this weekend." She gripped the kitchen counter for support.
"As you wish." Stephen turned his back on her and went back to the living room. Julie rushed out the door just as Stephen was saying, "Uncle Bela? This is Stephen. Yes, Stephen Andrassy."
She could not bear to listen to him as he employed his considerable powers of persuasion. Neither could she stand any more of Nonna's scathing disapproval.
And she hated to be accused of anything less than total family loyalty. After all, it was her affection for the others that made her feel that subjecting themselves to the danger of the high wire again would be a terrible mistake—a terrible, terrible mistake.
* * *
It was after eleven o'clock when Julie crept into the house after a long workout with Molly. She closed the front door quietly and tiptoed down the hall. The guest bedroom where Stephen slept showed a thin line of light beneath the door, indicating that he was still awake.
Julie hurried to the bathroom and showered quickly, letting the hot water sluice over her tight muscles. She had put in a total of ten working hours today; along with the emotional tug-of-war with Stephen, they had taken their toll. She felt exhausted.
After slipping into her nightgown and long robe, she padded across the hall to her room, where she shut the door and turned down the bed. She was about to slide between the sheets when she heard Stephen's hesitant tap on her door.
"Juliana?" No one else had ever spoken her name quite that way. No one else, of course, ever called her Juliana.
"Just a minute," she called out, rewrapping her robe.
Stephen stood in the doorway, looking apologetic.
"I wanted to speak with you about the others," he said. His eyes were solemn.
"Come in." Julie held the door wide and stood aside. He looked around uncomfortably. She waved a hand at the armchair in the corner.
Stephen sat and leaned forward. "I talked with Uncle Bela. As you told me, he cannot work the tightrope again because of his injury. But he wished me luck. He said that his daughter has been asking if the Andrassys will ever have an act again."
Julie sank down on the edge of the bed. "Gabrielle?"
"Yes, Gabrielle. I spoke to her on the phone tonight, and she's very interested. She was not with you in New Orleans?"
Julie felt her breath catch in her throat. "No, Gabrielle was only twelve years old at that time. She was enrolled in school here in Venice."
Gabrielle, little Gabrielle, with her long, skinny brown pigtails, had always been a favorite of Julie's. After the fall, Julie had been so glad that Gabrielle had not yet joined the act, at least officially. Gabrielle, of course, had trained to go on the high wire from earliest childhood. But her parents had wanted her to have as normal a life as possible, and so Gabrielle at twelve had not been in New Orleans. She had been home in Venice with Nonna.
"So," Stephen said with satisfaction. "I have recruited a new Andrassy."
"Gabrielle said she would do it? Honestly?"
"She is a student at Florida State University where she participates in the school's Flying High Circus. Her expertise far outweighs that of her fellow performers, and she is ready for a change."
"Gabrielle is studying to be a teacher!" She wondered what promises Stephen had made, what lure he had held out in front of impressionable Gabrielle.
"She will keep up with her courses through correspondence school. Juliana, I have also talked with Paul."
Paul was the cousin who had married a widow with two boys of her own. Surely Paul, of all people, had not lent encouragement to Stephen's ridiculous idea.
"What did he say?"
"He doesn't want to perform in the act again. He is settled on his farm in Georgia and beginning a new career as a land developer. Fortunately, he will support the rest of us."
"The rest of us? The rest of you, you mean!" Julie jumped up from her spot on the edge of the bed and strode to the dresser in the corner, fumbling in the Kleenex box for a
"As you wish." Stephen turned his back on her and went back to the living room. Julie rushed out the door just as Stephen was saying, "Uncle Bela? This is Stephen. Yes, Stephen Andrassy."
She could not bear to listen to him as he employed his considerable powers of persuasion. Neither could she stand any more of Nonna's scathing disapproval.
And she hated to be accused of anything less than total family loyalty. After all, it was her affection for the others that made her feel that subjecting themselves to the danger of the high wire again would be a terrible mistake—a terrible, terrible mistake.
* * *
It was after eleven o'clock when Julie crept into the house after a long workout with Molly. She closed the front door quietly and tiptoed down the hall. The guest bedroom where Stephen slept showed a thin line of light beneath the door, indicating that he was still awake.
Julie hurried to the bathroom and showered quickly, letting the hot water sluice over her tight muscles. She had put in a total of ten working hours today; along with the emotional tug-of-war with Stephen, they had taken their toll. She felt exhausted.
After slipping into her nightgown and long robe, she padded across the hall to her room, where she shut the door and turned down the bed. She was about to slide between the sheets when she heard Stephen's hesitant tap on her door.
"Juliana?" No one else had ever spoken her name quite that way. No one else, of course, ever called her Juliana.
"Just a minute," she called out, rewrapping her robe.
Stephen stood in the doorway, looking apologetic.
"I wanted to speak with you about the others," he said. His eyes were solemn.
"Come in." Julie held the door wide and stood aside. He looked around uncomfortably. She waved a hand at the armchair in the corner.
Stephen sat and leaned forward. "I talked with Uncle Bela. As you told me, he cannot work the tightrope again because of his injury. But he wished me luck. He said that his daughter has been asking if the Andrassys will ever have an act again."
Julie sank down on the edge of the bed. "Gabrielle?"
"Yes, Gabrielle. I spoke to her on the phone tonight, and she's very interested. She was not with you in New Orleans?"
Julie felt her breath catch in her throat. "No, Gabrielle was only twelve years old at that time. She was enrolled in school here in Venice."
Gabrielle, little Gabrielle, with her long, skinny brown pigtails, had always been a favorite of Julie's. After the fall, Julie had been so glad that Gabrielle had not yet joined the act, at least officially. Gabrielle, of course, had trained to go on the high wire from earliest childhood. But her parents had wanted her to have as normal a life as possible, and so Gabrielle at twelve had not been in New Orleans. She had been home in Venice with Nonna.
"So," Stephen said with satisfaction. "I have recruited a new Andrassy."
"Gabrielle said she would do it? Honestly?"
"She is a student at Florida State University where she participates in the school's Flying High Circus. Her expertise far outweighs that of her fellow performers, and she is ready for a change."
"Gabrielle is studying to be a teacher!" She wondered what promises Stephen had made, what lure he had held out in front of impressionable Gabrielle.
"She will keep up with her courses through correspondence school. Juliana, I have also talked with Paul."
Paul was the cousin who had married a widow with two boys of her own. Surely Paul, of all people, had not lent encouragement to Stephen's ridiculous idea.
"What did he say?"
"He doesn't want to perform in the act again. He is settled on his farm in Georgia and beginning a new career as a land developer. Fortunately, he will support the rest of us."
"The rest of us? The rest of you, you mean!" Julie jumped up from her spot on the edge of the bed and strode to the dresser in the corner, fumbling in the Kleenex box for a
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