Foundations 5/6

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Foundations
By T. L. Odell

Part 5/6
See Part 0 for Disclaimers

***Three months later.***

Duncan looked at the email message for the third time.  "Can
you do me a favor?  I need some help Saturday the 28th, Pacifica
Hotel, 6 pm to midnight.  Call me.  Kelly Carpenter."

What kind of help could she want from him?  She had been
talking to her doctor regularly and was beginning to make some
progress during the rest of his time at the camp.  After he had
finished his work at the Wilderness Camp, they had parted
company as friends.  He knew she had left the site several
weeks after he did, when the snows began.

They had exchanged a few emails at first, but nothing for some
time.  He hadn't pressed things; there was still that matter of an
unexplained swordfight, which Kelly had never mentioned, and
Duncan didn't want to pursue.  Well, he'd never find out what
she wanted if he didn't call; he checked his calendar and it was
clear on the night in question, two weeks away.

***
February 28th

Duncan arrived in the Pacifica's lobby at five-thirty and called
her room from a house phone.

"Thanks for agreeing to come, Mac.  I'm getting better, but I
don't think I'm ready to solo at one of these fund raisers yet.
Uncle Phil's out of town, and I really appreciate that you're here
for me.  Why don't you come up?  You can help me carry my
stuff downstairs.  I'm in sixteen thirty-eight."

"I'll be right up."

Riding up in the elevator, he again wondered how Kelly would
manage being in the spotlight.  When he had met her, she could
still barely keep from flinching when he brushed against her,
and he had seen the effort it took for her to accept the platonic
hug and kiss he'd offered when he left the camp.  The elevator
doors opened on the sixteenth floor; he followed the signs to her
room, adjusted the jacket of his tuxedo, and knocked gently on
the door.

The door opened and Duncan found himself unable to speak for
a moment.  The woman standing before him wore a long black
gown with just enough décolletage to reveal a discrete hint of
cleavage below a strand of pearls, and a not quite so discrete
amount of shapely leg peeking out of a bold side slit.

Kelly grinned at him.  "Come in.  I'll take that goofy look on
your face as a compliment.  I used to run with the big kids,
remember.  Just because I choose not to wear the uniform and
war paint doesn't mean I'm not good at it."  She spun around,
then looked at Duncan for approval.

"You're absolutely right.  You look terrific.  Better than
terrific."

"It's part of the job.  The Foundation supplies the dress, the
session with the hairdresser--although Richard did say that
repairing my kitchen scissors haircut was the biggest challenge
he'd ever faced."

"It looks great.  He did a wonderful job."  Years with Tessa,
Anne and Amanda had made him no stranger to the art of
female beautification.  The once straggly hair "don't" had been
transformed into a stylish short curled "do," swept away from
her face, revealing pearl earrings and high cheekbones touched
with blush.  Her formerly dull brown hair shone with red-gold
highlights.  A light touch of shadow and mascara accentuated
her blue-gray eyes.

"You clean up pretty good yourself, Mac," she said with a broad
grin.

Duncan felt himself begin to blush.  "Thanks."

"Well, if you're ready, you can help me carry this stuff down to
the ballroom and get it set up before they let the guests in," she
said, forcing him back to practical matters.  "I'll get my stuff."

"What?  Oh, sure.  I've got it," said Duncan as he picked up the
computer case.

Kelly reappeared wearing a black velvet wrap and carrying a
small beaded bag.  They walked side by side to the elevator,
Kelly obviously getting used to walking in high heels again.
"Like riding a bicycle, they say.  Hogwash!  Promise me you
won't let me break an ankle."

"Your wish is my command."

The elevator arrived and they got in.  As the door closed,
Kelly's expression turned serious.  "Thanks.  And let me tell you
again how much I appreciate what you are doing.  I've been
spending lots of time talking with Sidney, but talking one on
one to a shrink isn't anything at all like facing the crowds.  I've
been practicing "being somebody else" for the night, but I'm not
sure I could pull it off if I didn't know I had someone to come to
my rescue."

"You'll do fine.  And I'll be by your side until you send me
away."  The elevator doors opened and they crossed the pre-
function area where the tuxedoed wait staff worked to set up the
bars.  A security guard let them into the ballroom.  Kelly took
the case from Duncan and set her computer up on the table
provided.  She switched it on and as they waited for it to boot,
Duncan looked around the room.

