromising, but the pressure of his hands on her waist remained constant. He wouldn't force her, she knew that, yet she felt compelled nonetheless. She closed her eyes and lowered herself until the water lapped at her chin.

"Good girl…" Zack's voice became a reassuring drone. "Now close your mouth and let the water cover your lips. Just your lips. Keep your mouth closed, now…"

Maddy tried. She really did try. She closed her mouth and tried to pretend the water was something else. Cloth… flower petals… But the images wouldn't stay put. They kept breaking up into green, slimy blackness. The tension under her ribs rose into her throat, strangling her, choking the life out of her…

"No!" She erupted from the water with a cry of pure terror. "No. I can't!" She turned, groping wildly for the edge of the pool.

Zack's arms imprisoned her, coming around her from behind to prevent her escape. Hard arms, holding her tightly, just holding her, while she struggled and fought him with blind futility. He didn't try to speak until she had relaxed against him, limp and defeated. Then he said in quiet triumph, "That's it, isn't it? It's just your/ace. You can't stand the water on your face. Babe, don't you know how natural that is? Almost everybody hates putting his face in the water at first, but after you've done it a few times and you find out it isn't going to kill you, it isn't nearly as bad as you thought. Then-"

"But it's worse!" Maddy cried. Her head fell back onto his shoulder. She felt sobs tumbling through her and pressed her lips tightly together, hoping to hold them back. "Don't you understand? It isn't like that. It's always worse-worse than I can imagine!"

"Worse? Maddy, what do you mean? Tell me." His voice, like his embrace, was hard, rough, commanding. She shook her head frantically. One of those sobs managed to get away from her, but because she wasn't used to losing control at all, it came out a strangled whimper.

Zack's sigh lifted his chest against her back. Frustration showed in the barely controlled tension in his voice and his hands. "Okay, that's it. Enough for today. Come on."

He walked her to the steps and held her arm while she climbed out of the pool. She stood with her shoulders hunched while he reached for a towel, feeling terrible, like a wretched, miserable failure. Why couldn't she control her reactions, like an adult? Why couldn't she master her childish fears? Why was she such a weak, spineless jellyfish?

"I'm sorry," she said tightly, ignoring the towel he handed her and hugging herself instead. "I tried. I'm sorry. I know you're angry."

"Maddy-" She could see him take a deep breath and fight for patience. "Maddy, I'm not angry with you."

"Yes, you are."

"Okay, all right, I'm angry. But not because you can't put your face in the water. Dammit, it's because you won't talk to me about it, don't you understand? I can't help you if you won't talk to me!"

With unexpected gentleness, he draped the towel around her shoulders and used the ends of it to pull her closer. Maddy's heart began to hurl itself against her ribs. She stared doggedly at the drops of water that had collected in the hollow above his collarbone as he leaned forward and touched her forehead with his lips.

She pressed her lips together and sniffled. "Hey," Zack said, and lifted her chin with a knuckle. "Don't do that. I told you, we're going to beat this thing. You're my personal challenge, babe. If you think you're going to get off this easy, I'd better warn you-I don't give up. You don't get to the Olympics without a pretty good-sized helping of pure, bullheaded stubbornness!"

Maddy still wasn't trusting herself to look at his face, but she heard the smile in his voice and answered it with an unsteady laugh. "I can imagine."

"Yeah…"He gave her a little shake, and this time when he spoke she heard the iron in his voice. "So the next time you come, you make up your mind before you do about two things. One, that you trust me; and two, that you're here to work. Understand? Because I mean to get to the bottom of this thing."

She shivered, and finally lifted her gaze to his face. Her breath caught in a tiny hiccup of wonder. She thought of hard, unyielding things, like stone and steel. She remembered television cameras zooming in tight on a swimmer on the starting platform, poised for the gun, eyes narrowed, jaw muscles clenching. She knew that this man, when he made up his mind to go after something, didn't give up until he'd won it… whether it was an Olympic gold medal, a world's record, a little girl, or a close-held secret.

She realized suddenly that, for all his gentleness and charm, Zack London was a very ruthless man.

"One other thing," he said. He was watching her through half-closed eyes. His arms lay heavy on her shoulders, his fingers loosely interlocked at the back of her neck. "Next time you come here for a lesson, Maddy… come alone."

