Still Waters

me. I know she'd be happier-'

'For how long? Two days? A week? She forms an attachment to you, and then she's got to adjust to another change. And you-do you really think it would be easier for you to let her go then?'

Maddy took a deep breath. 'Then let me be her foster home. Come on, Larry, why not?'

The psychologist made an exasperated sound and turned away from the window. 'Maddy…'

She gripped the sleeve of his rumpled tweed jacket. 'Larry, if you put in a recommendation-'

'I don't see how I could do that, Maddy.'

'Why?'

'Maddy, you're not seeing things very clearly. Which is precisely why you shouldn't have allowed yourself to get involved emotionally in a case. To begin with, you're single, a working woman, with no experience with children.'

'No experience! What about my work here at the clinic? What about my programs in the schools? I see hundreds of children!'

'See them, sure. But that's not living with them. Raising them. Dealing with the everyday problems- the tears and tantrums, the mess, the noise, the inconvenience. And most of all, the constant and unremitting responsibility.'

'Don't lecture me, Larry. I'm not a child, and I think I know very well what that little girl needs. She needs a lot of love and patience and affection, and I think I can give it to her!'

'Maddy.' Larry's eyes and voice were kind. 'What Theresa needs more than anything is a normal home environment. Can you honestly tell me you could provide her with that? The way you live? In a fairy-tale cottage, surrounded by talking toys and a cat with a weird sense of humor? You know the standards for foster homes as well as I do. Honey, you can't give her a bedroom to sleep in. You don't even have a bedroom to sleep in!'

Maddy just stared at him, frustrated by her yearnings and the knowledge that he was right. After a moment Larry pursed his lips and asked softly, 'And then what happens… when she's adopted?'

'Adopted?'

'If no other relatives can be located, we'll push to have Theresa released for permanent adoption. As a matter of fact, we've already had an inquiry about Theresa, from someone interested in permanent custody.'

'Someone's asked about adopting Theresa? Already?' Maddy was stunned. 'Who? Who could possibly know she'd be-'

'Someone you might have heard of, actually.' Larry's face was carefully blank. 'Zack London.'

'What?' Maddy's voice rose to an incredulous squeak. 'You can't be serious!' Of all the emotions bumping into one another inside her, the most recognizable were jealousy and a sense of betrayal. He knew how she felt about Theresa. Why hadn't he said anything to her about this yesterday?

Larry was gazing placidly at her. 'Sure am. Came to see me this morning, as a matter of fact. Of course, I told him he was a bit premature-'

'Premature! Larry, he's no more qualified to be a parent than I am! You don't mean to tell me he'd be seriously considered-'

Larry looked stern. 'On the contrary, Maddy, he's a lot more qualified than you are. He's at least had experience raising a child. He's financially secure, and capable of providing materially for a child.'

'He's single!'

'That's true,' Larry murmured, nodding sagely. 'That's true. But not likely to remain so forever. Once he's had some time to heal-'

'How do you know? About Zack London, I mean? You sound as if you know him personally.'

'Oh, Zack and I have worked together on various projects-Boy's Club, Parks and Rec.' Larry shrugged and smiled.

Feeling frustrated and outwitted, Maddy abruptly turned her back on Larry and began stuffing puppets into their cases with uncharacteristic disregard for their well-being.

'Hey… Maddy, listen.' Larry Whitlaw was a good friend, and when he placed his big hands gently on her shoulders her anger at him ebbed. Her shoulders sagged, and he massaged them sympathetically. 'You know that if anybody else did this, I'd put 'em on leave of absence, don't you? Emotional basket cases we don't need around here.'

She shook his hands off and laughed painfully. 'So what makes me an exception?'

He waved a hand at the puppet cases. 'At the risk of making you impossible to live with, I guess a lot of people around here think you're damn near irreplaceable.'

She placed a hand over her heart and groaned. 'Please. I don't think my ego can stand it!'

He chuckled, and gazed fondly at her for a moment. 'Tell you what. I don't see any harm in your maintaining contact with Theresa, once she's established in her foster home. I've no objection to a friendly relationship, as long as it doesn't interfere with her adjustment to her new environment and isn't disruptive to her or the foster parents. Is that understood?'

'Understood,' Maddy said softly, and smiled radiantly.

But as she loaded her puppets into her car, she was thinking, with an acknowledged lack of fairness, Zack London, how could you do this to me?

It was probably a good thing Maddy was still angry with Zack when she arrived at his home for her first swimming lesson. Without that spine-stiffening core of resentment, she might never have made it from her car to the front door. As it was, the finger that punched the doorbell shook noticeably. Maddy noticed it, and clenched her hand into a fist. Lord, how she wished she'd brought one of her puppets along! Bosley would have known exactly how to deal with this…

A moment later she was thinking that Bosley, in her new incarnation, at least, would have had a field day.

Zack opened the door himself. He was wearing only a pair of swimming trunks and a light blue cotton something with a hood. The blue thing-a light jacket or cover-up of some sort-was unzipped and hanging negligently off his broad shoulders. His chest, torso, and those long, smooth-muscled swimmer's legs were bare. Maddy stared resentfully at him. Why couldn't he have had a maid? His house, like all the houses in this part of town, was big, custom-built, and overlooked the golf course. She would have thought Zack London at least would have a maid.

He, in his turn, was looking her up and down, taking in her neat navy blue linen slacks and white cableknit cotton sweater. 'Hi. Glad you came,' he said with amusement in his voice and eyes. 'Did you come to swim, or ski?'

'It gets cold in the evenings,' she said defensively, clutching her oversized purse tightly. 'And I don't make a habit of driving around town in a bathing suit.'

He mumbled something that sounded like 'Pity,' and stood aside. 'Come on in. You can change in the bathroom.'

'Thank you,' she said primly. Her teeth had developed a tendency to chatter. She clamped them together firmly and said brightly, 'Nice place.' She waved a hand that encompassed both Zack's manicured front lawn and the golf course beyond it. 'Do you play golf?'

'Not much.' His expression and voice were neutral. 'Carol-my wife-played quite a bit.'

'Oh.' In her dismay, Maddy forgot to keep her teeth clenched. Sure enough, they made an audible clattering noise.

Zack glanced at her with interest. 'Are you really that cold, or is it nerves?'

'Cold,' she mumbled, hugging herself and lying with conviction. 'Definitely.'

'Uh-huh.' Zack's expression was carefully serious. 'Well, it would probably help if you came in off my front doorstep.'

'Doorstep?' she looked around, surprised to find that she was still outside. 'Oh…'

Zack held the door, politely waiting. Maddy stayed where she was. After a moment Zack sighed, took her arm, and pulled her across the threshold.

'Nice house,' she said, looking around desperately.

The living room was enormous, immaculate, and sterile, done in neutrals and cool shades of blue and sea