Decker said, “She’s my daughter … Rina’s stepdaughter … not a blood relative.”
Dr. Wallace said, “So you’ll watch your pop for me?”
Cindy nodded.
“Come along. Let’s go help your mom.” Dr. Wallace started her speed walk. In the distance, Decker heard her ask what the boys’ names were. He couldn’t hear if they answered her. Either they were too far away or their voices were too weak.
Slowly, Decker lowered himself onto the couch. Marge sat at his right, Cindy at his left. She held his arm and kissed his bicep. Decker turned to her and tried out a smile.
“It’ll be okay, Dad,” she said. “Do you need anything?”
His initial reaction was nothing, but then he gave the matter some thought. “Princess, would you mind getting me something to eat? I think there’s a vending machine with fruit on the first floor. How about an apple and a banana?”
“Got it.” Cindy stood. “Do you want anything, Marge?”
“An apple sounds great.”
“On the double.”
Cindy did a jog to the elevator. When she was out of sight, Decker slumped back on the couch and closed his eyes.
“Do you want some coffee, Pete?” Marge asked.
“Nothing, thanks.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“It’s serious, Margie … I’m scared.”
He swabbed his wet cheeks with his fingers. She hugged his shoulder but didn’t speak. Decker was grateful for the silence.
It wasn’t as if she was narcissistic or anything as psychologically disturbed as that. It was just that hers was a body worth looking at. Like admiring a work of art.
Because that was what she was—a work of art.
Stripped down naked, sweat glistening from smooth, bronzed skin, she regarded herself in the mirror. Perfect round, pronounced breasts because of the developed pecs underneath. The just rewards of really hard work. She’d gained shape without gaining an ounce of fat. She patted her flat abdomen, did a couple of arm rolls, then ran through a couple of poses—all sleek, defined muscle.
Definitely, she had developed the definition—the cut!
She swiped her damp body with a thick white Turkish towel, then wrapped it around her trunk, eyes never leaving the mirror. Short wisps of downy-fine facial hair ran down her cheek parallel to her ear—peach-fuzz sideburns. It went with the territory. At least it was blond. Good thing, because her coloring was naturally dark.
She unclipped her hair, and black satin fell to her shoulders.
Exotic. That’s what everyone had said about her. She was exotic-looking.
Again she studied her reflection in the silver glass.
In only two years, she had turned from a nothing into a something. From a tall, shapeless form to a Greek sculpture. But she was so much more than just a perfect body. With the discipline had come the control—real control. Not the artificial kind that comes when the mind is altered by chemicals. Drugs that hide but don’t cure. Now she was in control. Her mind was as disciplined as an army general’s, as meticulously organized as a dictionary. She was master of her destiny. There was nothing she couldn’t conquer, nothing she couldn’t overcome.
Best of all, the voices had stopped.
The door opened and closed. In the mirror, she saw him coming at her. This time it was Eric. He was naked, his biceps like veined footballs. He duck-walked to her, his thighs so buffed they had rubbed the inner skin raw.
She didn’t bother to turn around, just dropped on all fours.
He stood behind her, then dropped to his knees and slapped her rear.
“Are you ready for it, babe?”
“Ready, willing, and able.”
“You really want it?”
“I really want it.”
“Say it again.”
“I really want it!”
“Say it with conviction!” Again Eric slapped her ass, his leathery hand stinging her hide. “I want to hear conviction!”
She smiled. She liked Eric. He was gentle.
“I said I really, really want it!”
“Get mean, Tandy! I want to hear mean!”
“I really, really want it! Give it to me now, or I’ll blow your toes off!”
Eric laughed. “Blow my toes off?”
“One! At! A! Time!” she yelled. “Give it to me, Eric!”
“I can’t hear you!”
“Give it to me now!”
“Still can’t hear you!”
“Give it to me!” she screamed, feeling the heat in her face.
“Still, still can’t hear you!”
“GIVE IT TO ME, DAMN IT! GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!”
“Atta girl, babe! Now that’s conviction!”
She closed her eyes, then held her breath until she felt the quick thrust of the needle in her butt. Slowly, she blew out air, feeling the surge in her body.
In control.
She grinned.
Life was good!
It tasted like wet sand. Decker didn’t know if it was the apple itself or his taste buds, but he ate it just to be polite. Cindy was worried about him, so he wanted to exhibit some normal behavior. As if doing routine things might suddenly turn the ordeal into something routine. His daughter and partner watched him chew. He became aware of the workings of his jaw, and it made his teeth hurt. He swallowed dryly and took his daughter’s hand.
“Thanks, princess.”
Marge stood. “You sit. I’ll get you some coffee.”
Decker nodded. Passivity was a role he seldom played, but he couldn’t summon enough strength to think on his own.
“This is the worst part, Daddy. The waiting.” Cindy hesitated a beat. “Maybe I should check to see if the baby’s been assigned to a nursery yet?”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
Marge came back with the coffee.
“She’s a good kid, your daughter.”
“The best.”
“How was it having her for the summer?”
“Terrific. I think being needed has done wonders for her self-confidence. She’s been an enormous help to Rina these past couple of weeks … drove the boys all around. I’ll be sorry to see her leave.”
“How did she like her first year away?”
“She liked Columbia enough to go back. I think she enjoyed herself.”
“The typical college experience, huh?”
“Yeah, complete with bouts