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and we were on our way up before Bart could reach

Cindy.

"Learn to keep your mouth shut," said Jory.

"You only make him worse, Cindy--and I regret what

I just said. Did you see

his face? I don't think he's

pretending about religion. He's deadly serious. He

seems to truly believe. If Joel is a hypocrite, Bart is

not." Chris fixed his strong regard on both before he

stepped out of the elevator. "Jory, Cindy, you listen to

me carefully. I want you both to do your best tonight

to see that Bart's party is successful. Forget your

enmity, at least for one night. He was a troubled little

boy, and he has grown into a more troubled man. He

needs help, and badly. Not from more sessions with

psychiatrists, but help from those who love him

most--and despite everything, I know you both love

him. Just as his mother and I love him and care what

happens to him. As for Melodie, I visited her before

dinner, and she's not feeling well enough to attend the

party. She wouldn't let me examine her, though I tried

to insist, and she says she feels too big, too clumsy

and won't be coming out where guests can stare at her

enormous size. I think that might be the best solution

for her. But if you would, look in on her and say a few

kind words of encouragement, for that poor girl is

coming apart from worry . . ."

Jory steered his chair down the hall, turning

directly into his room, ignoring Melodie's closed door.

I sighed, as did Chris.