Seattle. When Mary Lisa was five years old, her grandmother introduced her to the stage. It had been a love affair since that first magic moment when sheâd looked at Bottom lying in mountains of soft greenery with beautiful Titania cooing over him, feeding him peeled grapes. Such a wonderful memory. Monicaâs voice brought her back as she answered her father, âChamp Kuldak ready to retire? I donât think so, Dad. I doubt heâd willingly retire until they bury his carcass. But youâre right, heâs old enough to retire and fish or putter in a garden, whatever old men do. And after all these years, heâs finally vulnerable. I donât think heâs going to do much. Rest on his record thatâs mediocre at best?â
Mary Lisa saw the brief ironic smile play over her fatherâs face, but he said nothing, only nodded. He turned to look at Mary Lisa. âAs you can see, weâve got lots of excitement going on here. Iâm very glad youâre home, honey. Itâs been too long and my Porsche is running a bit rough. Would you take a look at it?â
âAt least itâs running,â she said, and laughed. âIâll bet you itâs the plugs again. You and plugs, youâve never learned to rub along well together.â She sat forward. âDo you guys know that when Dad visited me a couple of months ago, everyone wanted to know who the movie star was, and wanted to meet him?â
âHow embarrassing for you, George,â Kathleen said with a delicate shudder.
âNot at all. I basked in the attention from all of Mary Lisaâs young friends. An old guy like me loves to have a couple of pretty girls smile at him.â
Mary Lisa laughed. âMore like a dozen pretty girls, Dad.â She looked up at her sisters and Mark. âWhen I took him to the gym with me and my friends, I thought some of the women were going to jump him.â
Monica and Kelly beamed, but Kathleen frowned. Her husband said in a light voice, smiling toward his wife, âI tried not to sweat too much.â
Mary Lisa laughed again. âItâs great to see you, too, Dad. Donât worry about your precious Porsche. Iâll look at it before you go to the office tomorrow morning.â She knew he was probably the only one in this elegant dining room who really loved her, and not only because she was the only one who was his female double in her coloring and body. They had spent so much time together when she was a girl that she could lay tile, set a window, fix a toilet, hang wallpaper with no visible seams, and coax his Porsche into running like it had when she was ten years old, the same year her grandmother had told her she was a born actress, shortly before sheâd died of breast cancer.
It seemed the only thing her mother had given her was her supercilious eyebrows, which, as it turned out, Sunday Cavendish used often to excellent effect. Monica and Kelly, though, strongly resembled their motherâdark hair and eyes and willowy builds. Except Kelly was streaking her hair now. It was charming and sexy.
George Beverly said to Monica, âI hope you wonât spoil it for us, Monica. Iâve found over the years I rather like seeing both our federal and state governments gridlocked. That way itâs harder for the nincompoops to hurt us.â
Kathleen said, voice sharp, âYour daughter is not a nincompoop.â
Monica opened her mouth and shut it. Mary Lisa knew she wasnât about to argue with anything her father said because she wanted money from him. Monica wasnât stupid.
Mark laughed, his eyes on Mary Lisa. âTrue enough, sir, but at least if she does become a nincompoop, sheâll be the most beautiful of all of them. And Monica is your daughter after all. Maybe sheâll stay above the money-grubbing powermongers.â He continued seamlessly. âMary Lisa, I havenât congratulated you yet for all your
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