"Oh, Todd, it was just terrible," Elizabeth cried. "You should have seen her face!"

  Elizabeth told him the whole story. After George had left the dance floor, he returned to Enid. And Enid had blown up, right in front of Elizabeth. "You're in love with Robin Wilson, aren't you?" she demanded.

  "What did George say?" Todd asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head. "You know, Todd, I felt kind of bad for him. I could tell he wanted to keep from hurting Enid, but the truth was written all over his face. And he looked so relieved to have it out in the open at last."

  "What about Enid?" Todd went on, "Was she OK?"

  Elizabeth shook her head sadly. "I don't think so," she told him. "She looked completely devastated. George never answered her question, but he didn't have to. His face gave it all away. And Enid could barely talk, she was so upset. She just told him she wanted to go home. And as they were leaving, I saw her face just completely crumple. She was crying her heart out."

  "Maybe you should go over and see her later tonight," Todd suggested. "She'll probably need a good friend's shoulder to cry on."

  "I don't think so," Elizabeth said. "I think she may want to be alone tonight. But I'll go see her tomorrow."

  Elizabeth couldn't take her mind off Enid for the rest of the evening. As hard as she tried, she couldn't enjoy the dance. All she could think about was the look on Enid's face when she'd spotted George and Robin in each other's arms. What if that ever happened to Todd? Elizabeth wondered unhappily. What would she do without him?

  But she couldn't picture Todd falling in love with someone else. It seemed impossible. But then, Enid must have felt the same way once.

  As always, Todd seemed to be reading her mind. "Come dance with me," he urged her, taking her in his arms. "Liz, I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered in her ear when they were out on the dance floor. "Don't you go getting any silly ideas in your head about some other guy."

  "Oh, Todd," Elizabeth murmured, tightening her arms around him. I'm so lucky, she told herself. So incredibly lucky to have a guy like Todd in love with me.

  "How would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?" Todd asked Elizabeth, stroking her blond hair with his hand. "I was thinking of someplace really special, like The Palomar House."

  "But that place costs a fortune!" Elizabeth gasped. "What's the occasion?"

  "How quickly they forget," Todd said sadly, the twinkle in his eye showing Elizabeth he was only kidding. "Our monthly anniversary, of course," he said grandly.

  "Anniversary!" Elizabeth gasped. "Oh, Todd, I completely forgot about my parents' wedding anniversary! It's next Friday, and I don't have anything planned for them!"

  "Why don't you buy them tickets to the dinner-theater show at Bayside?" Todd suggested. "I did that for my parents last year, and they really loved it."

  "What a wonderful guy you are," Elizabeth said happily. "That's a brilliant idea! They'll be really surprised."

  "That still doesn't settle the question of our anniversary," Todd said huskily, drawing her back into his arms.

  "Your wish is my command." Elizabeth laughed and rested her head against his strong chest. It was so wonderful to be in Todd's arms that despite herself Elizabeth began to relax and enjoy the music.

  But she couldn't quite put the thought of Enid out of her mind. How was Enid taking tonight's events, she wondered—and what effect would her realization about George have on her recovery?

  Only time would tell, Elizabeth thought uneasily. It was going to take a lot of strength for Enid to get back on her feet without George there to cheer her on. She hoped Enid was strong enough.

  Ten

  As it turned out, Elizabeth didn't have a chance to be alone with Enid until Sunday afternoon. Enid was out when Elizabeth dropped by on Saturday. Her mother had taken her to the hospital for physical therapy. And when Elizabeth called her later in the afternoon, Mrs. Rollins said she was napping.

  Enid was awake when Elizabeth went by on Sunday. She was sitting on the Rollins's porch in her wheelchair, working on some makeup assignments for Mr. Collins. She barely looked up when Elizabeth plopped into a chair beside her.

  "I've been so worried about you," Elizabeth began. "Enid, tell me what happened when George took you home Friday night."

  "Friday night?" Enid said blankly. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, you know," Elizabeth began awkwardly. "After the whole thing about Robin Wilson."

  "Robin doesn't mean a thing to George," Enid said coolly. "It was just a big misunderstanding."