That surprised her. "But I thought you'd be happy. I thought you were so crazy about Theresa, and so anxious to see her-"

"I am crazy about Theresa, and I was happy to see her tonight. But there's a time and a place for everything."

"I just thought-"

"A swimming lesson isn't recreation. It's work. And when I work, I work, and I expect you to do the same."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"And Maddy." His voice dropped, softened. Behind the veil of his gold-tipped lashes she could see a kind of glow that seemed to catch her up and hold her, so that it was impossible to look away. "When I want to be alone with a woman, I don't want a six-year-old audience, no matter how much I love her. Understand?"

She shook her head in fruitless denial.

"Sure, you do," he said, and lowered his mouth to hers.

For an instant Maddy felt his lips on hers, firm and warm and wonderful. Then he jerked his head back and muttered a muffled and chagrined, "Ouch. Damn!"

She touched her own lips with her fingertips, smothering a nervous giggle.

"Not a terribly auspicious beginning," Zack said. "You want to try that again?"

Quite suddenly Maddy knew there wasn't anything in the world she wanted more than to try that again. And if it went as well as she thought it might, again and again and… "Yes, please," she whispered, and tried a smile. "Carefully."

His mouth was all but touching hers. "Carefully," he breathed, and slowly closed the gap.

Maddy had suspected it might be wonderful, but she could never have imagined anything like that kiss. It wasn't what she was used to. Men always seemed to want to… push so, to establish dominance right off the bat, she supposed, because they weren't sure enough of themselves. Their mouths were invariably hot and open, tongues unpleasantly intrusive. She found the whole thing so dismal, she'd all but stopped dating because of it.

Of course, Zack was hampered somewhat by a sore lip. But Maddy knew, she just knew, that the cut lip hadn't cramped his style in the slightest…

There was nothing intrusive, or remotely unpleasant, about the way Zack's lips moved over hers. He seemed to take pleasure in the shape and texture of her mouth, as if it were a rare delicacy to be savored. Maddy stood very still, wrapped in wonder, lips parted and breath suspended, completely caught up in the feeling, the sensation of his mouth sliding over hers. And then unconsciously, she began to move her lips, too, tasting and savoring him as he did her.

She felt his tongue touch the parted edges of her mouth-not intruding, but just there, a natural part of him. It seemed a natural thing to touch it with her own tongue…

It became more than wonderful. It began to be fun. Maddy felt a smile grow and blossom in the warm embrace of his mouth. Tiny effervescent shivers filled all her insides. She said "Mmm," and lifted a hand to touch the side of his face.

His arms came around her and drew her close. She opened her arms, and the towel, and felt their warm, wet bodies come together in what felt strangely like melting. She couldn't seem to tell where she left off and he began. That same melting-merging was happening, too, to their mouths. Somehow he was kissing her fully, deeply, and she couldn't have said how it happened or when it began. She only knew she never wanted it to end.

She didn't want it to end, but it did. A sound, deep and rich as a cello solo, entered her consciousness like the first tiny trickles of rain down a watershed. An instant later it was a torrent of awareness that broke over her like a flood. She pulled away from Zack and stood dazed and shaking, cold with shock.

"What-who is that?" Her jaws felt both tight and unhinged, if that were possible.

"That," Zack said dryly, "is why I'd rather you came alone next time."

"No, I mean-"

"I know what you mean." He had kept one hand on her shoulder, and was gently combing her hair back behind her ear with the other. Now he sighed and let that hand drop to her shoulder too. "It's Dahlia," he said with flat resignation. "Singing to Theresa, I imagine."

Dahlia's voice rolled out through the kitchen window, clear and full-throated. Maddy could feel- could almost hear-the slow rhythms of the gospel beat:

Jesus… loves me. This I know…

Maddy cleared her throat and laughed painfully, turning so that Zack's hands fell away from her shoulders. "My goodness, she's wonderful."

"Yeah," Zack said. He was watching her with that old, smoky look. "She used to be a gospel singer, years ago, before she was married. I think she could have been one of the great ones."

"She still could." Maddy shivered suddenly and violently, and pulled her towel around her.

"Sounds as though you know gospel music."

"I was raised on it," she said, shivering again.

"Let's go inside," Zack said abruptly. "There's a fire… you're getting cold." He dropped his arm across her shoulders.

