Free Regret Not a Moment by Nicole McGehee Page B

Hickock had reassured them that her injuries were healing even more rapidly than he had hoped, but he also noticed her quiet distraction. He attributed it to her being bedridden for so many days and, grateful for the physical progress she was making, thought no more about the matter.
    “We haven’t told her that you’re coming,” Laurel said in a conspiratorial whisper, leading Grace up the sweeping staircase to the second story. “We wanted it to be a surprise.” Her voice had a happy lilt. She was thrilled to have her eldest daughter home and was certain that Devon would benefit from the visit.
    “Good. Will I be shocked when I see her?” Grace asked lightly, not really meaning the question. Almost nothing shocked Grace.
    “Well… yesterday we were able to wash her hair, and that’s a big improvement, but she’s still black-and-blue,” said Laurel.
    “You don’t recover overnight from a fall like hers,” Chase said gruffly. Grace looked sharply at him. For all her appearance of frivolity, she missed very little. Her father did not look well, she thought; he had lost the comfortable girth that had been with him for as long as she could remember. She knew that he was very close to Devon and realized that he must be terribly worried. She’d try to pull him out of it later, she decided. For now, she wanted to see her sister.
    Grace didn’t bother knocking on the door but simply rushed into her sister’s room, a dervish swathed in a flowing red silk Paris original.
    “Devon, get out of that bed at once! You’ve made your point. You’ve got my attention. Now let’s go dancing,” she said in a tone of pretend sternness.
    Devon could not believe her eyes. “Gracie?”
    “The same,” said Grace, folding her sister in a warm embrace, then plopping down beside her on the bed.
    “Ouch!” cried Devon. “My side.”
    “Oh!” Grace jumped off the bed. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”
    “Oh, Gracie, I’m so happy to see you. I’m fine. I just can’t believe you’re here. It’s wonderful! You look gorgeous.” Devon grabbed her sister’s right hand in her left one and pulled her into the chair beside the bed. She noted, with a connoisseur’s eye, the beautiful cut of her sister’s flaming scarlet dress. She didn’t need to ask if it was a Schiaparelli. No other designer was so bold with color and line. Yet its very simplicity of design prevented the color from appearing vulgar. Grace’s perfectly manicured nails wore the same vivid shade. A chic black cloche with a net veil was seductively tilted to one side on her head, while black kid gloves and matching shoes completed the ensemble.
    “Well,
you
look perfectly awful,” declared Grace, “but not as bad as I thought you’d look, I must confess.”
    “I feel better now. But, tell me, when did you get here? How long are you staying?”
    “I don’t know how long I’m staying yet. That partly depends on you.”
    “Well, if it depends on me, then stay at least until Christmas. Can’t Philip and the kids come here for the holidays?”
    “Possibly. We’ll see about that later. Tell me how this horrid thing happened to you. I hear that idiot Helena caused it.”
    “Oh, Gracie, she’s not so bad. She didn’t do it intentionally. Anyway, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later.” At the mention of Helena’s name, a small frown creased Devon’s brow. She was still depressed by her conversation with Helena. Reflecting on her life as she lay immobile in bed had caused her to despair for the future. She had realized that, with her sister far away, she would be quite alone in the world if anything happened to her parents. She had friends, of course, but they were mostly married. Where would she fit in? she wondered. If she moved, she was certain she would be even more alone. The prospect was frightening. And the feeling of fright was alien to her. The very newness of her emotions filled her with malaise.
    Grace, observing the