  Elizabeth eyebrows shot up. "But I thought—"

  "Well, you were wrong," Enid continued. "After all, I told him to dance with someone. And Robin wasn't dancing with anyone."

  "Oh," Elizabeth said blankly. She didn't know what else to say. Enid wasn't even looking at her, but she could tell her friend was holding something in. Her face was very pale, and she had shadows under her eyes, suggesting she hadn't gotten much sleep. "Then is everything OK between you and George?" she asked.

  Enid shrugged. "Why shouldn't it be?"

  Elizabeth couldn't bear to see her best friend shutting her out this way. She had to make Enid talk this thing out. "Have you seen George since Friday night?" she asked.

  "I don't really want to talk about the whole thing, Liz," Enid remarked. "What George feels is his business. But I will say this," she added. "I know George too well to think that he'd leave me for Robin as long as I'm. . ." She looked down at her wheelchair, and her voice trailed off.

  "But if he really loves Robin," Elizabeth began, "you wouldn't want him to stay with you, would you?"

  Enid looked up at Elizabeth, her green eyes cold. "As I said, Liz, I don't know how George really feels. But he wouldn't stay with me if he didn't want to."

  Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. How could Enid pressure George to stay with her, knowing he was really in love with another girl? She couldn't believe Enid was really behaving this way.

  "Enid, tell me how you're feeling," she pleaded. "You can't really—"

  "I told you," Enid said. "George is all I've got left. You can hardly expect me just to tell him to run off and leave me here in this wheelchair, can you?"

  "But—"

  "Case closed," Enid said without a smile. "Liz, I appreciate your coming over, but I'm really not feeling very well. I think I'm going to go lie down and take a nap."

  Elizabeth bit her lip, not knowing what to say, "How did your physical therapy class go yesterday?" she asked at last. "Did Dr. MacGregor say anything about your progress?"

  "What could he say?" Enid asked sharply. "It's pretty obvious isn't it? There hasn't been any progress at all."

  Elizabeth stared at her best friend, appalled by the bitterness in her voice. This wasn't the Enid Rollins she knew! What had happened to her courage, her will to get better?

  "Let's face it," Enid added, powering her wheelchair to the door. "No matter what anyone says, Liz, I'm never going to walk again. I'm going to be a cripple for the rest of my life. And the sooner you and everyone else gets used to the idea, the easier it'll be!"

  "It was just terrible, Jess," Elizabeth said, slumping over the counter in the Wakefield kitchen. "I couldn't believe it was Enid talking. She sounded so . . . I don't know, so caustic!"

  "One pound of pasta shells," Jessica muttered under her breath, pulling her blond hair back with one hand. "The water's already boiling, a dash of salt . . ."

  "You're not even listening to me!" Elizabeth cried, anguished.

  "Of course I am," Jessica said soothingly. "But this part is tricky, Liz. Don't you want dinner to come out right?"

  Jessica had convinced Mrs. Wakefield to let her cook dinner that night, and she wanted everything to go smoothly. It was her trial run for Friday's performance.

  "What's it going to be, Jess?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously, prodding the mussels cooling off in a colander.

  "A cold seafood and pasta salad," Jessica told her proudly. "It's got lots of things in it—mussels, clams, crabmeat, lobster. Jean-Pierre says it's absolutely divine."

  "Does it have a name?"

  "No," Jessica admitted. "It's too good for a name. Don't worry, Liz. You're going to love it."

  "I'm really worried about Enid," Elizabeth went on. "What do you suppose is keeping her from being able to walk? The doctors promised she'd be back to her old self by now."

  "Well," Jessica said philosophically, "look at it from Enid's point of view. She doesn't have much to gain from walking, does she?"

  "What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

  Jessica shrugged, taking the crabmeat out of the refrigerator and turning the water on in the sink. "From what you just told me, it sounds like Enid thinks that the minute she walks, George will start running—right in the direction of Robin Wilson."

  "But Enid wouldn't deliberately pretend she couldn't walk!" Elizabeth burst out.

  "Maybe not," Jessica admitted. "It was just an idea."

  "I don't know." Elizabeth sighed. "The whole think is so depressing. She wouldn't even talk to me, Jess. She just kept acting as if everything with George is fine. And I know it can't be."

