Micki jumped at the sound of her father’s quiet voice, the gentle touch of his hand on her arm. “Is it over?” Sitting up straight, she winced at the twinge of pain at the base of her spine and brought her hand up to massage the stiffness in her neck caused by the hard rim of the aluminum chair. Glancing around, she saw the deck was empty of all the other people. What time was it? “Over an hour ago.” Bruce laughed softly. ‘The party’s breaking up. It’s time to go home.” “I’m ready.” Moving carefully, Micki lifted her cramped body out of the chair, one hand going to her mouth to cover a wide yawn. In a young-girl, sleepy voice, she apologized, thanked, and said good night to her indulgently smiling host and hostess, then followed her father and Regina out to the hushed sidewalk. Trailing a few steps behind the couple, she watched as her father’s arm slid around his wife’s waist, heard his low voice murmur something close to her ear.
