“It's certainly interesting, isn't it?” Isabelle said, still sounding shocked. Gordon suddenly seemed like a stranger to her. And Louise de Ligne was so much racier and more sophisticated than she had ever been. Isabelle felt utterly stupid for what had gone on under her nose for all those years.

“I want to give it some more thought. Don't do anything yet,” Bill said pensively. Most of all, he didn't want her to get hurt in any way, and she easily could.

“I won't.”

“Remember, if you corner him, he'll strike. That much I know for sure.” She agreed with him a hundred percent. Gordon could be incredibly vicious if you attacked him about anything. She had discovered that about him years ago.

For the next few days, she and Bill talked about it, but they came to no new conclusions, and when Gordon came home, he looked happy and tan, and was surprisingly friendly to her. He even asked how Teddy was, and she assured him he was fine. She didn't say a word about the Comtesse de Ligne.

The only bit of mischief she caused with him was when she handed over his mail to him. She had removed one piece, since it was addressed to both of them, and ever so casually she mentioned that they had been invited to a wedding by the Comte and Comtesse de Ligne. She said she'd accepted it for them both, and it sounded like fun. She looked entirely innocent, and nothing showed in his eyes as he listened to her. He seemed to have no reaction at all.

“Teddy's doctor says I should get out a bit more, and he's right. I assumed you know them, and since it came to both of us, I thought you wouldn't mind if I go,” she said sweetly with wide eyes.

“Not at all,” he said, looking totally unconcerned, and for a moment she wondered if Nathalie was wrong, and then he turned to her with an odd expression. “They're a bit tedious though, they're both very old. I think you might be bored. If you're going to start going out again, I think you ought to choose something a bit more fun.” He seemed solicitous rather than scared.

“How old can they be with a daughter getting married?” Isabelle asked innocently, and Gordon shrugged.

“I don't think she's a very young girl, she's probably an old maid, and very unattractive. It doesn't sound very amusing to me.”

He was very determined that Isabelle not go, and for the first time in years, when dealing with him, she was amused.

“You're right, that doesn't sound like much fun. Should I write and tell them we can't go after all, or would that be too rude?”

“I'll take care of it. Where is the invitation, by the

“It's on my desk.”

“I'll pick it up on my way out. I'll have my secretary take care of it.”

“Thank you, Gordon. I'll send them a nice gift to apologize.”

“I'll have Elisabeth take care of that too. You have enough to do.”

She thanked him sweetly, and he left for the office with the invitation still in his hand, and Bill laughed when she told him about it when he called.

“You're a monster, you are. But remember what I said. Be careful with him, he's no fool. He may be watching now, to see what you do. He may think someone told you something, if your friend is right, and everyone in Paris knows.”

“I won't do anything.” For the next few days, all she did was check to see if he was in his room late at night, and in the early hours when she got up. It was exactly what she'd thought, he didn't come home all night, and didn't expect her to know, since she was tacitly forbidden to come to his rooms. He was presumably at the apartment on the rue du Bac with Louise.

Isabelle and Gordon played cat and mouse with each other for the next month and nothing changed, but then again, it hadn't in years. He had a life with the woman, an apartment, a relationship, in some ways he was more married to her than he was to Isabelle. Just as in some ways, she felt more married to Bill.

He had been at the rehab center for five months by then, and he was stronger, and felt healthier than he had in years. His neck hardly caused him any problem anymore, his shoulders had grown, his hips were slim, and in a bathing suit, when he swam, he looked like a very young man. More of the sensation in his legs had returned, and he could move more easily in his wheelchair, but not only could he not walk, he couldn't stand. His legs just didn't have the strength, and they collapsed under him when he put any weight on them at all. Even the braces they'd fit him for didn't work. He fell even faster when he wore those. And the deal he'd made with himself about Isabelle wasn't looking good.

He was still meeting with Dr. Harcourt, the sex therapist, despite his initial resistance. He still insisted that sex was over for him. It had been too traumatic for him when it hadn't worked with Isabelle, and he was convinced nothing would change. But he enjoyed talking to Linda Harcourt anyway. She gave him a constant flow of interesting books. But he remained unconvinced.

