The door swung open. The two of them guiltily sprang apart. The receptionist said, "The doctor is finishing up with Mandy. He'll be in shortly."

"Thank you."

After she withdrew, Avery leaned forward from her chair again. "I'm only asking about Eddy because your niece is throwing herself at him, and I'm afraid she'll get hurt."

"My niece? Fancy?" He laughed with incredulity. "She's after Eddy?"

"She told me so the other night, when she came home with a battered face." His smile disappeared. "That's right, Tate. She picked up a cowboy in a bar. They got high. When he couldn't maintain an erection, he blamed it on Fancy and beat her up."

He expelled a long breath. "Jesus."

"Didn't you notice her black eye and swollen lip?" He shook his head. "Well, don't feel too badly. Neither did her own parents," she said bitterly. "Fancy's like a piece of furniture. She's there, but no one really sees her. . .unless she's behaving outrageously. Anyway, she has her sights fixed on Eddy now. How do you think he'll reciprocate?"

"Fancy's just a kid."

Avery gave him an arch look. "You might be her uncle, but you're not blind."

He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "Eddy had his share of coeds while we were at UT. He visited the whorehouses in Nam. I know he's straight."

"Is he currently seeing anyone?"

"He goes out with some of the women who work at headquarters, but it's usually a platonic, group thing. I haven't heard any scuttlebutt that he's sleeping with one of them. Several would probably be willing if he asked.

"But Fancy?" Tate shook his head doubtfully. "I don't think Eddy would touch her. He wouldn't get involved with a woman almost twenty years his junior, particularly Fancy. He's too bright."

"I hope you're right, Tate." After a thoughtful pause, she glanced up at him and added, "And not because I'm interested in him myself."

He didn't have time to comment before the doctor opened the door and entered the office.

TWENTY-FIVE.

"Don't feel too bad, Mrs. Rutledge. Your guilt over past mistakes won't help Mandy now."

"How am I supposed to feel, Dr. Webster? You've all but said that I'm responsible for Mandy's retarded social development."

"You made some mistakes. All parents do. But you and Mr. Rutledge have already taken the first step toward reversing that trend. You're spending more time with Mandy, which is excellent. You're praising even her smallest achievements and minimizing her failures. She needs that kind of positive reinforcement from you."

Tate was frowning. "That doesn't sound like much."

"On the contrary, it's a lot. You'd be amazed how important parental approval is to a child."

"What else should we do?"

"Ask for her opinion often. 'Mandy, do you want vanilla or chocolate?' Force her to make choices and then commend her decisions. She should be made to vocalize her thoughts. My impression is that up till now she's been discouraged to."

He regarded them from beneath rust-colored eyebrows that would have better befitted a cattle rustler with a six-shooter strapped to his hip than a child psychologist with a benign demeanor.

"Your little girl has a very low opinion of herself." Avery pressed her fist to her lips and rolled them inward. "Some children manifest low self-esteem with bad behavior, drawing attention to themselves in that way. Mandy has retreated into herself. She considers herself transparentaof little or no significance."

Tate's head dropped between his shoulders. Bleakly, he glanced at Avery. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She was apologizing for Carole, who didn't deserve his forgiveness.

"It's not all your fault. I was there, too. I let lots of things slide when I should have intervened."

"Unfortunately," Dr. Webster said, directing their attention back to him, "the airplane crash only heightened Mandy's anxiety. How did she behave on the flight here the other day?"

"She raised quite a ruckus when we tried to buckle her into her seat," Tate said.

"I was having a difficult time buckling my own seat belt," Avery confessed honestly. "If Tate hadn't talked me through it, I doubt I could have stood the takeoff."

"I understand, Mrs. Rutledge," he said sympathy- etically. "How was Mandy once you took off?"

They glanced at each other, then Avery answered. "Come to think of it, she was fine."

"That's what I figured. See, she remembers you fastening her into her seat, Mrs. Rutledge, but doesn't remember anything beyond the crash. She doesn't remember you rescuing her."

