Still Waters

on the telephone table, a safe distance from the sofa.

Zack drank the milk and offered the glass to Corry, who haughtily sniffed it and declined. 'Tell me what happens now,' he said, frowning at the glass as he rolled it between his palms.

'To… Theresa?'

'Yes, of course.' He lifted his gaze to hers, that funny half-smile back on his lips. 'I'm pretty sure I know what's going to happen with us.'

Maddy's whole body broke into goose bumps, responding to something in his voice that felt strangely like warm hands on her skin. She looked desperately around for a puppet, but the only one within reach was Boz, and she certainly couldn't be trusted.

'Well,' Maddy said, after clearing her throat once more, 'first people-a juvenile officer and a public-health nurse, probably-will go pay the family a visit. They will check on the home environment, talk to the parents and tell them a report is being filed, check Theresa to see if she needs medical attention-' She stopped because Zack had made a noise, but he waved her on. She continued with more assurance, finding refuge from the unfamiliar feelings he was arousing in her, in the familiar realities of her professional routines.

'They'll evaluate the situation-recommend what needs to be done, put the parents in touch with the right agencies, support groups-'

'What about the kid?' Zack interrupted. 'Won't they get her out of there? She's been hit before, I'd stake my life on it, and she's going to get hit again, unless somebody does something to stop it!'

'Somebody is doing something,' Maddy said patiently. 'You did the most important part-you reported it. Now let the professionals handle it. Zack… they do know what to do.'

'Right… I know. I'm sorry.' Controlling himself with a visible effort, he sat back and stretched his arms out along the top of the sofa. Maddy watched the thin knit of his polo shirt pull taut across his chest, and swallowed.

'Tell me something,' he said, watching her with a thoughtful appraisal that made her self-consciousness even worse. 'How did you get into this? Were you an abused child yourself?'

'Of course not!' She stared at him. 'What on earth makes you think-'

He shrugged and said, 'Sorry,' but didn't soften his unnerving scrutiny. 'It seemed to make sense. You have a pathological fear of water, and that kind of phobia usually comes from a real trauma of some kind, doesn't it? And then, you're unusually shy for such a beautiful woman-'

'I'm not!'

'Not shy, or not beautiful?' He was smiling at her now, a rare smile that touched his eyes with a soft sparkle.

Words failed her. Again. She felt gauche and stupid. She felt thirteen, with adolescent males staring, red-faced, at her bosom. What could she say that wouldn't sound either false or egotistical? She was shy, and she was supposedly beautiful. She'd been told often enough that she was. How could she ever hope to explain to anyone that she just didn't think of herself that way? On an unexpected tidal wave of memory came the image of her own nine-year-old face in the bathroom mirror, pale and round-eyed, trying not to wince as her mother's hands pulled and tugged her masses of corn-silk hair into tight, stiff braids. And above her own face was her mother's, thin-lipped with disapproval, her voice cold, her words punctuated by the jerking of her hands. 'Pretty is as pretty does, Amanda. The devil himself can put on a pretty face.'

Maddy took a deep breath and said evenly, 'I'm not very good with snappy comebacks. And I'm not very comfortable with men who are self-assured and… glib.'

'Glib?' He looked genuinely surprised. 'That's the last thing I want to be. I'm just trying to get to know you better, that's all. I made an observation and came to a very natural conclusion. You certainly are beautiful, and you seem shy, at least around me.'

'I guess maybe I am,' she murmured, embarrassed by her churlishness. 'Around you.'

'Why?' He leaned forward suddenly, intent on her answer. When she only shrugged and muttered evasively, he prompted, 'I don't make you nervous, do I? Why, because of the swimming? The fact that you fainted in my arms? What?'

Maddy stared at him, wondering if the man could possibly be real. 'You're… Zack London!' To her, at least, that explained everything.

He made a disgusted noise and sat back, lacing his fingers behind his head. Corry gave a small meow of complaint and blinked in a resigned sort of way before rearranging himself on Zack's lap. After a moment Zack heaved a sigh, and said, 'Maddy, I'm just a guy who worked real hard and practiced a lot, and that was a long time ago. Don't confuse me with some glossy image you saw on a billboard once upon a time. That wasn't me up there. I'm just a small-town guy. I'm nobody you should be intimidated by.' He shook his head, and laughter crinkled the corners of his eyes for an instant. 'If anything, I'd say you'd be accustomed to doing the intimidating.'

Maddy found herself laughing, too, but with self-deprecation. 'I guess I do intimidate some people, for some reason. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm so tall.'

'Or so blond,' Zack said with a straight face.

'But that isn't me either,' she said earnestly. She touched her chest. 'In here, I'm just… Amanda from Indiana.' She shrugged helplessly, wondering if he would understand.

For a minute she thought he wouldn't. Then, to Corry's disgust, he stood up and held out his hand. 'Hello, Amanda from Indiana,' he said briskly. 'I'm Zachary. Nice to meet you.'

Startled, and then entranced, Maddy slowly stood and placed her hand in his and felt its warmth flow through her. She heard herself say, 'Nice to meet you, Zachary.'

He didn't let go of her hand. 'Overs?' he asked softly.

'Overs.' Her own voice was breathy, and very faint.

'Good. Now, tell me, Amanda from Indiana, just what do you do?'

'I'm a social worker,' she answered promptly, getting into the spirit of the thing. 'Oh-and I make puppets.'

'Great! We have a lot in common. I sell sporting goods. And I teach swimming.'

She smiled, and felt the smile blossom into laughter. It felt good. 'How nice! Children or adults?'

'Children.' His eyes caught hers and held on. 'And in rare and very special cases… adults.'

She stared back at him, her smile fading, hopelessly tongue-tied once more.

'Maddy, I'd like to teach you to swim.'

'Oh, no-I couldn't.' She pulled her hand from his warm and oddly comforting grasp, and, because her hands felt so empty, picked up Bosley. Instead of fitting the dragon over her hand, she hugged it to her chest. Its head flopped forlornly over her arms. What was it about this man that made her feel so naked and exposed that she needed to keep something solid between them?

'Why not?' he asked. He was frowning at her, quietly implacable.

'Well… because…' She fumbled to a stop, then asked uncertainly, 'You don't mean private lessons?'

'Yes, I do. At my house. My pool.'

'Oh, no.' She took a step backward, shaking her head firmly. 'No, I really couldn't. It wouldn't be-'

Zack sighed. 'Dorothy, haven't you noticed? This isn't Kansas. And I'm not the wicked witch of the West. I've got nothing in mind except teaching you to swim.'

'Oh. Well, of course not. I mean…' How foolish of her to think… whatever she'd thought. She didn't know what to think, that was the problem. In fact, she felt very much as if she had been hit by a tornado. The idea of learning to swim was terrifying; the idea of Zack London's teaching her to swim was both terrifying and exhilarating. She licked dry lips and murmured, 'I can't afford you.'

His gaze was following the movement of her tongue across her lips, but his expression was carefully dispassionate. 'Did I say anything about charges? I'd consider you a professional challenge.'

She said faintly, 'You're serious, aren't you?'

'Oh, yes.' When she still felt as if she'd been turned to stone, he carefully removed Bosley from her clutches and took both of her cold hands in his. 'Maddy… look. I told you before, I know it took courage for you to show up at that pool the other day. I admire you for that. I know what this must mean to you. You need to learn to swim, not just for all the usual reasons, but because you owe it to yourself. And I'm the