  "Maybe Mom and Dad are right," Jessica suggested. "Maybe you just expect too much of her too quickly."

  "Maybe," Elizabeth said uneasily. "But I don't think so. I think Enid is taking way too long to pull herself together."

  "Speaking of pulling things together," Jessica pointed out, "I don't have much time to pull this thing together."

  "I can take a hint," Elizabeth grumbled. "Does the crab stay that color after you've cooked it?" she added dubiously, or does it get a little more pink?"

  "Who's the chef around here?" Jessica demanded. "Don't worry about a thing, sister, dear. You're just going to love it!"

  Two hours later Jessica leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. Her parents and Elizabeth had scraped their plates clean, and now they were sitting, having coffee. "Dinner wasn't bad, was it?" she asked anxiously. Actually, Jessica had been too busy getting things ready to do more than taste. But everyone else really seemed to enjoy the salad.

  "Delicious," Mr. Wakefield said, giving Jessica a big smile. "I'm really proud of you. Though I did wonder why the chef didn't eat her own cooking."

  "Would you excuse me?" Elizabeth said suddenly, pushing her chair back hastily. Her face had turned a funny color, and her hand was clasped over her mouth.

  "What's wrong, dear?" Mrs. Wakefield asked anxiously.

  Elizabeth didn't answer. She knocked her chair over in her haste to get away from the table, and the next sound the Wakefields heard was the slam of the bathroom door down the hall.

  "Oh, dear," Mrs. Wakefield said, holding her stomach with one hand. "I feel a little peculiar. I wonder . . ."

  "What is it?" Jessica demanded. "What's wrong with everybody?"

  "Will you just excuse me?" Mrs. Wakefield said, pushing her chair back and standing up. "I feel a bit ill, I'm afraid. I'm sure it's just—"

  "Jessica," Mr. Wakefield said sternly, "what did you put in that salad?"

  "Clams," Jessica said nervously. "And crabmeat and a bit of lobster and mussels. I worked so hard to get them open after I cooked them."

  "The mussels didn't open when you steamed them?" Mr. Wakefield demanded. Jessica shook her head. She thought he was beginning to look a little green himself. "Jess, if the shells don't open, you're not supposed to eat them." He gulped. "You can get food poisoning—"

  "Maybe you'd better go to the bathroom," she suggested. "Judging from Liz and Mom, you've got about twelve seconds before—"

  "Oh, God." Mr. Wakefield groaned, holding his stomach with both hands. "Jessica, what were you trying to do—poison your whole family with one blow?" He got up and quickly left the room.

  Oh, no, Jessica thought miserably, sitting at the table and listlessly stirring her coffee. She'd wondered why a number of the mussels had remained closed, but she'd pried them, thinking it was a shame to throw them out when they were so expensive.

  And dinner was supposed to be such a success, she thought sadly. Instead it looked as if she had made everybody completely sick.

  "Jessica Wakefield!" Elizabeth was hollering, weaving her way back into the dining room and reaching for a glass of water. "I don't know what your explanation is, but you'd better come up with one quick!"

  "I was just experimenting," Jessica said, injured. "I didn't mean to—"

  "Where is she?" the twins heard their mother say angrily.

  "Uh-oh," Jessica said. "It sounds like Mom's sort of on the rampage."

  "If I were you," Elizabeth said dryly, "I'd make myself something to eat fast. That'll finish you off, and Mom won't be able to say anything."

  Jessica sighed. Dinner number one hadn't gone exactly as she'd planned. But there was still Friday, she told herself hopefully. Friday night would give her a chance to redeem herself—if tonight didn't kill her mom and dad off!

  "You sound absolutely terrible!" Todd exclaimed when he got Elizabeth on the telephone later that evening. "What happened to you?"

  "Jessica Wakefield," Elizabeth moaned, "is what happened to me. Todd, I think there's a future for that girl in the Department of Defense. She's discovered something much more deadly than nuclear bombs."

  "What is it?" Todd asked.

  "Seafood something-or-other," Elizabeth said dramatically. "It doesn't even have a name. It must be a top secret." She couldn't help giggling as she told Todd what had happened at dinner. "We're all sick," she concluded. "All but Jess. She didn't have time to eat enough, she was so busy poisoning the rest of us!"