Maddy didn't shrug his arm away-not quite. She just held her body rigid, refusing to allow herself to be drawn against him, no matter how much she wanted to. She remembered that warm melting together of their bodies, and missed it so much, she felt almost as if part of her were missing. She longed to get that feeling of oneness back again, but she knew it was impossible now. The moment had been destroyed by Dahlia's singing, as abruptly and totally as a bucket of ice water destroys sleep.

"Is Zack your boyfriend?" Theresa's question was off-hand, and accompanied by a monotonous snap-pop, snap-pop, as she fastened and unfastened the flap of her new purse.

Maddy threw her a startled glance. She was driving Theresa back to her foster home through a late June twilight, and it was too dark in the car to see the girl's face. "No! Of course not. Where did you get that idea?"

"He was kissing you."

"Theresa!" Maddy laughed with embarrassment.

"Well, he was. I saw you."

"Oh."

"You know what? Vicki Frownfelter-she's my foster sister-she gots a boyfriend. She told me."

"Really? How old is Vicki?"

"Sixteen. She's ten years older than me," Theresa added proudly. "When I'm sixteen, will I have a boyfriend?"

"I'm sure you will, sweetheart." Maddy cleared her throat and said firmly, "But Zack is just a friend of mine. That's all."

Theresa shook her head and declared, "Uh-uh. That sure looked like a boyfriend kiss to me."

"Oh, yeah?" Maddy was laughing in spite of herself. "What makes you such an expert, young lady?"

"Not very much," Theresa admitted sorrowfully. "Whenever somebody kisses on television, Aunt Carly always turns the TV off."

"Well, Zack is not my boyfriend. I told you before. He's just… a friend."

Theresa heaved a huge sigh and leaned her head back against the car seat. "I wish Zack could be my boyfriend. But I'm too little!"

"You like him?" Maddy kept her voice casual.

"Oh, yes. Zack is really neat. I like Dahlia, too. She sings. The only thing is, she calls me 'baby.' But that's okay. I don't think she means it. Do you like Zack?"

"Theresa, I told you I do."

"No, you didn't. You just said he's your friend."

"You're going to make a great lawyer someday," Maddy muttered under her breath, beginning to see what Larry meant about being with a child outside the clinic and schools. "Yes, of course I like Zack!"

"Is that why you kissed him?"

"Theresa!"

"Well," she said obstinately, "you were kissing." The fastening on her purse began to pop-snap, pop-snap…

Maddy glanced down at the stubbornly tilted head beside her and thought that Zack and Theresa were already a lot alike!

"Maddy-what the hell is this? Some kind of joke? Dahl said you called up and canceled your lesson! Dammit, you call me and explain."

Maddy winced at the frustrated fury that hissed from the message machine like blue flame from a welder's torch. Zack was upset, and she didn't really blame him. She wasn't sure herself what had made her cancel the lesson. She just knew she didn't feel ready for what might happen if she went back to Zack's place alone. Sensory memories had haunted her sleep, haunted her still… The feel of Zack's hands on her waist, the cool firmness of his wet body beneath her hands, the taste and texture of his mouth, the roughness of his face rasping against her fingertips…

The butterfly feeling in her stomach seemed to have become a permanent condition.

She'd barely rewound the tape when the telephone rang shrilly. She started violently, then sat hunched and tense, waiting for the machine to pick up the call. She was almost certain she knew who it would be.

"Maddy-I know you're there." The angry voice confirmed her suspicion. "Larry said you'd gone home. I know you can hear me." There was a sigh. She could almost see him dragging a hand through his hair, fighting for control. A great, aching surge of emotion filled her, and she had to struggle against a compulsion to give in and pick up the receiver. Why was she resisting him… and her own desires?

"Come on, Maddy, why are you doing this? If you don't face up to this thing now, you never will. Dammit, don't hide from me!" And finally, a grimly muttered, "Okay, babe. This isn't the end of it!" A click, a beep, then silence.

Maddy sat for a moment longer, then picked up Bosley and slipped the dragon over her arm. She stared at the pink triangular face, and the dragon gazed back in silent reproach. For once, Maddy could think of nothing for either of them to say.

