By: Addie Logan
surroundings of her own room. She wondered for a moment if it had
even been real, but knew it was as soon as she looked at the date.
Well, that and the fact that the crime scene tape was still in her
house. That had been quite irritating to deal with the night before.
At least it had kept her apartment from being re-rented.
Every inch of her ached with weariness, and Sylvia wished she could
shake the events of the previous couple weeks off like a dream. She
didn't want to think about Victor, and she definitely didn't want to
have to suffer the pain she felt from waking up without him. She
doubted herself for even leaving. Did she really need to go?
Couldn't she have just stayed, learned to turn a blind eye to what
he was, what he did?
Sylvia brushed tears away from her eyes as she realized that no, she
could never do that. She'd spent too many years having to pretend
when she lived with her mother. She wasn't going there again. She
wouldn't live a lie, especially not one tinted even darker with
violence. She couldn't love a man who would choose bloodlust over
her.
That thought made Sylvia cry in earnest, when she realized that she
really did love Victor. Somehow, in the midst of all the insanity
that her life with him had become, she'd fallen in love with him.
She shook her head, telling herself that it hadn't been Victor that
she'd fallen in love with. She reminded herself of one of the
biggest dangers of being a telepath�failing to realize that what a
person is capable of in their mind is not always who they really
are. What good Victor Creed was capable of was buried right along
side the rabbits. Sylvia laughed a little, a painful, choked sound.
Who would've ever thought that so much darkness could all begin with
a little white rabbit?
She lay there for a little while before convincing herself that she
should get out of bed. After all, she should probably let the police
know that she wasn't in any sort of trouble, since the mess around
her house had let her know that some sort of investigation had been
occurring. And her mother� Sylvia had put one thing off long enough.
As much as that woman had hurt her, she needed to be with her then.
She got out of bed, remembering everything she'd been taught in
graduate school as far as ways to keep a positive psyche was
concerned. She was free of Sabretooth�shouldn't that make her happy?
The fact that it didn't upset her more than anything else ever
could.
*** *** ***
"Mr. Creed, sir, they're really gone now," Larry called into
Victor's room from the other side of the door. "You can come out."
"Dammit, Larry, do you not know the meaning of the phrase 'go
away?'"
"But you have your house back now, sir. No one's here except the
people who belong."
"Larry, take a hint and fuck off."
Larry sighed, walking away from the door. Heidi took his hand.
"You've done all you can, darling. Victor just isn't going to come
out," she said softly.
"But he's been in there for two days!" Larry said. "He doesn't do
this Heidi. He�he just doesn't get depressed. I mean, granted, he
seems like he would, but, well he doesn't."
"He'll come out when he's ready. Come on, why don't we take this as
an opportunity to spend some time alone, hmm?"
Larry glanced back at Victor's door and sighed. "I guess you're
right." He gave Heidi's hand a squeeze. "How about I make us some
dinner?"
Heidi smiled. "There's nothing' I'd like more."
*** *** ***
Victor Creed had always prided himself on his lack of angst. He
wasn't like Logan. Something bad happened in his life, he moved on.
What was the point in dwelling on pain? No, Victor didn't dwell�he
relished. He'd turn his pain outward, and then feed of that of the
ones he inflicted it on. It was a vicious cycle, but one he'd been
happy to be stuck in. He'd never felt that he'd lost something he'd
needed.
Until Vicky had turned her back on him. But even then, he'd told
himself that he could keep going, that he didn't really have to
change�his daughter would come back to him. She'd always understood
him, understood that he was more than the monster he was said to be.
But now, he wasn't so sure. He'd spent as much of his life as he
could really remember holding on to his bloodlust, making it an
irrevocable part of himself. But now what�what could he do now that
he didn't want to kill? First Vicky, and now Sylvia�the only woman
he'd ever been able to truly say that he loved.
The blood was still on him. Two days, and he hadn't washed it off.
Why should he? It was what he was. He was covered in blood, always
covered in blood. He wanted to take it all back, to have never hurt
Adanya Logan, to have never made that last kill. Then maybe he could
have Vicky, could have Sylvia.
Victor sat alone, in the dark, years of murders playing through his
head like a gruesome broken record. So much of it was the same. The
hunger came, and he killed, as simply as if he'd just been taking a
breath. He prided himself on living his life his way, on accepting
the bloodlust as a part of him and never trying to fight it. But in
the end, where had it left him? Alone. He wasn't in control. He
couldn't even keep a promise to his daughter.
