// Chapter 1 Neil Powers rapped on the opened door of his daughter s room and stuck his head in. \"Quinta? You coming to the Ball?\" Quinta was lying on the quilted coverlet of her white spindled bed, reading. A huge bowl of fruit lay next to her. She plucked a grape from a half-eaten bunch and without looking up said, \"Nah. I think I ll pass. I m really enjoying this book.\" \"What re you reading?\" \"Pride and Prejudice.\" \"For pity s sake, girl. Why read about balls when you can go to one?\" She looked up and laughed at that and tapped the pages ofh~ book. Because its lots easier to pretend I m dancing at this one,\" she said, and her face, which still had some growing up to~do, sparkled with teenage superiority. It was a pretty face, tanned and with a refreshingly un- pert nose, and framed by straight gold hair. It didn t look like her mother s, and it didn t look like her father s. Quinta was the only one of five children who truly had believed, that her parents found her under a cabbage leaf; change-of-life babies are like that. \"Sure you won t come? When your sister s back up and around I can always drag her, but for now . . .\" He was packing the loose tobacco in his pipe with his index finger, a careful study in abandonment. Quinta flipped the book over on its front and sighed. Her father was getting better and better at laying on the guilt. For the last four years, ever since her mother died, he d been wandering through life aimlessly, leaning on one daughter, then another, to share his activities. But daughters have a way of growing up, and now everyone had left the nest except Quinta. As she watched him, calmly aware that she was being manipulated, it suddenly became obvious to her: He would not grow up while she was there to minister to him. 3
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