Free Sleight of Hand by Kate Wilhelm

Connie, then said, "She thought Eve was in a mental hospital. She doesn't know how she got the idea, but that's what she believed."
    "Jay can do that," Stephanie said in a scathing tone. "He can twist words until you not only believe the earth is flat, but you think you originated the idea yourself."
    "Whatever. I'm going to bring her over on Friday afternoon."
    That hadn't ended it immediately, but that was what happened. Adele had been determined.
    "On Friday," Adele said to Barbara, "Stephanie was like a cat on full alert, poised, ready to bristle and lash out, and Connie was ready to bolt and run. Eve and Reggie were on the patio when we arrived, and I took Connie by the arm and made her walk out with me. There's a lattice cover with a clematis vine that was just starting to bloom, casting deep shade on half of the patio. Eve and Reggie were sitting under it.
    Reggie had been reading to her. She does that, reads parts of her manuscript and Eve sketches while she listens.
    "Seeing Eve and Connie eye each other was like watching two timid fawns, too shy and fearful to say a word, but curious. Then Connie looked at the garden, and said something like how lovely it was. That was the start."
    Their food was gone and they were waiting for coffee. "When we left, about half an hour later, Connie asked Stephanie if she could come back the next week. It was the first initiative she had shown since the accident, just asking permission to return. The next week I went back with her and I knew she was on her way. She and Eve had not said more than half a dozen words on her first visit, but this time they talked about flowers a little. And Connie said she used to have a flower garden. They did
    —she, David and Steve had planted a flower garden and called it their secret garden.
    It was the first time she had been able to refer to the past even obliquely.
    "It was all a matter of climbing out of the pit from there on," Adele said.
    The light on the river was changing with the lowering sun. Ripples that had flashed silver were taking on golden hues and the ambient light was softening subtly.
    "Let's walk by the river while the sun sets," Adele said.
    Barbara waved her credit card and a few minutes later they were heading down the steps to the river path. More birds were flying low over the river, on their way to wherever home was. Not many other strollers were on this side of the river, although on the other side the path was busy with bicycle and foot traffic.
    "She started coming to the center again," Adele said, walking slowly in the golden light. "First she just sat in on the group therapy sessions, but then she began helping out. Every year we have two sessions of self-defense classes for women. She attended. She said she was so out of shape, she had to start getting some muscles back."
    Adele lapsed into silence again for several seconds, then said, "Howie Steinman is the martial arts instructor, and Howie fell in love with Connie." She sighed. "He was born to suffer, and he'd be the first to tell you all about it. It seems he has one unfortunate fixation after another, a visiting professor once, a singer with the opera company who moved on and Connie. Always the star on the Christmas tree, unattainable and irresistible. He was madly in love again."
    Adele spotted a bench ahead and motioned toward it. They sat down and listened to the music of the river for a minute or two. "That last Friday," Adele said, keeping her gaze on the water, gold ripples on black now. "After the class Connie came to the office. She asked what she should do about Howie. He had started sending her little presents, flowers, candy, a book of poetry. She was embarrassed and didn't know how to handle it. I told her to tell him to get lost," Adele said dryly. "Well, she decided to go have coffee with him and be gentle, and tell him to get lost in a nice way. She called Eve from the office to say she'd be around on Saturday, that something had come up." Adele