Duma Key(131)

Far too weird. I wanted Wireman and Jack also not here yet but even more, I wanted my people. Illy most of all. If I had them, maybe this would start to feel like reality again. I glanced toward the door.

"If you're looking for Pam and the girls, I expect they'll be right along," Kamen said. "Melinda had a problem with her dress and went up to change at the last minute."

Melinda, I thought. Of course, it would be Mel -

And that was when I saw them, threading their way through the crowd of artistic gawkers, looking very northern and out of place amid the tans. Tom Riley and William Bozeman III the immortal Bozie paced behind them in dark suits. They stopped to look at three of the early sketches, which Dario had set up near the door in a triptych. It was Ilse who saw me first. She cried " DADDY! " and then cut through the crowd like a PT boat with her sister just behind her. Lin was tugging a tall young man in her wake. Pam waved, and also started toward me.

I left Kamen, Kathi, and the Slobotniks, Angel still holding my drink. Someone began, "Pardon me, Mr. Freemantle, I wonder if I could ask-" but I paid no attention. In that moment all I could see was Ilse's glowing face and joyous eyes.

We met in front of the sign reading THE SCOTO GALLERY PRESENTS "THE VIEW FROM DUMA," PAINTINGS AND SKETCHES BY EDGAR FREEMANTLE. I was aware that she was wearing a powder-blue dress I had never seen before, and that with her hair up and what seemed like a swan's length of neck showing, she looked startlingly adult. I was aware of an immense, almost overpowering love for her, and gratitude that she felt the same for me it was in her eyes. Then I was holding her.

A moment later, Melinda was there with her young man standing behind her (and above her he was one long, tall helicopter). I didn't have an arm for her and her sister both, but she had one for me; she grabbed me and kissed the side of my face. " Bonsoir, Dad, congratulations!"

Then Pam was in front of me, the woman I had called a quitting birch not so long ago. She was wearing a dark blue pants suit, a light blue silk blouse, and a string of pearls. Sensible earrings. Sensible but good-looking low heels. Full Minnesota if ever I had seen it. She was obviously frightened to death by all the people and the strange environment, but there was a hopeful smile on her face just the same. Pam had been many things in the course of our marriage, but hopeless was never one of them.

"Edgar?" Pam asked in a small voice. "Are we still friends?"

"You better believe it," I said. I only kissed her briefly, but hugged her as thoroughly as a one-armed man can do it. Ilse was holding onto me on one side; Melinda had the other, squeezing hard enough to hurt my ribs, but I didn't care. As if from a great distance, I heard the room erupt in spontaneous applause.

"You look good," Pam whispered in my ear. "No, you look wonderful. I'm not sure I would have known you on the street."

I stepped back a little, looking at her. "You look pretty fine yourself."

She laughed, blushing, a stranger with whom I had once spent my nights. "Make-up covers a multitude of sins."

"Daddy, this is Ric Doussault," Melinda said.

" Bonsoir and congratulations, Monsieur Freemantle," Ric said. He was holding a plain white box. He now held it out. "From Linnie and me. Un cadeau. The gift?"

I knew what un cadeau was, of course; the real revelation was the exotic lilt his accent gave to my daughter's nickname. It made me understand in a way nothing else could that she was now more his than mine.

It seemed to me that the majority of the people in the gallery had gathered around to watch me open my present. Tom Riley had made it almost to Pam's shoulder. Bozie was next to him. From just behind them, Margaret Bozeman skated me a kiss from the heel of her palm. Next to her was Todd Jamieson, the doctor who had saved my life... two sets of aunts and uncles... Rudy Rudnick, my old secretary... Kamen, of course, he was impossible to miss... and Kathi by his side. They had all come, everyone but Wireman and Jack, and I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to keep them away. But for the moment that seemed secondary. I thought of waking up in my hospital bed, confused and separated from everything by unremitting pain, then I looked around at this and wondered how things could possibly have changed so completely. All these people had come back into my life for one night. I didn't want to cry, but I was pretty sure I was going to; I could feel myself starting to dissolve like a tissue in a cloudburst.

"Open it, Daddy!" Ilse said. I could smell her perfume, something sweet and fresh.

"Open it! Open it!" Good-natured voices from the packed circle watching us.

I opened the box. Pulled out some white tissue paper and uncovered what I had expected... although I had expected something jokey, and this was no joke. The beret Melinda and Ric had brought me from France was dark red velvet, and smooth as silk to the touch. It had not come cheap.

"This is too nice," I said.

"No, Daddy," Melinda said. "Not nice enough. We only hope it fits."

I took it out of the box and held it up. The audienced ohh-ed appreciatively. Melinda and Ric looked at each other happily, and Pam who felt Lin somehow never got her proper share of affection or approval from me (and she was probably right) gave me a look that was positively radiant. Then I put the beret on. It was a perfect fit. Melinda reached up, made one tiny adjustment, faced the watching audience, turned her palms outward to me, and said: "Voici mon p re, ce magnifique artiste!" They burst into applause and cries of Bravo! Ilse kissed me. She was crying and laughing. I remember the white vulnerability of her neck and the feel of her lips, just above my jaw.