Avery laid a hand against her chest. "You're saying she blames me for putting her through the crash?"

"To an extent, I'm afraid so."

Shuddering, she covered her mouth with her hand. "My God."

"It will be a real breakthrough when she allows her mind to live through that explosion again. Then she'll remember you rescuing her."

"That would be hell for her."

"But necessary for a complete cure, Mr. Rutledge. She's fighting her memory of it. My guess is that her recurring nightmares lead her right up to the moment of impact."

"She said the fire was eating her," Avery said softly, remembering Mandy's last nightmare. "Is there anything we can do to prod her memory?"

"Hypnosis is a possibility," the doctor said. "What I'd rather do, however, is let her memory evolve naturally. Next time she has one of these nightmares, don't wake her up."

"Christ."

"I know that sounds cruel, Mr. Rutledge, but she's got to experience the crash again to get to the other side of it, to reach safety in the arms of her mother. The terror must be exorcised. She won't overcome her subconscious fear and dread of your wife until then."

"I understand," Tate said, "but it's going to be tough.'

"I know." Dr. Webster stood, signaling that their time was up. "I don't envy you having to stand by and let her relive that horrifying experience. I'd like to see her back in two months, if that's convenient."

"We'll make it convenient."

"And before that, if you think it's necessary. Feel free to call anytime."

Tate shook hands with Dr. Webster, then assisted Avery from her chair. She wasn't the mother Mandy had the subconscious fear and dread of, but she might just as well be. Everyone would lay Carole's blame on her. Even with the support of Tate's hand beneath her elbow, she could barely find the wherewithal to stand.

"Good luck with your campaign," the psychologist told Tate.

"Thank you."

The doctor clasped Avery's hands, sandwiching them between his. "Don't make yourself ill with guilt and remorse. I'm convinced that you love your daughter very much."

"I do. Did she tell you that she hated me?"

The question was routine. He heard it a dozen times a day, particularly from mothers harboring guilt. In this instance, he could provide a positive answer. He smiled a good ole boy's smile. "She speaks very highly of her mommy and only gets apprehensive when referring to events that took place before the crash, which ought to tell you something."

"What?"

"That you've already improved as a parent." He patted her shoulder. "With your continued tender loving care, Mandy will get through this and go on to be an exceptionally bright, well-adjusted child."

"I hope so, Dr. Webster," she said fervently. "Thank you."

He escorted them to the door and pulled it open. "You know, Mrs. Rutledge, you gave me quite a start when I first met you. A young woman did a television interview with me about a year ago. She bears a remarkable resemblance to you. In fact, she's from your area. By any chance, do you know her? Her name is Avery Daniels."

Avery Daniels, Avery Daniels, Avery Daniels.

The crowd was chanting her real name as she and Tate made their way through the crowd toward the dais.

Avery Daniels, Avery Daniels, Avery Daniels.

There were people everywhere. She stumbled and became separated from Tate. He was swallowed by the crowd. "Tate!" she screamed. He couldn't hear her over the demonic recitation of her name.

Avery, Avery, Avery.

What was that? A shot! Tate was covered with blood. Tate turned to her and, as he fell, he sneered, 'Avery Daniels, Avery Daniels, Avery Daniels."

"Carole?"

Avery Daniels.

"Carole? Wake up."

Avery sat bolt upright. Her mouth was gaping open and dry. She was wheezing. "Tate?" She fell against his bare chest and threw her arms around him. "Oh God, it was awful."

"Were you having a bad dream?"

She nodded, burrowing her face in the fuzzy warmth of his chest. "Hold me. Please. Just for a minute."

He was sitting on the edge of her bed. At her request, he inched closer and placed his arms around her. Avery snuggled closer still and clung to him. Her heart was racing, thudding against his chest. She couldn't eradicate the image of a blood-drenched Tate turning to her with contempt and accusation burning in his eyes.