For the first time in his life, Victor Creed broke down, calling out
for all he'd lost.
*** *** ***
"Larry, why don't you come to bed?" Heidi asked, propped up on her
elbow and looking across the room at her lover.
"I'm not tired, honey."
Heidi smiled slowly. "We wouldn't�have to sleep."
Larry knew with his face, he probably shouldn't say no to a
beautiful woman stretched out in his bed, but he just wasn't in the
mood. Another day had passed without Victor coming out of his room.
He wouldn't even eat the food he'd put in front of his door. "I
can't."
Heidi frowned. "You don't need this, Larry. Victor, he's poison for
you. You'll never be happy as long as you're here."
"But this is my life! I work for Mr. Creed!"
"Listen to yourself!" Heidi exclaimed, sitting up. "You can't even
call the man by his first name! You helped him raise his child, for
God's sake, and what are you to him�a servant? A punching bag? Hell,
when that Birdy woman was around, didn't he make you move out just
because she thought you were 'creepy?'"
"He needs me!"
"He needs you! What would he do without you? I'll tell you�he'd hire
a maid and get someone else to clean his 'messes.' He doesn't give
you half the respect you deserve. Come home with me, Larry. My
family will provide for us, and we can start a real life together."
"Mr. Creed respects me!"
"Does he? How many years did you work for him before he even asked
your name?"
Larry hung his head. "Ten."
"And before or since, has he ever asked anything about you? Does he
know that you're from Chicago, or that your father was a preacher
and your mother made the best pies in the state? Does he know that
you graduated from Yale with a degree in philosophy?"
Larry drooped more. "No."
"He's bad to you, Larry. He's just a self-centered maniac. You
deserve so much better. You deserve to be treated with dignity. Let
us leave�please, darling. We would be so better off."
"I need�I need to think."
"I understand. But just remember, Larry, Victor does not hold you in
the high regard you think he does. If he did, he would not treat you
so low."
Larry got up from the chair. "I need�I need to go get something to
drink. I'll be back up later."
"I'll be here for you, Larry, no matter what you decide." Heidi
sighed. "I just want you to be happy."
Larry nodded and left the room.
*** *** ***
"Final boarding call for Flight 459 to Montgomery, Alabama."
Sylvia clutched her ticket in her hand. It was then or never. She
could turn around now and just put her mother out of her mind for
good, or she could get on that plane and try to finally put things
right.
She stepped forward. She wasn't going to walk away from this one. If
there was one thing she'd learned during her time with Victor Creed,
is was that she could be strong.
She was going home to Mama, and come hell or high water, she was
going to come back even stronger.
*** *** ***
Larry stood outside Victor's door, trembling. "I know you're in
there, Mr. Creed�even if you aren't answering, and well, I just want
to slip this letter under your door. Okay, well, bye."
Victor stared at the piece of paper that appeared a moment later. He
waited a while before getting up and reading it. There was nothing
on it that he could've possibly cared about anyway. It was probably
just some bill or something. Maybe Heidi had gotten hold of his
charge cards again.
He snatched the letter up glancing at the top. The first line let
Victor know that he'd been beyond wrong in his belief. It wasn't
just any note�it was Larry's letter of resignation. The man who'd
been his confidant for close to three decades was walking out.
Victor crumbled the note and went back to his chair. That was it for
him. With Larry gone, he truly had nothing. He'd driven them all
away.
He'd just wait now, until maybe death could be as kind to him as it
was his victims and take him away.
*** *** ***
Sylvia was surprised at just how warm and inviting her brother's
home was. She had three nephews�triplets�and a niece, with her
sister-and-law on the verge of having another one any day. It
reminded her of a home from an old movie, with everything amazingly
in place, and everything soft, with an aura of contentment. She
wondered how Jimi had managed to have a childhood so like her own,
and yet grow up to have a family worthy of a fifties sitcom.
The one blemish on the household was the room in which her mother
had taken residence. Apparently, she never left, just laying in the
bed, wanting to be waited on in her "hour of darkness." Sylvia had
felt her mother's presence as soon as she'd come into the house, and
she wondered if she really was strong enough to go into that room.
Jimi's wife, Betsy, greeted Sylvia as an old friend, although the
two of them had never met. She assured her that her mother would be
happy to see her, and that she'd been asking for her ever since
she'd taken ill. Sylvia took a deep breath before going into her
mother's room. She was a psychiatrist. She could mend the rift with
her own mother before the woman died, for crying out loud.