  "Sounds like Jessica," Todd said. "But I'm glad everyone's all right. Listen, I wanted to ask you something. Did you get to see Enid today?"

  "I did," Elizabeth admitted. "But it wasn't very successful." She told Todd exactly what she'd told Jessica earlier that afternoon. But Todd, unlike her twin, was concerned.

  "I don't like the sound of that at all," he told her. "What do you think we can do to help her?"

  "I don't know," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "But something Jessica said this afternoon has given me an idea."

  "You don't mean you want to food-poison poor Enid!" Todd laughed.

  "No." Elizabeth giggled. "Far from it. I barely have a plan yet, Todd. It's all too shadowy to talk about. Would you hate me if I kept quiet about this for a few days while I think if over?"

  "Of course not," Todd told her. "Are you still keeping quiet about your parents' anniversary, too?"

  "You bet. I want to surprise them with the tickets."

  "In that case," Todd said wryly, "you'd better keep it quiet around Jessica, too. You know how long a secret lasts with her!"

  "I know," Elizabeth said. "I'm not going to tell her until I give my parents the tickets. But it's not that I don't trust her," she insisted, always defensive about her twin. "I just want Jessica to be surprised, too."

  "From the way it sounds," Todd remarked, "Jessica deserves a surprise after what she did to you guys tonight."

  "She couldn't help it." Elizabeth sighed. "And she's so upset, Todd. She really feels terrible."

  "Not as bad as you guys feel, I bet!"

  Elizabeth laughed, but her mind wasn't on Jessica or her family anymore. She was thinking about Enid.

  Jessica just may have given me a valuable clue today, she thought. And if her hunch proves to be right, I think I have a plan to get Enid out of that wheelchair!

  Eleven

  "Elizabeth!" Mrs. Wakefield called. "Mrs. Rollins is here to see you!"

  Elizabeth had been floating on a raft in the Wakefields' swimming pool, her fingers trailing in the water. Her mother's announcement surprised her so much she tipped the raft over, soaking herself completely.

  "I'll be out in a minute!" she spluttered, swimming to the side of the pool and pulling herself out.

  "I'll make some iced tea for you," Mrs. Wakefield was saying, leading Mrs. Rollins outside. "I'm glad I was home early today and could catch you," she added. Mrs. Wakefield didn't usually get home before dinner on Mondays, but a client had canceled his appointment, leaving her a free hour.

  Elizabeth wrapped a towel around herself, then sat down in a chair next to Mrs. Rollins. "How are you?" she asked politely. "And how's Enid? She wasn't in school today."

  "No," Mrs. Rollins said. "I took her over to see Dr. MacGregor this afternoon, as a matter of fact. Liz, that's why I've come over to talk to you. I've been worried about Enid's behavior lately, and I thought you might be able to help me understand what's causing it."

  "What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked evasively. She wanted nothing more than to pour her own worries out to Enid's mother, but she sensed that it might not be fair to her friend to do so.

  "Well," Mrs. Rollins began, "she doesn't seem like her old self to me. I expected some adjustments would have to be made after the accident, of course. But Enid seems to have just given up. She's been very stubborn about her physical therapy classes. The nurses tell me she's made almost no progress at all. And when she's home, almost all she does is sleep. So today I took her over to see Dr. MacGregor for a complete examination."

  "What did he say?"

  Mrs. Rollins sighed. "He was surprised by her condition. He expected her to be much further along by now. In fact, he told me that Enid should be walking. He said that the X rays confirmed that the operation was one-hundred-percent successful. Enid's spine is in normal condition, and there's no physical reason why she isn't walking."

  Elizabeth thought for a minute. "Why does Dr. MacGregor think she's still in the wheelchair?" she asked. "Did he give you any reasons?"

  "Yes," Mrs. Rollins said. "He thinks she has a psychological block against recovering. He told me this is far more common that people realize. I guess the mind has mysterious powers in situations like this. It isn't that Enid knows she can walk and won't. She really believes she can't move. What we need to discover is why she won't let herself recover. That's why I came to see you, Liz. I know you and Enid are very close, and I thought you might have some idea of what may be troubling her."