The phone rang again. She dumped Bosley hastily and rudely into her lap and reached for it, then snatched her hand back. It could be Zack again, hoping to catch her napping. He was persistent enough to try something like that. She waited tensely while the machine ran through her message. The beep sounded; then she heard a plaintive voice.

"Oh… Maddy, it's Saturday. Aren't you ever home?"

Chuckling with sheer relief, Maddy picked up the receiver and switched off the machine. "Hello, Jody, it's me."

"Oh! I'm so glad! I was beginning to think nobody alive ever answers a phone anymore. If you can't come, Amanda, I'll never forgive you. It's not my fault it's so spur-of-the-moment. I did try to reach you earlier." Jody paused to take a breath, and Maddy plunged into the breach.

"Don't you think you should tell me what I'll be missing if I can't come? And when I'd be missing it?"

"Oh. I guess that probably would be a good idea. Michael's finished his project! And we're all celebrating. Tonight."

"Project?"

"Yeah, that deck and fire pit he and Cliff have been working on forever. They've actually finished it, can you believe that? We were going to have a big thing Fourth of July, but then we found out Mike is scheduled for the Tokyo layover, and since his flight this weekend got canceled, we just decided to call everybody and do this instead. Nothing fancy, come as you are. We aren't barbecuing. That's so suburban, and anyway, who wants to stand around turning steaks all night! So I've ordered some stuff from the deli. Cliff wanted to break a bottle of champagne on the fire pit, but Mike convinced him it would be a sinful waste of good champagne, not to mention the damage it might do to the fire pit, so well open the bottle the civilized way and christen the fire pit by burning the cork with appropriate ceremony. So what do you think? Can you make it? You have to come."

"Well…"

"Amanda, have you been running? Why do you sound out of breath?"

"Gee whiz, I don't know Jody, you have that effect on people sometimes! Okay, I'll come. What time?" It had just occurred to her that Zack London was probably entirely capable of coming over here and hauling her bodily to his place. But if she were safely away for the evening…

"Oh, you know, seven-thirtyish."

"Oh," Maddy muttered, thinking fast. Her lessons with Zack were scheduled for six. "How about if I come over a little early and help?"

"By all means, come early, but not to help. Nobody's doing anything much. It's just a casual little thing, no big deal."

"Sure," Maddy said, laughing. Mike and Jody's parties were legendary, even beyond the limits of San Ramon. "Okay, I'll be there. Is six too early?"

" 'Course not, darlin'. Bring your puppets-you can keep the twins out of the buffet. Oh, I almost forgot. Wear something sensational. I might have the most marvelous surprise for you, if I can get-"

"I thought you said casual."

"Oh I did. It is. For everybody but you. Trust me, Amanda. Okay, see you tonight. Gotta go. Lots of calls to make-"

Maddy laughed at the dial tone and hung up, shaking her head. "Something sensational," huh? she mused. What was Jody up to this time? Or more accurately, whom was Jody trying to set her up with this time? Whoever the poor guy was, she wondered if Jody had told him he was being "set up" or if it was going to be a complete surprise to him. Jody had worked it both ways. Maddy wasn't sure which was worse!

She picked up poor Bosley and began to smooth out her wrinkles. "Something sensational," she murmured thoughtfully as she adjusted the dragon on her arm. Why couldn't Jody just accept the fact that Maddy wasn't the "sensational" type!

"Honey," Bosley's Mae West voice crooned throatily, "it might just serve the lady right if you did show up in four-inch spikes and sequins."

Maddy laughed softly. She definitely wasn't in the mood to put up with one of Jody's efforts to pair her off with Mr. Wonderful. If it weren't for the possibility of Zack London's showing up on her doorstep breathing fire, she wouldn't even bother going to this party. Still, it might be fun to see Jody's unsuspecting male when Jody presented him to over six feet of blond Amazon. Poor thing might have a heart attack, which would teach Jody a lesson!

Maddy shook her head and hung Bosley back on her stand. What a terrible thing to think! She didn't know where such ideas were coming from. She was feeling very odd today-restless and reckless and out of step with herself. She sighed and looked at her watch. She'd never go as far as black sequins, but she did have time for a quick trip to the mall, and it had been a while since she'd bought a new dress, just for fun. And besides, it would get her out of the house, out of reach of the telephone…

"Good night. Hel-lo gorgeous!" Mike Harbor was in his own doorway, looking as if he'd been standing behind a 747 when somebody started the engines.