"Mama?" she said softly, opening the door.
Her mother was facing the wall, but turned when she heard Sylvia's
voice. "You came."
"Of course I did, Mama," Sylvia replied, trying to keep her voice
from betraying just how shocked she was to see her always-strong
mother looking so frail.
"Good. Because I didn't want to die without telling you just how
damn disappointed in you I am."
Sylvia blanched. "What?"
"What have you done for yourself, but made a mockery of this family?
Do you know how hard it is, having the whole world know I gave birth
to a freak? I raised you, and all you could do was humiliate me by
announcing to all that would hear that you're a mutie. I tried to
love you, despite your defect, but you made it impossible, Sylvia. I
wanted to let you know before I meet the Lord that you're dead to
me. I have no daughter."
Sylvia considered walking away with dignity. The psychiatrist in her
told her to attribute her mother's harsh words to the dying process.
But she didn't. For a moment, she thought of Victor, and she wanted
to do something that he would be proud of. "I'm happy to be dead to
you, you selfish bitch," she snapped. "Do you know how hard it was,
being raised by a whore? You think those men stopped with you? Hell,
I think most of them thought they were getting a two for one deal. I
put up with hell for you, and if me being out as a mutant gave you
back even a little bit of that hell, then I wish I'd yelled it
louder. And if you think you're going to meet the Lord, then if
anything, it'll be just long enough for him to throw you into some
fiery pit, cause if there's an afterlife, you're spending it in
Hell."
Her mother blinked. "How�how dare you say such things to me?"
"You've made me suffer enough. I had hoped that I could leave her
reconciled with you, but I know how it'll never be possible. I hope
at the end you realize what you've lost. I survived, Mother,
survived everything you threw at me, and I'm going to keep doing
just that."
Sylvia turned around and walked out, feeling renewed.
*** *** ***
"Vicky! Phone!"
Victoria grumbled as she got up and headed for the stairs. She
figured with all the gadgets they had around that damn mansion,
someone could've come up with a better intercom system than Kacie
Drake screaming at the top of her lungs. She took the cordless phone
from Kacie, who quickly scampered off. "Yeah?" Vicky said into the
receiver.
"Hey, kiddo. It's Larry."
Vicky sat down. "Larry? Hey. Is everything all right?"
Vicky could hear Larry sigh heavily. "Well, no. It's your father."
"My father? Did he get hurt?" Vicky asked quickly.
"No. Well, not physically. Vicky, he's spiraling downwards. I
couldn't even stick around anymore."
"You what? What are you saying, Larry?"
"I left."
"You left my dad! Larry, you can't do that! Who will take care of
him?"
"I'm not who he needs right now. Vicky, he misses you."
"I'm not coming home. Not after�not after what he did to Addie. He
lied to me, Larry. He told me he quit. And to top it all off, he
kept from me that my mother was Jean Grey, of all people. That
wasn't exactly something pleasant to find out."
"He tried to quit," Larry replied. "Hell, Vicky he even tried
therapy."
"He what?"
"He had a therapist here for a while. Didn't go so well, but I think
he made an effort�"
"I don't care what happens to him anymore, Larry. I've washed my
hands of him."
"You and I both know that isn't true, Victoria. He's your father,
and you love him, no matter what he does. I'm not saying to accept
what he is, but you need to forgive. Don't cause a rift you'll
regret someday. You're his whole world."
"Why did you leave, Larry?"
"That isn't important."
"Yes it is," Vicky argued. "You're telling me to go back, but you
can't even stick around yourself."
"He's not my father, Victoria."
"No, but you're like a brother to him."
Larry snorted. "More like a servant. All he does is yell at me. He
probably doesn't even care that I'm gone."
"You can't honestly believe that. He's gruff, I know, but it's just
his way."
"Just go home, Vicky. If he needs either one of us, well, it's you."
"I can't!"
"Dammit, Vicky, go sort things out with your father. The man loves
you. We can't all be perfect. Just love him for who he is."
Vicky was quiet for a moment. "I'll have to think about it."
"Make the right decision."
"I'll make the decision that's right for me."
"If that were the case, you'd be hanging up to book a flight to
Seattle right now."
"I have to sort through some things."
"Don't wait too long, Vicky. He was in a bad way when I left."
