Danielle Steel - The Promise

“Has it already been a year?” Faye was astonished as she looked at Nancy one afternoon. Peter was working on the area around her eyes just then, and she was wearing huge dark glasses which hid her cheekbones as well as her eyes.

“Yes. It happened last May. And I've been seeing you for eight months, Faye. Do you really think I'm making progress?” She sounded discouraged. But she was still tired from her last surgery three days before.

“Do you doubt your progress?”

“Sometimes. When I think of Michael too much.” It was a heavy confession for her to make. She was still clinging to the last shreds of hope—that he would finally find her, and the deal with his mother would be off. “I don't know why I still do that to myself, but I do.”

“Wait till you get out in the world a little more, Nancy. You have nothing to do now but look back at things you remember, or ahead at things you don't yet know. It's natural that you'd spend a fair amount of time looking back. You have no other people in your life just now, but you will. In time. Be patient.”

Nancy sighed a long tired sigh. “I'm so sick of being patient, Faye, and I feel like this work on my face will go on forever. Sometimes I hate Peter for it, and I know It's not his fault. He's doing it as fast as he can.”

“It'll be worth the time you invested in it. It already is.” She smiled, and Nancy smiled back. The delicate shape of the girl's face had already emerged, and each week there seemed to be changes. The voice coach had done her work well, too. Nancy's voice was pitched a little lower now, beautifully modulated, and she had far greater control over the smoothness of her voice than anyone without training could have. It gave Faye an idea. “Have you ever thought of acting when this is all over? The experience might give you an incredible amount of insight.”

Nancy smiled at her and shook her head. “Making films maybe, acting in them, no. It's so plastic. I'd rather be at my end of the camera.”

“Okay, it was just a thought. So what's on your agenda for this week?”

“I told Peter I'd take some pictures for him, we're flying down to Santa Barbara for the day on Sunday. He wants to see some people there, and he offered to take me along for the ride.”

“I should lead such a life. Well, kiddo …” She looked at her watch. “See you on Wednesday.”

“Yes ma'am.” Nancy saluted with a smile, and Fred bounced out of the room with his leash in his mouth. He was used to the sessions in Faye's office. Nancy never left him behind.

When she left Faye's office, she decided to walk a few blocks toward a little park nearby, to see if there were any children to photograph in the playground. She hadn't taken any shots of kids in a while. When she got there, there was an ample supply of subjects, climbing and pushing and shoving and running. Nancy sat down on a bench for a while to watch them and get a feeling for who they were and what they were up to. It was a beautiful day, and she felt good about life.

“Do you come here often?”

Michael looked up in surprise from the bench where he sat. He had escaped to the park for an hour, Just to get away from the office and see something green. There was always something magical about those first spring days, when New York turns from gray to lush green, bushes and trees and flowers exploding into life. But he had felt sure he would be alone in the secluded little spot where he had found an empty bench. The sudden voice surprised him. When he looked up he saw Wendy Townsend, the designer from his office.

“No… I… as a matter of fact, almost never. But I was having a rare case of spring fever today.”

“So was I.” She looked embarrassed as she held her dripping ice cream stick and then took a quick lick to keep from losing a big slice of chocolate.

“That looks delicious.” He smiled at her in the warm spring air.

“Want some?” She held it out like a friendly third grader, but he shook his head.

“But thanks for the offer. Would you like to sit down?” He felt a little silly being caught in the park, but it was such a nice day he didn't mind sharing it, and she was a pleasant girl. Their paths had crossed a number of times since she'd walked into his office five months before, to wish him a Merry Christmas. She sat down next to him and ate the last of her ice cream. “What are you working on these days?” he asked.

“Houston and Kansas City. My work is always five or six months behind yours. It's kind of interesting to follow on your heels that way.”

“I'm not quite sure how to take that.” But he wasn't particularly worried about it.

“As a compliment.” She smiled at him from under long auburn lashes.

“Thank you. Is Ben treating you decently or is he the slave driver I tell him to be?”

“He wouldn't know how.”

“I know.” Mike smiled at the thought. “We've known each other for half our lives. He's like my brother.”

“He's a hell of a nice man.”

Mike nodded silently, thinking how little he had seen of Ben in the past year. He never had time. He never made time. He didn't even know what was happening in Ben's life. It had been months since he'd taken the time to find out. It made him feel guilty as he sat next to the girl, lost in his own thoughts. But a lot had changed for him in the past year. He had changed.

“You're a long way away, Mr. Hillyard. Someplace pleasant, I hope.”

He shrugged. “Spring does strange things to me. It kind of makes me stop from year to year and take stock. I think that's what I was doing today.”

“That's a nice idea. For some reason, I always do that in September. I think the idea of the ‘school year’ marked me forever. A lot of other people take stock in January. But spring makes the most sense. Everything is starting again, so why wouldn't we start our lives again each spring?” They exchanged a smile and Michael looked out over the little lake, still except for a few contented-looking ducks. There were no other people in sight. “What were you doing this time last year?” She went on. It was an innocent question, but it cut through him like a knife. A year ago on that day …

“Nothing very different from what I'm doing now.” He furrowed his brow, looked at his watch, and stood up. “I'm afraid I have a meeting in ten minutes. I'd better be getting back. But it was nice chatting with you.” He barely smiled at her before striding away, and she sat there wondering what she had said. She'd have to ask Ben sometime what was wrong with the guy. You couldn't get within a thousand miles of him.

Chapter 14

Much to Michael's surprise, Wendy was scheduled into the same meeting he was, ten minutes later. Ben had wanted her there. They were going to discuss the very early plans for the San Francisco Medical Center, and Interior Design would be a big factor. A lot of local art would be used to highlight the basic design. Ben was going to take care of finding that art himself, but Wendy would be doing a lot of the coordinating on the home front—more than usual, since Ben would be in San Francisco a lot of the time. The project was, of course, a long way away, but it was time to start working out the plans and the problems and the details.

It was a long, demanding, interesting meeting, run in great part by Marion, with George Calloway's assistance. But Michael took an almost equal part in the proceedings. This project was his; his mother had wanted it to be, from the first. Every major architectural firm in the country had been lusting after this job, and Marion intended to use it to establish Michael's name and reputation in the business.

It was almost six o'clock when the meeting ended, and Wendy was drained. She had presented her ideas well, stood up to Marion when she had to, and made a great deal of sense to Mike. Ben was proud of her and patted her on the shoulder as they left.