scanned him, and it all looks normal. He’s got one hell of a bruise, though. He was damn lucky.”
She sagged with relief. “How is Charlotte?”
“Hanging in there. How are you and Eloise doing?”
“Milo and Otis still reign supreme, so I guess we’re hanging in there, too.”
There was a short pause and she could hear Max take a breath.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” he said. “You didn’t have to.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Max,” she said. “It was the least I could do.”
“But you’ve lost your chance to see Dr. Kooperman,” he said.
“I think your niece and nephew are a little more important than my ability to do a pirouette on stage,” she said.
There was a profound silence from Max’s end of the line for a few beats.
“Well, both Charlotte and I appreciate it,” he said. “We’ll have to work out some way to make it up to you.”
There was a low, warm note in his voice and her hand tightened around the receiver as a half dozen illicit, wrong, hot ideas for how he could do that flitted across her mind.
“I’d better get back to Milo and Otis,” she said.
“I’ll call later, give you a progress report.”
She ended the call and returned to her position on the couch next to Eloise. Once again the little girl didn’t acknowledge her presence in any way.
Maddy stared blindly at the television. Her heart was banging against her rib cage as though she’d just danced a solo. Because Max called? Because he’d said nice things to her and made her think about things it was best she never thought about again?
A grinding, clicking noise drew her attention back to the television. The picture was flashing off and on, the image distorted into pixels. She was reaching for the remote control when the machine gave a final mechanical groan and the picture died altogether, the screen cutting to blue.
“Oh, no.”
For the first time in two and a half hours, Eloise stirred. She frowned, plucking at her blanket.
“Okay. Okay,” Maddy said as she scrambled toward the DVD player.
Maybe the disk had a scratch on it. She pressed the power button on and off a few times, but nothing happened. She could smell a faint burned electrical odor. Not a good sign.
Behind her on the couch, Eloise began to protest. “Je veux le chat de chat!”
Maddy’s French was rusty, but she got the drift. Eloise wanted her movie back on, pronto.
“I don’t think that’s going to be possible, chérie,” she said. “Milo and Otis are having a petit sleep.”
Eloise was still staring at the television. Her expression darkened ominously. Maddy scooped up the colored prism Eloise had been so fascinated with earlier and handed it to her. Eloise gave it a single disinterested glance before letting it fall to the floor.
“What about lunch? You must be hungry, no?” Maddy tried next. “Très affamée, oui?”
She rushed to the kitchen and quickly slapped together a peanut butter sandwich. Eloise became more vocal with every minute, calling out in French for the movie to start again.
“Why don’t we eat lunch, first, sweetie?” Maddy suggested, offering Eloise the sandwich cut into quarters.
But Eloise simply wasn’t interested. She ignored the plate, pointing at the television. Her voice rising in pitch, she demanded Milo and Otis.
Maddy sat back on her heels. She had no idea what to do. Eloise had not made eye contact with her once, and Maddy didn’t know if the little girl could understand a word she was saying. Doubtful, given her autism and the fact that Maddy was speaking mostly English with a tiny smattering of French.
Maddy pounced on the bag of supplies Charlotte had brought with her, hauling out pajamas, diapers, some fruit snacks and a well-loved rag doll. She delivered the doll to Eloise with her heart in her mouth, but once again Eloise was not interested.
Just her luck—a kid who knew her own mind.
Eloise’s complaints were increasing in volume. Maddy stiffened with alarm as the little girl began to rock. For a split second she considered calling Max, but she didn’t want to add more pressure to what was already a stressful situation.
“Okay. It’s going to be okay, Eloise,” she said soothingly.
She glanced around the apartment, but nothing leaped out at her. In desperation, she did the one thing she was good at—she started to dance.
“Hey, look, mon petite, look at this,” she said as she did a pirouette, then an arabesque, followed by a deep plié.
She did another pirouette and realized that Eloise had stopped rocking. And for the first time all day, she was focusing on Maddy and following her every move.
A surge of relief washed through Maddy.
“You like this? You like le ballet?” She danced a few more steps and noticed that Eloise was moving her arms and legs in abbreviated imitations of what Maddy was doing.
“You want to dance, too?” she guessed.
She danced a few more steps, and again Eloise wriggled in time with her.
“Yes! You do want to dance. What a wonderful idea,” Maddy said.
Quickly she located Max’s stereo system and shoved the first disk she found into the tray. As Vivaldi’s Four Seasons poured into the room, she danced toward Eloise and held out her hands. Her excitement faltered as Eloise simply sat staring at her. Then, slowly, Eloise lifted her hands toward Maddy’s and allowed Maddy to pull her to her feet.
Maddy stepped from side to side, encouraging Eloise to copy her. Her tongue wedged between her lips, Eloise rocked back and forth on her chubby baby legs. Once the little girl was moving confidently, Maddy introduced a simple twirl. Eloise’s face lit with delight as she whirled in a circle, arms spread wide for balance.
She giggled, her small face flushed with pleasure. Warmth and an odd humbleness filled Maddy as she took in the pure joy on Eloise’s face. There was so much honesty there, no pretense or subterfuge or self-consciousness.
“You can feel the music, too, can’t you?” she said, even though she knew Eloise could not understand.
Totally immersed in the moment, Maddy began to string a series of simple steps together in her mind. Then, Eloise’s hands held fast in her own, Maddy showed her how to dance.
“SHE’LL BE FINE. When I spoke to Maddy they were still watching the DVD,” Max said.
Charlotte
