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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.
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