To complicate matters further, Jane and Joe came to him in March, and told him they wanted to get engaged. Although he liked Joe very much, Bill was upset about it, and had several long talks with Cynthia on the phone. She was much more understanding about it than he, and they argued about it for several weeks. And in the end, Bill had a long talk with Jane when she came up to see him from NYU.

“Daddy, we know what we're doing. We're not kids. I've been around here for seven months. I know what I'm getting into.” Because of the nature of his injuries, Joe wore diapers, took medications, and only had the use of one arm. His limitations were more extensive than Bill's. He had been accepted for law school in the fall, and he had a fine mind. And the doctors thought, but were not certain, that he could have children eventually. Linda had explained to Bill that some men, although unable to perform sexually on their own, were still able to impregnate their wives, with medical help. It was not clear if Joe was one of those. He was one of her patients too. But as far as Bill was concerned, Joe had youth on his side. At Bill's age, he was no longer willing to be “experimental” or make a fool of himself. He was prepared to abstain entirely from sex for the rest of his life. He accepted that as an inevitability, unlike Joe.

“You don't know what you're getting into,” Bill argued with her. “He's going to be completely dependent on you, physically and emotionally.”

“That's not true. Joe takes care of me, he's the only man who ever has, except you. He's going to be a lawyer, he invested the settlement money from the accident, he has a million dollars in blue chip stocks, and some very good investments. Mom's stockbroker looked at it, and he said Joe's done all the right things. And if he can't go rock climbing, or do the waltz, I don't care.”

“Maybe you will one day.”

“You and Mom didn't make it, and you could walk then. What's so different about this? Why are we so much worse off than you were, when you got married?”

“Because he's handicapped,” Bill insisted, “that's going to be a tremendous burden on you. Your mom and I didn't make it when I could walk, as you put it, I wouldn't even consider marrying her the way I am today.”

“That's pathetic. I can't believe you think that way.” He was suddenly sorry that she'd ever come to the hospital, and he'd introduced her to Joe. He had thought it was harmless, but he'd been wrong. He argued with Isabelle and Cynthia, and both his daughters for the next two weeks, and finally he sat down and talked to Joe. He expected a lot of sincere, earnest pressure from him, and it was obvious that Bill was upset before the conversation even began. But he wasn't prepared for what Joe had to say.

“I know how you feel, Bill,” Joe said quietly. He had heard it all from Jane. She was furious with her father over it, and wanted to elope with Joe. But Joe respected her and Bill too much for that. “I can't tell you you're wrong. I can't tell you it will be an easy road, we both know it's not. I know. I understand that better than Jane. And we're both young. Marriage isn't easy at the best of times. My parents are divorced, you and Cynthia are too. There are no guarantees in life. Nothing is a sure thing. But I also think that Jane and I share a special bond, I honestly think we can make it work. I'm going to do everything I can to protect her and love her and take care of her,” there were tears in his eyes and Bill turned away, he didn't want to be swayed. “But I also respect you too much to do something you don't want. I trust your judgment, even though I think you're wrong about this. I think you and I have as much right to a good life, and a good marriage, as anyone else. Just because I can't walk or use my left arm doesn't mean I have no right to love. I hope you believe that too, for your sake. But if you don't want me to marry her, if you say no, I'll tell her I thought about it and changed my mind. If that's what you want, I'd rather she hate me than you, you're her father, she needs you, maybe even more than she needs me. And I don't want to be part of your family if you don't want me to be. It's up to you.” Bill felt sick as he listened to him. He wanted it all to be true, but he just thought it was too hard for both of them, and he wanted to protect his little girl. He wanted her to have a man who could walk into the sunset with her, under his own steam.

“What if you find out you can't have kids after you try?” That was a big issue to him, and he knew it would be to Jane one day.

“Then we'll adopt. Jane and I have talked about it. There are no guarantees for anyone. A lot of couples who don't have our challenges find out they can't have kids. We'll do whatever seems right to both of us.”

Bill knew he couldn't ask for more from any man. Joe was decent, loving, crazy about Jane, intelligent, polite, considerate, educated, financially sound, but he was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It was the hardest decision Bill had ever made. He listened to Joe for a long time, and then with tears in his eyes he held out his arms and the two men embraced.