A Special Man by Billie Green Read Free Book Online Page B

These people won't wither away and die. Their personalities are too strong. But that means it's more difficult to take care of them."
    "Easy for you to say," she grumbled, then stood. "I'm for a swim. How about you?"
    Amanda shook her head. "I've got a couple of things to take care of. But I'll see you later."
    Amanda's eyes were thoughtful as the door closed behind her friend. She wished there was something she could do to help Ginny and Paul. From bits and pieces each had told her and from what she had seen on her own, she knew Leah was the problem. Whatever had happened, Paul was obviously as deeply in love with Ginny as she was with him.
    Shutting a large manila folder, she leaned back in her chair then glanced at her watch. It was almost time for her to close up shop. It was hard to believe she had been at Greenleigh a whole month.
    She smiled as she thought of the ride she had taken earlier today with Danny. When they had stopped to walk through the woods, he had found a baby rabbit caught in a tangle of blackberry brambles. She could still see his big square hands, the fingers tender as he pulled the animal free and set it on its way.
    Rubbing her chin reflectively, she considered the curious relationship that had developed between them. In her mind, he was no longer mentally handicapped. He was not a patient. He was simply Danny. And they were friends.
    She frowned, remembering the change that came over him at times. It didn't happen often, sometimes coming and going with breathtaking swiftness, sometimes lingering long enough to pull her into a bewildering green spell.
    The difference in his features at those times was striking, puzzling her. His eyes looked deeper set, not so wide open, the lines around them and his mouth becoming harsher. The pupils of the eyes seemed to be darker. And the eyes themselves were the strangest of all. They didn't sparkle gray; they blazed with a green inferno.
    She had thought of it often, remembering the look, analyzing it. Gradually, a curious idea had come to her. It was like before and after Adam had tasted the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.
    She shook her head. The idea was as incomprehensible as the dreams that plagued her each night. God, those dreams, she thought restlessly. They were dreams that she could never remember afterward, visions that left her disturbed because she always awoke from them yearning for something she didn't understand.
    Smiling wryly, she wondered if she just might land in B-North after all. Hearing a slight noise, she glanced up, her eyes widening when she saw Ted walk into her office.
    "I didn't know you were back," she said with genuine pleasure in her voice.
    He smiled, recognizing the welcome. "Just an hour ago. I can't stay. I've come to extend a dinner invitation that's long overdue... a small, belated welcome celebration in my apartment."
    She smiled. "Thank you. I'd like that."
    "Good. Tonight at eight," he said, giving her the benefit of his even teeth and charming smile before he closed the door after him.
    Leaning back in the leather chair, she tapped a pencil against her chin, her eyes thoughtful. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. Ted would know about Danny's condition. Maybe he could tell her about the strange things that happened when they were together.
    Later that evening, after dressing with more than usual care, she arrived at Ted's apartment a few minutes before eight. Choosing her timing carefully, she waited until they had finished dinner and sat in the living room, drinking an after-dinner liqueur.
    Glancing at him over the rim of her crystal glass, she said, "Ted, can you tell me what exactly is wrong with Danny—Daniel Phillips?"
    He settled back against the couch, looking lean and elegant in his dinner jacket. "You certainly don't ask easy questions," he said, chuckling. "That's like asking how the universe was formed." He fell silent for a moment. "Everyone makes the analogy between the brain and the