"I won't. Larry?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too, kiddo. Take care."
"I will. Bye."
"Bye."
Vicky clicked off the phone and went up to her room.
*** *** ***
Sylvia laughed as she walked out of her brother's house. Did she
really think that being so close to death would've made her mother
any different? She decided all she'd read about "making peace" with
loved ones was overrated. So what if the woman had given birth to
her, that didn't really make her family.
Sylvia realized then that the people she'd been the closest to in
her life were those who formed the motley crew at the Creed manor.
She missed them. Even with all the darkness around that house, there
was something there that made her feel alive. Maybe Victor was what
she'd seen in his mind�
She dismissed that thought as she got in the cab that would take her
back to the airport. No matter what she felt for Victor, she was
better off without him�better off alone. She'd go back to Seattle
and use the events of the past couple weeks to take a new outlook on
life. Hopefully, she'd be a better person because of it.
Sylvia didn't look back at the house as the cab drove away, didn't
need to glance back at any remainders of her childhood. She had only
her future ahead of her, and one question burning in her mind�
How exactly did one fall out of love with the homicidal maniac that
had stolen her heart?
*** *** ***
Ric LeBeau stopped short when he passed Vicky Creed's room and saw
her throwing things into a duffle bag. He stood in her doorway.
"Where are you going?"
Vicky didn't look up. "My dad's."
"Sabretooth's?"
"No, the other father I have. Yes, Sabretooth's. I have a flight to
Seattle in two hours. I need to get out here now." She zipped up the
bag.
"But I thought you weren't talking to him. After what he did to
Addie�"
Vicky let out a slow breath. "I know, Ric. But he's my father." She
looked up at him, and he could tell she'd been crying. "Larry just
called me and said that Dad's in really bad shape. No matter what
he's done, I can't turn my back on him now."
Ric frowned. "Who's Larry?"
"My dad's clean-up man, but well, he was sort of like a mother to
me."
Ric raised an eyebrow, but decided not to touch that one. "Are you
going to be okay?"
"Yes." Vicky slung the bag on her shoulder. "I just need to get to
him."
Ric moved closer to her, putting his hand gently to her cheek. "It
just worries me, thinking about you being alone with him."
"Ric, he's my father. He'd never hurt me." She smiled. "I appreciate
your concern, but I'm all right�really. You're not afraid your dad's
going to pick your pocket every time you go anywhere with him, are
you?"
Ric smirked. "No."
"It's the same thing, really. I'll be back soon. Tell the rest of
the team that, okay?"
"I will. Take care of yourself, Victoria." Ric leaned down and
kissed her on the top of her head.
"I will, Richard." She glanced back at the clock. "I'll be back
before you even notice I'm gone."
"Somehow I doubt that."
Vicky smiled. "See ya, Stripes."
Ric chuckled. "See ya."
*** *** ***
Vicky shivered a little when she walked into her house. It wasn't
the way she remembered it, not warmth welcoming her home. It was if
it had died. She didn't like it one bit. She put her bag on the
ground. "Daddy?"
Nothing. Vicky moved further into the house. Nothing even smelled
right. "Dad?" She tried to catch a recent scent of her father, but
everything was stale. She went up the stairs, towards his bedroom.
She knocked on the door. "Dad, you in there?"
He didn't answer, but Vicky knew that's where he was. She knocked
again, harder. "Dad, please, open the door."
She waited a moment, then cursed under her breath. Well, at least
she knew the manual override code to break the lock he had on his
door. Her father was, in her eyes, the king of paranoia. Her nursery
had been better guarded than half the Pentagon. She breathed a sigh
of relief when the door opened, but her breath stopped when she saw
her father, slumped over in a chair, reeking of death. She let out a
small, choked sob when she saw he was still breathing.
Vicky ran over to he father, kneeling in front of his chair. "Daddy?
Daddy, please wake up and talk to me." When he didn't respond, she
stood up, shaking his shoulders. "Dad, dammit, wake up!"
Victor's eyes opened slowly. "Vi�Vicky?"
"Yeah, Dad, it's me."
"Why�why are you here?"
Vicky smiled the best she could. "I heard you needed someone to take
care of you."
"You said you hated me."
Vicky didn't stop the tear that fell down her cheek. It killed her
how weak he looked "I love you, Daddy. I love you so much."
Victor looked down slowly. "I don't deserve that. I don't deserve
you. I'm not�I'm not a good father."
