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"I'm sorry, sorry that I didn't come to see you as soon as I had returned and sorry that I broke the news of my new marriage the way I did at lunch. It was insensitive of me and I apologize. Mildred is very upset about everything. She wanted so much to get you to like her. Really, she did. You believe that, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, Daddy," I said dryly.

"Mildred says all that's happened to you this last year is a considerable emotional burden on top of the normal emotional burden teenagers carry these days. She's very wise when it comes to these things, you see. She has a daughter of her own, as well as a son. I hope you will meet them someday soon."

When I didn't reply, he continued.

"I'd ask you to come with us to Maine, but . . ."

"I can't go to Maine, Daddy. I'm modeling for a new Tatterton toy, a portrait doll," I said, "and I'm very busy with it."

"Oh?"

"I would have told you all about it if we had been alone," I snapped.

"You could have spoken about it at lunch. Mildred is my wife now and she wants to be a mother to you."

"I have a mother."

"Well, at least a good friend, then. So, you're modeling. Sounds exciting. Are you enjoying it?"

I hesitated. Should I blurt it all out over the phone, make him feel terrible for not meeting me privately? Would he come to Farthy immediately, come charging into the house and demand an audience with Tony and my mother, and then bawl them out and take me away with him?

But I would have to go off with him and his new wife and her children, his new family. Would I like that?

"Yes, Daddy," I said. "I'm enjoying it. It's going to make me very famous," I said petulantly. He was silent a long moment.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Leigh. Would you like to try again, meet us for dinner tonight, perhaps?"

"No, Daddy. I can't tonight. I have to go to sleep early because I have an early morning session and I have to be fresh and wide awake all over," I said. I thought he might ask why I said "all over," but he didn't.

"Perhaps when we return from Maine then," he said. "Perhaps."

"Leigh, please believe me when I tell you I love you." "I believe you, Daddy," I replied quickly.

"You'll always be my little princess, no matter what," he added in the voice that brought back a hundred memories. How I wanted him near me now, to hug me and kiss me just the way he often did when he returned home from a cruise or business trip. But all he was, was a tiny, faraway voice on a phone.

"Bye, Leigh. We'll call you when we come back."

"Bye, Daddy." I lowered the receiver slowly. My body began to shake with dry sobs. Troy came running to me and embraced me.

"Don't cry, Leigh. Please, don't cry."

"I won't, Troy." I held my breath a moment and then smiled. "I'm all right. Come," I said, "let's go see what Rye Whiskey can fix for me."

I took his hand again and we went out.

Later that afternoon, my mother came to Troy's suite looking for me, curious about my day with my father. She was surprised to hear that he had remarried and wanted to know all about his new wife. I didn't tell her I had run out on them.

"She's tall and thin and her nose is long and bony," I said. She smiled at that. "She has a poor complexion, pockmarks on her forehead, and her hair looks like she rarely washes it. It's dull and full of gray streaks."

"I'll never let my hair turn gray," Momma said quickly. "It's so unnecessary for a woman to go through that."

"She has no figure," I continued, enjoying the way I ran down my father's new wife, "but Daddy likes her because she is an accountant and she is very efficient."

"Just the kind of woman he would like. You must have had a dreadful time, poor thing."

"And she has her own family with grown-up children!" I exclaimed.