Typical of so many hotel functions, rounds of eight filled the
room, each covered with pale green cloths and yellow napkins.
A floral arrangement surrounded by votive candles atop a round
mirror sat in the center of each.  He noted at least twenty-five
numbered tables.  At the front of the room, below a large video
screen, sat a head table set for ten.  More than two hundred
people.  Quite a test for Kelly's newly recovering social skills.

"Are you at the head table, Kelly?"

"Afraid so.  And so are you, by the way.  I guess I didn't
mention that, did I?"

"No, you didn't."

"That won't be a problem, will it?  I seem to recall you have
acceptable table manners."

"Thanks."  Three months of therapy had made a big difference
in Kelly's sense of humor.

"I think there are place cards up there.  You can check for our
seats while I make sure this thing is set to go."

Duncan found his name placed at the third seat from the end;
with Kelly's name next to his, one seat closer to the center of the
table.  He perused the rest of the names, wondering if perhaps
Jared would have come in from Indianapolis for the event, but
his name wasn't there, nor did Duncan recognize any of the
others.  It looked like it would be a long, dull evening.

A bright light in his eyes startled him; he saw that Kelly had
begun to run through the first few slides of her presentation.

"Everything seems to be working.  We can go out to the bar and
start drinking if that will make you feel better."

"Okay.  Let's do it."

They walked back into the pre-function hallway and Duncan
asked Kelly what she'd like to drink.

"I think I'll stick to club soda for now."

Duncan got her the requested drink and ordered a Scotch for
himself.  He saw a good number of prominent political and
business figures in the crowd.  It appeared that the Foundation
had a strong support base.  Kelly was handling herself well,
chatting with VIPs, explaining the project to those who asked.
She did seem to be trying to keep her personal space clear, and
he did his best to pull her away when people crowded too
closely.

The cocktail hour ended at last, the Foundation host announced
dinner, and everyone streamed into the ballroom.  He noticed
that Kelly had switched from club soda to wine, but also that
she was sipping it slowly.  She moved the food around her plate
more than she ate it.  *No great loss,* thought Duncan.  *Typical
banquet food.*

When the server set a bowl of ice cream in front of Kelly for
dessert, she waved it away, her eyes glistening.  "No," she said
abruptly.  Then she managed a polite smile and said, "I mean,
'No, thanks.  I'm stuffed.'"

Duncan reached over and patted her hand gently.  "You're fine."

Dinner finished, the wait staff poured coffee, and after a couple
of speeches to which Duncan paid little attention, the host
introduced Kelly, and placed the microphone in front of her.
She stood briefly, nodded to the room, then sat down again.
Duncan looked at her questioningly, but she seemed calm.  The
lights dimmed and the screen behind her lit up with the pictures
of Wilderness Camp.  Of course; she had a remote for the
computer and didn't have to leave her seat to speak.

She showed the "before" and "after" shots of the camp,
including a few of Duncan hard at work.  Slides identified the
flora and fauna of the area, and progressed to proposed lands for
future projects.  She spoke confidently and comfortably; she
had clearly done this many times and was slipping into a well
rehearsed role.

When the lights came back up, and the applause diminished, the
host announced that there would be dancing in the adjoining
room, as well as ample opportunities to ask questions about the
projects and, of course, tables set up with volunteers who would
be happy to accept donations.  Hotel staffers were already
sliding back the airwall, and the sounds of the band playing old
ballroom standards began to fill the room.

"We have to make an appearance in there, too, Mac," Kelly
whispered before starting down to pack up her computer.  "This
is the hard part.  I'm expected to be charming."

"You are charming."

Kelly handed the computer case to a security guard, giving
some sort of instructions for returning it.

In the ballroom, the band played a mix of ballroom, salsa, and
even some old fashioned rock and roll, catering to the age mix
of the audience.  They barely had a chance to enter the room
before numerous people approached Kelly, asking questions,
commenting on her talk, and asking her to dance.  She fielded
the questions, directed people to the area of the room where
they could make donations and look more closely at
photographs of the projects, but she grew even paler, her voice
losing much of its confidence.

"I'm sorry," said Duncan, "but the lady has promised this dance
to me," and he guided her to the dance floor.  The band was
playing a slow number, and he held out his arms.

"Thanks, white knight," she said as she slipped into the dance
position.  "I think my alter ego is deserting me."

"How long before you can make a gracious departure?"

"I'd say I have to be visible for at least another half hour or so.
And I'm afraid I won't be able to hide behind you all the time.
But if you'll rescue me the way you just did, I think I can get
through this.  Believe me, knowing you're here is a tremendous
help."

End of Part 5

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