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"
I
do
believe
it
,
"
he
said
,
although
he
had
to
admit
to
himself
that
it
gave
him
a
certain
amount
of
pleasure
to
see
the
shoe
switched
to
the
other
foot
with
such
dazzling
,
unexpected
speed
:
But
his
anger
at
Wendy
had
been
only
a
passing
gut
twitch
.
In
his
heart
he
knew
Wendy
would
pour
a
can
of
gasoline
over
herself
and
strike
a
match
before
harming
Danny
.
The
large
tea
kettle
was
on
the
back
burner
,
poking
along
on
low
heat
.
Jack
dropped
a
teabag
into
his
own
large
ceramic
cup
and
poured
hot
water
halfway
.
"
Got
cooking
sherry
,
don
’
t
you
?
"
he
asked
Wendy
.
"
What
?
…
oh
,
sure
.
Two
or
three
bottles
of
it
.
"
"
Which
cupboard
?
"
She
pointed
,
and
Jack
took
one
of
the
bottles
down
.
He
poured
a
hefty
dollop
into
the
teacup
,
put
the
sherry
back
,
and
filled
the
last
quarter
of
the
cup
with
milk
.
Then
he
added
three
tablespoons
of
sugar
and
stirred
.
He
brought
it
to
Danny
,
whose
sobs
had
tapered
off
to
snifflings
and
hitchings
.
But
he
was
trembling
all
over
,
and
his
eyes
were
wide
and
starey
.
"
Want
you
to
drink
this
,
doc
,
"
Jack
said
.
"
It
’
s
going
to
taste
frigging
awful
,
but
it
’
ll
make
you
feel
better
.
Can
you
drink
it
for
your
daddy
?
"
Danny
nodded
that
he
could
and
took
the
cup
.
He
drank
a
little
,
grimaced
,
and
looked
questioningly
at
Jack
.
Jack
nodded
and
Danny
drank
again
.
Wendy
felt
the
familiar
twist
of
jealousy
somewhere
in
her
middle
,
knowing
the
boy
would
not
have
drunk
it
for
her
.
On
the
heels
of
that
came
an
uncomfortable
,
even
startling
thought
:
Had
she
wanted
to
think
Jack
was
to
blame
?
Was
she
that
jealous
?
It
was
the
way
her
mother
would
have
thought
,
that
was
the
really
horrible
thing
.
She
could
remember
a
Sunday
when
her
Dad
had
taken
her
to
the
park
and
she
had
toppled
from
the
second
tier
of
the
jungle
gym
,
cutting
both
knees
.
When
her
father
brought
her
home
,
her
mother
had
shrieked
at
him
:
What
did
you
do
?
Why
weren
’
t
you
watching
her
?
What
kind
of
a
father
are
you
?