"What brought this on?"

"I don't know," she lied.

"I think I do. You haven't been yourself since Dr. Webster mentioned Avery Daniels." She whimpered. Tate threaded his fingers up through her hair and closed them around her scalp. "I can't believe he didn't know she died in that crash. He was so embarrassed by mentioning it, I felt sorry for him. He had no way of knowing how much the comparison would upset you."

Or why, she thought. "Did I behave like a fool?" All she remembered after the doctor had spoken her name was the clamorous ringing in her ears and the wave of dizziness that had knocked her against Tate.

"Not like a fool, but you almost fainted."

"I don't even remember leaving his office."

He set her away from him. Her hands slid onto his biceps. "It was a bizarre coincidence that you were on the same airplane with the Daniels woman. Strangers often mistook you for her, remember? It's surprising that no one has mentioned her to you before now."

So he had known who Avery Daniels was. That made her feel better somehow. She wondered if he had liked watching her on TV. "I'm sorry I caused a scene. I just get. . ."She wished he was still holding her. It was easier to talk when she didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What?"

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I get tired of people staring at my face all the time. It's an object of curiosity. I feel like the bearded lady in a sideshow."

"Human nature. No one means to be cruel."

"I know, but it makes me extremely self-conscious. Sometimes I feel like I'm still wrapped in bandages. I'm on the inside looking out, but no one can see past my face into me." A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and splashed onto his shoulder.

"You're still upset over the dream," he said, easing her up again. "Would you like something to clrink ? There's some Bailey's in the bar."

"That sounds wonderful."

He divided the small bottle of Irish cream between two drinking glasses and returned to the bed with them. If he was self-conscious about having only his underwear on, he gave no outward sign of it.

It pleased her that he sat back down on her bed, not the one he had been sleeping in before her nightmare woke him up. Only a narrow space separated the beds, but it might just as well have been the Gulf of Mexico. It had taken an emergency to get him to cross it.

"To your victory, Tate." She clinked her glass with his. The liquor slid easily down her throat and spread warmly through her belly. "Hmm. This was a good idea. Thanks."

She welcomed this quiet interlude. They shared all the problems inherent to any married couple, but none of the intimacy. Because of the campaign, they were always in the public eye and under constant scrutiny. That put an additional strain on an already difficult relationship. They shared no counterbalancing pleasure in each other.

They were married, yet they weren't. They occupied the same space, but existed in separate spheres. Until tonight, Mandy had served as a buffer between them in the confines of the hotel room. She'd slept with Avery.

But tonight Mandy wasn't here. They were alone. It was the middle of the night. They were sipping Irish cream together and discussing their personal problems. For any other couple, the scene would result in lovemaking.

"I miss Mandy already," she remarked as she traced the rim of her glass with her fingertip. "I'm not sure we did the right thing by letting her go home with Zee and Nelson."

"That's what we had planned all alongathat they'd take her home after her appointment with Webster."

"After talking to him, I feel like I should be with her constantly."

"He said a few days of separation wouldn't hurt, and Mom knows what to do."

"How did it happen?" Avery mused aloud. "How did she become so introverted, so emotionally bruised?" She asked the questions rhetorically, without expecting a response. Tate, however, took them literally and provided her with answers.

"You heard what he said. He told you how it happened. You didn't spend enough time with her. What time you did spend with her was more destructive than not."

Her temper surged to the surface. In this instance, Carole was getting a bum deal, and Avery felt compelled to take up for her. "And where were you all that time? If I was doing such a rotten job of mothering, why didn't you step in? Mandy has two parents, you know."

"I realize that. I admitted it today. But every time I made the slightest suggestion, you got defensive. Seeing us fight sure as hell wasn't doing Mandy any good. So I couldn't step in, as you put it, without making a bad situation even worse."

"Maybe your approach was wrong." Giving Carole the benefit of the doubt, she played devil's advocate.

"Maybe. But I've never known you to take criticism well."