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expensive suits and expensive perfume, and they all looked like success. The only one Dennie recognized was the one with the razor cut. Janice Meredith.
"Are you really all right, Janice?" the dynamo was saying. "Don't be a martyr with us."
"Victoria, I am not now nor have I ever been a martyr," Janice Meredith said. "I've been better, but I'm doing fine. My marriage died, not my child."
"That's very true," the blue-haired woman said. "How is Maggie?"
"I know it's just your marriage, but it still hurts," Victoria said. "I remember."
"Well, hurt is better than no feeling at all," Janice said. "In a way, this is good. I think I was having it all too easy."
"And Charles, Junior? How is Charles, Junior?" the blue-haired one went on.
"Never mind that, Trella," Victoria said. "This is serious. Now listen to me, Janice, if you're going to say something about this as a growth experience, you can forget it. Women our age don't need growth experiences."
"Oh, yes, we do," Janice said. "We need to keep taking chances, or we stagnate. Especially women our age. I don't think this divorce is my fault—"
"Good," Victoria muttered.
"Just one of those things," Trella murmured aimlessly.
"—but I don't think I was doing much to save my marriage, either. I was comfortable. So I didn't pay attention."
"This is not your fault," Victoria began, outrage in her voice.
"So this is really good for me," Janice went on serenely. "It's my wake-up call. I've only been doing the easy things. I've been in a rut. I need to take some risks, fail a little. I really believe that if you're not failing now and then, you're not trying hard enough. Failure says, well, at least you're living. You're stretching." She cocked her head at Victoria. "I'm planning on doing a lot more failing in the future. And a hell of a lot more succeeding too. I'll be fine."
"The worst thing about being your friend is constantly feeling inferior to you," Victoria said. "You're right, of course, but isn't there at least a tiny little part of you that wants to castrate Charles Meredith with a dull spoon?"
"Victoria, really," Trella said.
"Why don't we change the subject?" Janice said, patting Trella's hand. "How are the grandchildren, Trella?"
Dennie sank back away from the lattice and stared into space. That's my interview , she thought. She could hang the whole thing on the risking quote. Any other woman might bend under the weight of what Janice Meredith was going through, but she was going to go out and risk it all again. She was incredible. Patience would love her. Well, from now on Dennie was risking too.
And she was going to start with the biggest risk of all: She was going to approach Janice Meredith.
She waited until the three got up and parted company at the door of the restaurant, and then she followed her quarry to the elevator. Dennie jammed her hand in the closing doors and slid through the opening, smiling her best Hi-tell-me-about-your-wedding smile at the startled woman.
"Professor Meredith," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Dennie Banks, and I'm so pleased to meet you. I've enjoyed your work so much."
"Thank you." Janice Meredith took her hand cautiously and dropped it almost immediately.
"That's why I'd like to interview you," Dennie said. "I couldn't help but overhear you at lunch today—"
The woman's cool reserve froze immediately into iceberg disgust.
"—and I think what you said is terribly important," Dennie said hurriedly. "I think you have an important message for women in your position—"
The woman took a step back, and Dennie speeded up even more.
"—and I would be honored to be the writer who—"
"Miss Banks," Janice Meredith said coldly. "If I want a message sent, I will be the one to send it. And I might add, reputable journalists do not get their stories through eavesdropping."
"No, no," Dennie said, waving her hands. "I had the story before. I was looking for you. I came to this conference specifically to see you. To
"Are you really all right, Janice?" the dynamo was saying. "Don't be a martyr with us."
"Victoria, I am not now nor have I ever been a martyr," Janice Meredith said. "I've been better, but I'm doing fine. My marriage died, not my child."
"That's very true," the blue-haired woman said. "How is Maggie?"
"I know it's just your marriage, but it still hurts," Victoria said. "I remember."
"Well, hurt is better than no feeling at all," Janice said. "In a way, this is good. I think I was having it all too easy."
"And Charles, Junior? How is Charles, Junior?" the blue-haired one went on.
"Never mind that, Trella," Victoria said. "This is serious. Now listen to me, Janice, if you're going to say something about this as a growth experience, you can forget it. Women our age don't need growth experiences."
"Oh, yes, we do," Janice said. "We need to keep taking chances, or we stagnate. Especially women our age. I don't think this divorce is my fault—"
"Good," Victoria muttered.
"Just one of those things," Trella murmured aimlessly.
"—but I don't think I was doing much to save my marriage, either. I was comfortable. So I didn't pay attention."
"This is not your fault," Victoria began, outrage in her voice.
"So this is really good for me," Janice went on serenely. "It's my wake-up call. I've only been doing the easy things. I've been in a rut. I need to take some risks, fail a little. I really believe that if you're not failing now and then, you're not trying hard enough. Failure says, well, at least you're living. You're stretching." She cocked her head at Victoria. "I'm planning on doing a lot more failing in the future. And a hell of a lot more succeeding too. I'll be fine."
"The worst thing about being your friend is constantly feeling inferior to you," Victoria said. "You're right, of course, but isn't there at least a tiny little part of you that wants to castrate Charles Meredith with a dull spoon?"
"Victoria, really," Trella said.
"Why don't we change the subject?" Janice said, patting Trella's hand. "How are the grandchildren, Trella?"
Dennie sank back away from the lattice and stared into space. That's my interview , she thought. She could hang the whole thing on the risking quote. Any other woman might bend under the weight of what Janice Meredith was going through, but she was going to go out and risk it all again. She was incredible. Patience would love her. Well, from now on Dennie was risking too.
And she was going to start with the biggest risk of all: She was going to approach Janice Meredith.
She waited until the three got up and parted company at the door of the restaurant, and then she followed her quarry to the elevator. Dennie jammed her hand in the closing doors and slid through the opening, smiling her best Hi-tell-me-about-your-wedding smile at the startled woman.
"Professor Meredith," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Dennie Banks, and I'm so pleased to meet you. I've enjoyed your work so much."
"Thank you." Janice Meredith took her hand cautiously and dropped it almost immediately.
"That's why I'd like to interview you," Dennie said. "I couldn't help but overhear you at lunch today—"
The woman's cool reserve froze immediately into iceberg disgust.
"—and I think what you said is terribly important," Dennie said hurriedly. "I think you have an important message for women in your position—"
The woman took a step back, and Dennie speeded up even more.
"—and I would be honored to be the writer who—"
"Miss Banks," Janice Meredith said coldly. "If I want a message sent, I will be the one to send it. And I might add, reputable journalists do not get their stories through eavesdropping."
"No, no," Dennie said, waving her hands. "I had the story before. I was looking for you. I came to this conference specifically to see you. To
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