Mirror Image

heads, and what kind of headlines will that create?”
    The men stood facing each other like two bulls pawing the ground, but at least they were no longer shouting. Avery bent over Fancy again and helped her to her feet. The girl was still so dazed she didn’t put up any resistance, but she whimpered with pain and remorse.
    Tate touched her cheek briefly, then aimed a warning finger at his friend. “Never,
never,
touch a member of my family like that again.”
    “I’m sorry, Tate.” Eddy smoothed his hands over his ruffled hair. His voice was low, composed, cool. The iceman was restored.
    “That’s one area of my life where your opinion doesn’t count,” Tate said angrily, his lips barely moving to form the words.
    “I said I was sorry. What else can I do?”
    “You can stop sleeping with her.”
    All were taken by surprise. Eddy and Fancy had no idea that Tate knew. Avery had told him she suspected it, but that was before she knew it for a certainty. The women remained stunned and silent. Eddy walked to the door.
    Before he went out, he said, “I think we all need time to cool off.”
    Avery looked at Tate with undiluted love and respect for coming so quickly to Fancy’s defense, then placed her arm across the girl’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”
    Once there, she waited while Fancy showered. Emerging from the bathroom, with her hair held away from her scrubbed face by barrettes, and wearing a long T-shirt as a nightgown, she looked young and innocent.
    “I improvised on an ice pack for your lip.” Avery handed her a plastic bag full of ice and led her toward the turned-down bed.
    “Thanks. You’re getting good at that.”
    Fancy propped herself against the headboard and held the ice pack to her lower lip. It had stopped bleeding, but was dark and swollen. She closed her eyes. Tears trickled through her lashes and rolled down her shiny cheeks. Avery lowered herself to the side of the bed and took her hand.
    “That son of a bitch. I hate him.”
    “I don’t think so,” Avery countered softly. “I believe you thought you loved him.”
    Fancy looked at her. “
Thought
I loved him?”
    “I think you were in love with the idea of being in love with him. How much do you really know about Eddy? You told me yourself you knew very little. I think you wanted to be in love with him because you knew deep down that the affair was inappropriate and had no chance of survival.”
    “What are you, an amateur shrink?”
    Fancy could put a strain on anyone’s patience, but Avery evenly replied, “I’m trying to be your friend.”
    “You’re just trying to talk me out of him because you want him for yourself.”
    “Do you really believe that?”
    The girl stared at her for a long moment, and the longer she stared, the more tears filled her eyes. Eventually, she lowered her head. “No. Anybody can see that you love Uncle Tate.” She sniffed her drippy nose. “And he’s ga-ga over you, too.”
    She pulled her lower lip through her teeth. “Oh, God,” she wailed, “why can’t somebody love me like that? What’s wrong with me? Why does everybody treat me like shit, like I was invisible or something?”
    The floodgate had been opened and all her self-doubt came pouring out. “Eddy was just using me to get his rocks off, wasn’t he? I’d hoped that maybe he would love me for something more than just what I was willing to do in bed. I should have known better,” she added in a bitter undertone.
    Avery pulled Fancy into her arms. Fancy resisted for a second or two, then relented and let herself be comforted while she cried against Avery’s shoulder. When her crying subsided, Avery eased her away.
    “You know who should be in on this?”
    Fancy wiped her wet face with the back of her hand. “Who?”
    “Your mother.”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “No. You need her, Fancy. More than that,” Avery said, pressing Fancy’s knee for emphasis, “she needs you. She’s been trying very hard to make up for past mistakes. Why not give her a chance?”
    Fancy thought it over for a moment, then nodded sullenly. “Sure, why not, if it’ll make the old girl feel significant.”
    Avery dialed the room. Jack answered sleepily. “Is Dorothy Rae already in bed? Could she come to Fancy’s room?”
    “What’s wrong?”
    Avery looked at Fancy’s lip and lied, “Nothing. Just a hen party.”
    In under a minute Dorothy Rae knocked. She was in her nightgown. “What is it,