“You don't think I'm adjusting well?” She sounded hurt, and put the camera down to look at him more seriously.

“I think you're doing remarkably well, Nancy, but if nothing else, you need another person to talk to. You have Lily and Gretchen and me, and that's it. Don't you want someone else to talk to?”

Yes. Michael. He had been her best friend for so long. But for the moment, Peter was enough. “I'm not sure.”

“I think you will be once you meet Faye. She is incredibly warm and kind. And she's been very sympathetic to your case from the beginning.”

“She knows about me?”

“From the first” She had been there the night Marion Hillyard and Dr. Wickfield had called, but Nancy didn't need to know that. He and Faye had been lovers on and off for years, more as a matter of companionship and convenience than as a result of any great passion. They were friends most of all “She's coining to join us for coffee this afternoon. All right with you?”

But she knew she had little choice. “I suppose so.” She grew pensive as she settled herself in the living room. She wasn't at all sure she liked this addition to her scene, particularly a woman. She felt an instant sense of competition and distrust.

Until she met Faye Allison. Nothing Peter had said had prepared her for the warmth she felt from the other woman. She was tall, thin, blonde, and angular, but all the lines of her face were soft. Her eyes were warm and alert; there was an instant Joke, an instant answer, an instant burst of laughter always ready in those eyes. Yet one sensed, too, that she was always ready to be serious and compassionate. Peter left them alone after the first hour, and Nancy was actually glad.

They talked about a thousand things, and none of them the accident Boston, painting, San Francisco, children, people, medical school. Faye shared chunks of her life with Nancy, and Nancy gave her glimpses of herself that she hadn't given anyone for a long time, not since she had first gotten to know Michael. Views of the orphanage, real views, not the amusing ones she gave Peter. The loneliness of it, the questions about who she really was, why she had been left there, what it meant to be totally alone. And then for no reason she could think of, she told Faye about her arrangement with Marion Hillyard. There was no shock, no reproach, there was nothing but warmth and understanding in the way Faye Allison listened, and Nancy found herself sharing feelings which covered years, not just the past four months. But the relief of telling her about Marion Hillyard was enormous.

“I don't know, it sounds so strange to say it, but—” She hesitated, feeling foolish, and looking childlike as she glanced up at her new friend. “But I … I had never had any kind of family, growing up in the orphanage. The mother superior was the closest I had to a mother, and she was more like a maiden aunt. But despite what I knew about Marion, from Michael, from his friend Ben, just from what I sensed—despite all that, I always had these crazy dreams, fantasies, that she would like me, that we would be friends.” Her eyes filled with unexpected tears and she looked away.

“Did you think that maybe she'd become your mother?”

Nancy nodded silently and then blinked away the tears with a terse laugh, “Isn't that insane?”

“Not at all. It was a normal assumption. You were in love with Michael. You have no family of your own. It's normal that you should want to adopt his. Is that why your deal with her hurt so much?” But she already knew the answer, as did Nancy.

“Yes. It was proof of just how much she hated me.”

“I wouldn't go that far, Nancy. From the look of things, she's done an awful lot for you. She did send you out to Peter for a new face.” Not to mention the extremely comfortable lifestyle she had provided during the process.

“As long as I gave up Michael. She was rejecting me, for him—and for herself. I knew then that I had never had a chance with her. It was a horrible moment.” She sighed, and her voice became more gentle. “But I guess I've lost before and survived it.”

“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.”