"Yes you are. You're the best. I wouldn't ask for anyone else."
"Even with all�with all I've done?"
"You don't love people because of the person you want them to be.
You love them for who they are."
"I let you down."
"I can get over it. If you'll just get up. Please, Daddy, I can't
stand to see you like this."
"They all left me, Vicky. You�Larry�Sylvia�"
"Sylvia?"
"I loved her."
Vicky decided she'd pry into that subject more later. "Oh. Well, I'm
back now, and I bet you could get the others back, too, if you
really tried."
"I killed again," Victor said, looking away again. "You and Sylvie,
you both wanted me to stop�and I didn't. But I can now, I promise. I
can stop. I didn't want to hurt them�. I didn't want to hurt the
rabbit�"
Vicky figured she didn't really want to know why her father was
talking about rabbits. "You can make it better. You're just going to
have to get up, all right? When's the last time you ate something?"
"When did Larry leave?"
Vicky smirked. "You get in the shower, and I'll find something for
you to eat."
"You're not going to cook are you?"
Vicky decided to take that as a good sign. If he could remember that
she was just about the world worst cook, second only to Victor
himself, he wasn't too far gone. "No, I promise I won't put you
through that."
He smiled weakly. "Might be a good revenge."
Vicky chuckled. "No one deserves that, Dad. But you need to get
cleaned up, all right? Can you do that?"
"I think so�I haven't tried standing in a while."
Vicky held out her hand, offering her father something to steady
himself on. Victor took it, slowly pulling himself to his feet. He
stumbled a little at first, but managed to stand on his own. "You
need me to run the bath, Dad?"
With anyone else, his dignity would make him say no. "Yeah, would
you, sweetie?"
Vicky nodded and helped Victor into the bathroom, going over to the
tub to run the water. She got the temperature to just the way she
knew he liked it. "You going to be all right now?"
Victor nodded. "I think so."
"I'm going down to see if there's anything edible in the
kitchen�that doesn't involve me cooking. Yell if you need me."
"I will."
Victor spent a while in the tub, slowly letting it pull him back
into the world of the living. Vicky was back�she didn't hate him. He
could breath again. He watched the water turn red as the blood
washed off his body, and with it, a part of himself. He'd been given
a second chance, and he knew then that he could fight the hunger. He
was strong, stronger than an urge.
Victor stood, watching the red water rush down the drain. It was
time to start being the father he should've been nineteen years ago.
*** *** ***
Victor chuckled as he approached the kitchen and smelled pizza.
That's another thing Vicky has inherited from him�just about the
fastest dialing finger around when it came time to produce food.
"Pepperoni?"
Vicky spun around and smiled at her father. "Of course. I ordered
six�thought you might be hungry."
He ruffled her hair. "That's my kid."
"Need a drink, Dad?"
"There's some vodka in the bottom cabinet, sweetie," Victor said,
sitting down and starting to eat. He didn't even realize how hungry
he was until it was there.
Vicky poured him a tall glass of straight vodka and sat down,
grabbing a piece of pizza for herself. "Glad to see you eating now,"
she said. "It scared me to see you like that."
Victor looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry. I�I wanted
to die."
"Don't."
"I'm not going to now."
"You better not. I couldn't live without you, Daddy."
"I know, kid, I know."
*** *** ***
Vicky waited until the following afternoon to broach the question
that had been on her mind since the night before. "Who's Sylvia?"
Victor winced. "My therapist. She isn't around anymore."
Vicky raised her eyebrows. Larry had mentioned something about a
psychiatrist, but she certainly hadn't thought that her father
would've had a relationship with one. It didn't seem his style.
Well, she figured she couldn't really judge his taste in women,
since the only one he'd ever brought home was that Japanese
assassin. Vicky shivered at the thought. Granted his heart had been
in the right place when he'd thought she'd needed a mother, but
really� She brought herself back to the conversation at hand. "You
said last night that you loved her."
"I blew that. Let's talk about something else."
"Do you still love her?"
Victor shifted uncomfortably. "Why are you askin' all these
questions?"
"Because I want you to be happy."
"I am. You're here."
Vicky frowned, but decided to try again later. Her father was the
most stubborn person she'd ever known. "What about Larry?"
"He quit. What about him?"
"Aren't you going to ask him back?"
"He'll come back if he wants to."
"I talked to him, Dad. He doesn't feel like you need him."