Maddy blushed furiously. "Thanks a lot, Mike. I really need that."

"Darlin', you're the only person in the world who'd take that as an insult. Sorry. Lost my head." He tucked the hammer he'd been holding under one arm and held out his hand. Assembling his face into an attitude of comic gravity, he intoned, "Maddy, my dear, you're looking mah-velous. Do come in. You'll find Jody out by the pool, I think. Mind if I tag along? I'd just like to watch people's faces when they get a load of you in that dress."

She'd gone too far, Maddy thought in panic. Where did she get these impulses?

The dress was red, not black, and it had tiny white polka dots instead of sequins. It was an off-the-shoulder sundress with a tight bodice made of something stretchy, and a swirly skirt that came just below the knee. It was cut so low in front and back that she couldn't possibly have worn a bra with it, but it fit her like a leotard anyway, so it didn't matter. Her red sandals only had three-inch heels, which put her height at just over six feet, a little more if you counted hair, which she'd curled, for a change, then fastened back with combs so that the curls cascaded down her bare back. Her reckless mood had sustained her this far, but she was beginning to feel sanity coming on.

"Hey, everybody," Mike-the rat-bellowed as he ushered her onto the patio. "Look who's here!"

A hush fell. Mike and Jody's next-door neighbor, Cliff Dawson, was standing on a ladder, stringing a net of tiny lights. He sat down abruptly on the top step and stared at Maddy with his mouth open. His hammer clattered to the deck, and his wife, Lois, picked it up and hit him on the shin with it. He didn't even blink.

Mike gave Maddy a smug I-told-you-so grin and said, "Hah!"

Jody walked across the lawn toward her, beaming like a proud mother. "Amanda, that's perfect. Absolutely perfect. I didn't think you'd really do it, but let me tell you, you're going to be glad you did, I guarantee it. Wait till you see-no, no! Not there. That goes over there!" She dashed off to intercept two caterer's assistants loaded down with trays.

Maddy turned to Mike and muttered, "Where's that champagne? I think I need a drink." She was joking. She wasn't much of a drinker at any time, and Mike knew it.

"Sorry, no champagne until the grand opening. How 'bout a beer?"

"In this dress? Are you kidding? Where would I put it?"

Mike shook his head and breathed heavily. "Darlin", I do see your point."

Maddy was saved from having to think up a rebuttal to that as the Harbors' twin boys came clattering onto the patio, shouting in two-part harmony. "Maddy, Maddy, there you are! What took you so long? Mom said you were coming to play with us. Did you bring any puppets? Did you bring Bosley? Can I work him?"

"No, I get to work him!"

"It's my turn. You got to last time!"

"Did not!"

"Did too. It's my turn. Maddy!"

Maddy gazed down fondly at the two curly blond heads. The boys' cheeks were pink, their grins appealingly gap-toothed, their eyes wide. And they were totally unimpressed by the way she was dressed. Thank heaven for the kids. To them she was still just plain old Maddy, and that meant only one thing.

"Come on, Maddy-where are they? Which ones did you bring?"

She stared down at the two little boys now with a sense of shock. For probably the first time in her life, she'd forgotten all about her puppets!

"Hey, guess what?" she said. She took one small hand firmly in each of hers and thought fast. "I'm going to show you guys how to make a puppet of your own. Who's got a sweat sock?"

"I have!" both boys shouted.

"Clean?"

They grinned and lifted their shoulders in identical shrugs.

Maddy spent two delightful hours sitting cross-legged in the middle of the twins' bedroom floor, her lap full of felt and paper scraps, her fingers collecting a layer of glue and paint. When she heard Jody calling from downstairs, she brushed herself off with reluctance, kissed the boys, and silenced their protests by promising to bring Bosley soon. Then, with a fatalistic sigh, she left the room to face Jody and her latest victim.

She was already halfway down the stairs before it struck her that the man with his arm in Jody's clutches looked terribly familiar.

Nobody else in the world could have hair like that.

She thought about turning around and escaping back up the stairs, but her legs weren't up to it. And besides, it was already too late. He'd seen her.

"Oh, Maddy, there you are," Jody said. "I should have known. Look who's here. Isn't it marvelous? I know you two have met."

"Yes," Zack murmured. "We have. Hello, Maddy."