Do you remember losing your parents?
Not in any real way. I was too little to remember anything when my father died, and not much older when my mother left me at the home. I remember the day they told me she had died. I cried, but I'm not really even sure why I cried. I don't think I remembered her. Maybe I just felt abandoned.
The way you do now!" It was a guess, but a good one.
Maybe. That bottomless feeling of but who will take care of me now?' I think of that sometimes. Back then I knew the home would take care of me until I grew up. Now I know Peter will, and Marion's money will, until I'm all patched up. But then what?
What about Michael? Do you think he'll come back to you?
Sometimes I do. A lot of the time I do. There was a long pause.
And the rest of the time?
I'm beginning to wonder. At first I thought that maybe he was afraid of the way I'd look, the way that would make him feel about me. But by now lie knows about the surgery, and he must figure there's some improvement. So how come he's not here yet? She turned to face Faye squarely. That's what I wonder.
Do you come up with any answers to that question?
Nothing very pretty. Sometimes I think she's gotten to him, and convinced him that a girl from my 'unsavory background' will harm him professionally. Marion Hillyard has helped build an empire, and she's counting on Michael to carry on in the best family traditions. That doesn't include marrying a nameless nobody out of an orphange, an artist yet. She wants him to marry some debutante heiress who can do him some good.
Do you think that matters to him?
It didn't used to matter, but now ' I don't know.
What if you lose him?
Nancy flinched but she didn't answer. Her eyes said everything though.
What if he didn't feel able to cope with all that you're going through? That's possible, Nancy. Some men aren't as brave as we like to think they are.
I don't know. Maybe he's waiting till it's all over.
Wouldn't you resent him then? For not being here when you need him?
Nancy let out a long sigh in answer. Maybe. I don't really know. I think about it all a lot, but I don't have many answers.
Only time has the answers. All you need to know is how you feel. That's all. How do you feel about you? The new you? Are you excited? Scared? Angry that you'll look different? Relieved?
All of the above. They both laughed at her honesty. To tell you the truth, it terrifies me. Can you imagine looking in the mirror after twenty-two years and seeing someone else there? Christ, talk about freaking out!" She laughed but there was real fear in the laughter.
Are you freaked out?
Sometimes. A lot of the time I don't think about it.
What do you think about?
Honestly?
Sure.
Michael. Peter sometimes. But mostly Michael.
Are you falling in love with Peter? There was no hesitation in the question. This was Dr. Allison speaking now, not Faye. She was thinking only of Nancy.
No, I couldn't fall in love with Peter. He's a nice man, a good friend. He's sort of like the wonderful father I never had. He brings me presents all the time. But ' I'm in love with Michael.
Well, we'll just have to see what happens. Faye Allison looked at her watch and was amazed. The two of them had been talking for almost three hours. It was after seven o'clock. Good Lord, do you know what time it is? Nancy looked at her watch, too, and her eyes widened in surprise.
Wow! How did we do that? And then she smiled. Will you come back and see me again sometime, Faye? Peter was right. You're a very special lady.
Thank you. I'd love to. In fact' Peter was thinking that we might do it on a regular basis. What do you think?
I think it would be wonderful to have someone to talk to, like we did today.
I can't always promise you three hours. They both laughed as Nancy walked her to the door. How about three times a week for an hour, professionally? And we can get together separately, as friends. Sound okay to you?
Sounds wonderful.
They shook hands on it at the door, and Nancy was amazed to find herself already impatient for their first official session, only two days away.
Chapter 11
Nancy settled herself comfortably in the easy chair near the fire and sighed as she leaned her head back. She was five minutes early today, and anxious to talk to Faye. She heard the click-clack of her high heels coming across the hall to the study she used for seeing patients, and Nancy smiled and sat up straight in her chair. She wanted to give Faye the full benefit.
Good morning, early bird. Don't you look pretty in red today. And then she stopped in the doorway and smiled. Never mind the red. Let me see the new chin. Faye advanced on her slowly, looking at the lower part of Nancy's face, and at last, with a victorious smile, she found Nancy's eyes.
Well, how do you like it? But she could see the answer in Faye's face. Admiration for Peter's work, and pleasure for the girl.
Nancy, you look beautiful. Just beautiful. Now one could see the lovely young neck, arching gracefully away from the slim shoulders, the delicate chin and gentle, sensuous mouth. What one could see was exquisite and perfectly suited the girl's personality.
Peter's endless sketches and sculptures had not been in vain. My God, I want one like that too!
Nancy chortled with glee, and sat back in the chair, hiding the rest of her face, which was still concealed by bandages, behind the dark brown felt hat she had bought a few weeks before at I. Magnin. It went well with the new brown wool coat and brown boots she was wearing with the red knit dress. Her figure had always been excellent, and with the striking new face she was going to be a very dazzling girl. She was even beginning to feel beautiful, now that she could see something of what was to come. Peter was keeping his promises.
It's embarrassing, Faye. I feel so good I could squeak. And the weird thing is, it doesn't even look like me, but I love it.
I'm glad But what about it not looking like you? Does that bother you, Nancy?
Not as much as I thought it would. But maybe I still expect the rest to look like me. This is just one isolated part, and I never much liked my mouth before anyway. Maybe it'll seem stranger when the rest looks like someone else too. I don't know.
You know something, Nancy? Maybe you ought to just sit back and enjoy it. Maybe you ought to play with this a little. Go with it.
What do you mean?
Well, you're working on being Nancy, and we've been trying to adjust to giving up pieces of that Nancy as we go along. Maybe you ought to just stand back and look at the whole canvas. For instance, did you like your walk before?
Nancy looked puzzled as she thought about it. This was a whole new idea, and something they had never discussed in the four months she'd been seeing Faye. I don't know, Faye. I never thought about my walk.
Well, let's think about it. What about your voice? Have you ever considered a voice coach? You have a marvelous voice, smooth and soft Maybe with a little coaching you could make more of it. Why don't we play with what you've got and really make the most of it? Peter is. Why don't you?
Nancy's face lit up at the idea, and she began to catch some of Faye's excitement. I could develop all kinds of new sides to myself, couldn't I? Play the piano ' a new walk ' . I could even change my name.
Well, let's not leap into any of this. You don't want to feel you've lost yourself. You want to feel you've added to yourself. But let's think about all this. I have a feeling it's going to take us in some very interesting directions.
I want a new voice. Nancy sat back and giggled. Like this. She lowered her voice by several octaves, and Faye laughed.
If you do enough of that, Peter may have to give you a beard.
Terrific. They were suddenly in a holiday mood, and Nancy got up and began to prance around the room. At times like that, Faye remembered how young she really was. Twenty-three now. Her birthday had come and gone, and she was growing
up in ways many people never had to. But beneath the surface, she was still a very young girl.
You know, I do want you to be aware of one thing though, Nancy. She sounded more serious now.
And what's that?
I think you should understand why you're so willing to try out a new you. It's not unusual for orphans, as you were, to feel unsure of their identities. You're not certain what your parents were like, and as a result, you feel as though a piece of you is missing, a link to reality. So it's a lot easier for you to give up parts of the person you once were than it would be for someone who retained very dear images of her parents and all the responsibilities that entails. In some ways it may make things simpler for you.
Nancy was silent, and Faye smiled at her as she sank back into the cozy chair near the fire. It was a wonderful room to see patients in: it set everyone instantly at ease. She had put her grandmother's Persian carpets to good use in the room, which also boasted splendid paneling and old brass sconces. The fireplace was also trimmed in brass, the curtains were old and lacy, there were walls of books, tiny paintings tucked away in unexpected corners, and everywhere was a profusion of leafy ferns. It looked like the home of an interesting woman, and that was exactly the effect Faye wanted. Okay, it's take you some time to think about that. For the moment, there's another serious subject we have to get into. What about the holidays?
What about them? Nancy's eyes closed like two doors, and the laughter of moments before was now completely gone. Faye had known it would be this way, which was why the subject had to be broached.
How do you feel about the holidays? Are you scared?
No. Nancy's face was immobile, as Faye watched.
Sad?
No.
Okay, no more guessing games, Nancy. Suppose you tell me. What do you feel?
You want to know what I feel? Nancy suddenly looked straight back at her, dead in the eye. You want to know? She stood up and strode across the room and then back again. I feel pissed.
Pissed?
Very pissed. Superpissed. Royally pissed.
At whom?
Nancy sank into the chair again and looked into the fire. This time when she spoke her voice was soft and sad. At Michael. I thought he'd have found me by now. It's been over seven months. I thought he'd have been here. She closed her eyes to keep back the tears.
Who else are you mad at? Yourself?
Yes.
Why?
For making the deal with Marion Hillyard in the first place. I hate her guts, but I hate mine worse. I sold out.
Did you?
I think so. And all for a new chin. She spoke with contempt where moments before there had been pride. But they were delving deeper now.
I don't agree with you, Nancy. You didn't do it for a new chin. You did it for a new life. Is that so wrong at your age? What would you think of someone else who did the same thing?
I don't know. Maybe I'd think they were stupid. Maybe I'd understand.
You know, a few minutes ago we were talking about a new life. New voice, new walk, new face, new name. Everything is new, except one thing. Nancy waited, not wanting to hear her say it. Michael. What about thinking of a new life without him? Do you ever think about that?
No. But her eyes filled with tears, and they both knew she was lying.
Never?
I never think of other men. But sometimes I think about not having Michael.
And how do you feel?
Like I wish I were dead. But she didn't really mean that, and they both knew it.
But you don't have Michael now. And it's not so bad, is it? Nancy only shrugged in answer, and then Faye spoke again, her voice infinitely soft Maybe you need to do some real thinking about all that, Nancy.
You don't think he's coming back to me, do you? She was angry again. This time at Faye, because there was no one else to be angry at.
I don't know, Nancy. No one knows the answer to that except Michael.
Yeah. The son of a bitch. She got up and paced the room again, and then like a windup toy winding down, the fury of her pacing slowed, until she finally stood in front of the fire, with tears rolling down her face and her hands clenched on the screen in front of the fire. Oh Faye, I'm so scared.
Of what? The voice was soft behind her.
Of being alone. Of not being me anymore. Of ' I wonder if I've done a terrible thing that I'll be punished for. I gave up love for my face.
But you thought you'd already lost everything. You can't blame yourself for the choice you made, and in the end you may be glad.
Yeah ' maybe ' There were fresh sobs from the fireplace, and Faye watched the slim shoulders shake. You know, I'm scared of the holidays too. It's worse than being back at the orphanage. This time there's no one. Lily and Gretchen left last month, and you're going skiing. Peter's going to Europe for a week, and ' She couldn't stop the tears. But these were the realities of her life now. She had to face them. Faye shouldn't be made to feel guilty for leaving, nor should Peter: they had their own lives, as well as their time with her.
Maybe it's time you got out and made some friends.
Like this? She turned to face Faye again and pulled off the soft brown hat, revealing a great deal of bandaging. How can I go out and meet anyone like this? I'd scare them to death. Look guys, it's Dracula!
It isn't frightening looking, Nancy, and in time it'll be gone. It's not permanent. They're only bandages. People would understand.
Maybe so. But she wasn't ready to believe that. Anyway, I don't need friends. I keep busy with my camera. Peter's gift had been a godsend.
I know. I saw your last batch of prints at Peter's the other day. He's so proud of them he shows them to everyone. It's beautiful work, Nancy.
Thank you. Some of the anger drained out of her with the talk of her work. Oh Faye' She sat back in the chair again and stretched her legs. What am I going to do with my life?
That's what we're working on figuring out, isn't it? And in the meantime, why don't you think about some of what we talked about today? The voice coach, music lessons something to amuse you, and all part of the person you'll become.
Yeah, I guess I will give it some thought. When are you coming back from skiing, by the way?
In two weeks. But I'll leave a number where you can reach me in an emergency. Faye was more worried about Nancy's getting through the holidays than she was willing to admit. Holidays were prime time for depression, even suicide, but Nancy seemed solid for the moment. She just didn't want her to become hysterical in her loneliness. It was rotten luck that she and Peter were going away at the same time, but on the other hand Nancy had to learn not to depend on them too much. Why don't we make an appointment for two weeks from today. And I want to see a mountain of beautiful prints you made over the holidays.
That reminds me. Nancy Jumped up again and vanished into the hallway, where she had left a flat package wrapped in brown paper. When she returned with it, she smilingly held it out to Faye. Merry Christmas.
Faye opened it with a look of pleasure and then of awe. The gift was a photograph of herself that looked as though she had sat for it for hours, to allow the photographer to capture just the right look, the right mood It had a dreamy, impressionistic quality; she had been standing on Nancy's terrace with the wind in her hair, wearing a pale pink silk shirt; and the sun had been setting in red and pink tones behind her. She remembered the day, but couldn't remember Nancy taking the picture. When did you take it? She looked stunned.
When you weren't looking. Nancy looked pleased with herself, and she had every right to be. The photograph was magnificent She had printed it herself and enlarged it, and then had it handsomely framed. It was as expressive as a painting.
You're incredible, Nancy. What a beautiful, beautiful gift.
I had a good subject.
The two women exchanged a hug, and Nancy regretfully shrugged back into her coat Have a wonderful ski trip.
I will. I'll bring you some snow.
>
Smartass. Nancy hugged her again and they wished each other a Merry Christmas as she left There was a tug at Faye's heart after she was gone. Nancy was a beautiful girl. Inside. Where it mattered.
Chapter 12
Mr. Calloway's on the line for you, Mr. Hillyard. The snow had been falling for five or six hours on the already slush-ridden streets of New York, but Michael had noticed nothing. He had been at his desk since six that morning, and it was after five o'clock now. He grabbed for the phone while signing a stack of letters for his secretary to mail. At least the job in Kansas City was off his back. Now he had Houston to worry about, and in the spring he'd be getting ulcers over the medical center in San Francisco. His job was a never-ending stream of headaches and demands, contracts and problems and meetings. Thank God.
George? Mike. What's up?
Your mother's in a meeting, but she asked me to call and tell you that we'll be back from Boston tonight, if the snow lets up. Tomorrow if it doesn't.
Is it snowing there? Michael sounded surprised, as though it were June and snow was preposterous.
No. George sounded momentarily confused. They said there was a blizzard in New York ' isn't there?
Mike looked out his window and grinned. Yeah, there is. I just hadn't looked. Sorry.
The boy was killing himself, just as his mother always bad. George wondered for a moment what it was about the breed that made them so hard on themselves, and on the people who loved them. Anyway, now that we've gotten that settled. George chuckled for a moment She wanted me to call you and make sure you're home for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. She has a few friends coming and of course she wants you there.
Michael took a deep breath as he listened. A few friends. That meant twenty or thirty, all of them people he either disliked or didn't know, and the inevitable single girl, from a good family, for him. It sounded like a stinking way to spend Christmas. Or any other day. I'm sorry, George. I'm afraid I owe Mother an apology. I've got a prior commitment.
You do? He sounded stunned.
I meant to tell her last week and I totally forgot. I was so busy with the Houston center that I just never got to it. I'm sure she'll understand. He'd been working miracles with the Houston client so she'd damn well better understand. Michael knew he had her on that one.
the Promise (1978) Page 8