"That's ridiculous! As much as he does for me, I�" Victor caught
himself and stopped. "Well, if that's the way he feels."
Vicky got up, got the phone, and handed it to Victor. "Call him."
"No."
"Do it, or I'll cook."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
"What the hell do ya want me to say?"
"How about that you're sorry you didn't show him enough respect, and
that you really do appreciate all he's done for you, and you want
him to come back."
"No."
"Not the right answer."
"Hell no?"
"Dad, I'm serious. Larry's a part of our family, and you are not
going to let your damn pride ruin that. Do you want me to come from
a broken home?"
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"Oh just call the man! Do I need to dial his cell phone number for
you, or do you know it?"
Victor grumbled, snatching the phone from her. "I know it."
"Is your finger broken?"
"No."
"Then get to dialing."
Victor gave her a dirty look. "If it didn't mean a man would have to
touch you, I'd wish children of your own on you someday."
"Gee, thanks. Call."
"I'm not groveling."
"Yes, you are."
"But�"
"Now."
"But�"
"NOW!"
Victor jumped a little. Since when did she get so forceful? "Damn,
all right, I'm callin'."
Victor was obviously uncomfortable as the phone rang. And he didn't
get any better when Heidi answered the phone. "Larry around?" he
asked.
"Larry is busy at the moment. Who is this?"
"Victor, I�wait a second�you speak English?"
There was a long pause from the other end of the line. "Larry call
back later. I go now."
"I already caught you, Heidi."
Heidi sighed. "Damn you, Creed. What do you want with Larry anyway?
He quit picking up your garbage."
"And I don't want him to. Look, I feel bad, all right? Can I talk to
him?"
"He's not here."
"I know you're lying."
"Look, I love Larry, and I'm sick of seeing you walk all over him. I
know he may seem like a tough guy, but he isn't. He's just a sweet,
sensitive man, and he doesn't deserve being treated like trash by
the likes of you."
Victor decided not to point out that sweet, sensitive men usually
didn't get jobs cleaning up the bodies for homicidal maniacs. "Can I
just talk to him? If you don't put him on now, I'm just gonna call
back continuously. And if that doesn't work, I'll hunt ya down."
Heidi grumbled. "Hold on a minute." There was a long pause before
Larry came on the line.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Victor."
"Oh. Look, I meant it when I retired. I'm too old to go around
cleaning up dead bodies, Mr. Creed."
"I'm not callin' to ask ya to do that again, Larry. I promise I'll
never ask ya to do that again. I just�I just want ya back around
'cause, well, dammit I'm hungry."
Vicky hung her head. Some things about her father really weren't
ever going to change.
"I'm not a chef, Mr. Creed."
"I know, I know. But, well, I need ya around, Larry. I, um, always
figured we were sorta a team."
"You�you did?"
"Well, yeah. We raised Vicky, didn't we?"
"Yeah, we did."
"I never let you know how much that meant to me, Larry. I couldn't
have done that without you."
"Sure you could have."
"No, I couldn't have. Hey, without you, who would've told me that
wrapping a crib in barbed wire was a bad idea?"
Larry chuckled. "Okay, so maybe I helped some."
"You helped a lot, Larry. With everything."
"It was my job, Mr. Creed."
"No, it wasn't. It was more than your job�more than I should've
asked of ya. But you did it. And Larry?"
"Yeah?"
"My name's Victor."
"Heh. Right. Victor."
"Look, I really do want you to come back. But in a different
capacity."
"Like what?"
"Don't know. You can run the house or something."
Larry laughed. "So basically you're going to start paying me for
what I've been doing for the past twenty years or so anyway?"
"Um, yeah. I'll give you a raise."
"I'd have to talk to Heidi."
"I figured."
"I'll get back to you, all right, Mr�uh, Victor?"
"Just don't take too long, all right?"
"I won't."
"See ya, Larry."
"Bye."
Vicky took the phone back. "See, was that so hard?"
"Yes."
"Now if you can do the same with Sylvia�"
Victor's nostrils flared. "Hell no. I'm not calling her. Not ever."
"Dad."
"No! Dammit, Vicky, don't even try to cajole me into that one. You
don't understand a damn thing that happened between Sylvia an' me."
"Did she make you happy, Dad?"
"Vicky, don't�I want to talk about something else."
Vicky changed the subject then. She'd have to figure out what the
deal with this Sylvia woman was from someone else. Hopefully Larry
would be home soon�
