James Patterson - Honeymoon

I had an idea then. Maybe a way of getting my priorities back in order.

I dialed Susan again and told her what I wanted to do.

“I need a couple of days off.”

Chapter 79

NORA STEPPED OFF the elevator on the eighth floor of the Pine Woods Psychiatric Facility. She took a swig of water, finished it off, and tossed the empty bottle in a trash barrel. As she always did, she walked to the nurses’ station. Except no one was there that afternoon. Not Emily. Or Patsy. What an apt name that is. Not anyone.

“Hello?” she called out.

There was no response, just the echo of her own voice.

Nora hesitated for a moment before deciding to continue on down the hallway. It wasn’t as if she had to sign in after all these years.

“Hello, Mother.”

Olivia Sinclair turned to her daughter, who was standing in the doorway. “Hello,” she replied with her usual blank smile.

Nora gave her a kiss on the cheek and pulled up a chair. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I like to read, you know.”

“You do,” said Nora. She placed her purse down on the floor and reached into the plastic bag she had with her. Out came a copy of Patricia Cornwell’s latest novel. “Here you go. I didn’t forget this time.”

Olivia Sinclair took the book and slowly ran the palm of her hand over the cover. With her index finger she traced the embossed lettering of the title.

“You’re looking a lot better, Mother. Do you realize how much you scared me last time?”

Nora watched as her mother’s gaze remained on the novel’s shiny cover. Of course she doesn’t realize anything. The walls she’d built around her world were too thick.

But that fact, usually the cause for Nora’s pain every time she visited, was now cause for relief. From the moment her mother suffered the seizure, she worried that she’d been responsible. Her tears, her emotions, the sudden compulsion to admit her sins—everything she had no business bringing with her into that room—had triggered the reaction. The more Nora thought about it, the more she was convinced that’s what had happened.

Not now, though.

To look at her mother—so removed, so totally oblivious—was to know that the incident had nothing to do with her. Strange as it seemed, the idea that she could’ve been responsible for the seizure would have been reason for hope.

“I think you’re going to enjoy that book, Mother. Kay Scarpetta. You’ll let me know next time, okay?”

“I like to read, you know.”

Nora smiled. For the remainder of her visit she spoke only of positive things, fun things. Occasionally her mother looked at her, but most of the time she stared at the turned-off television.

“Okay, I think I’m going to be leaving now,” Nora said after about an hour.

She watched as her mother picked up the plastic cup sitting on the bedside table. It was empty.

“Do you want some water?” asked Nora.

Her mother nodded as Nora stood and reached for the pitcher.

“Whoops, that’s empty, too.” Nora took the pitcher and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Her mother nodded again.

Then she waited. As soon as she heard the sound of the faucet, Olivia reached beneath the bedcover for the letter she’d written. It explained so many things she’d wanted to tell her daughter for so many years but knew she couldn’t.

Now she felt she had to tell Nora the truth.

Olivia swung her bare feet off the bed and reached down to Nora’s open purse, the letter clutched tightly in her hand. She let it fall inside. After all this time, it was as simple as letting go.

Chapter 80

“THERE YOU ARE!”

A startled Emily Barrows looked up from her seat at the nurses’ station to see Nora standing in front of her, looking gorgeous as ever, of course. She hadn’t heard her footsteps. She was too engrossed in her book.

“Oh, hi, Nora.”

“I didn’t see you when I got here.”

“Sorry, dear. I must have been in the bathroom,” said Emily. “It’s just me here this afternoon.”

“What happened to that other nurse—the one you were training?”

“You mean Patsy? She called in sick today.” Emily nodded at the open book in front of her. “Thankfully, it’s been a quiet one.”

“What are you reading?”

Emily held up the cover. A Time for Mercy, by Jeffrey Walker. Nora smiled. “He’s good.”

“The best.”

“Not too hard on the eyes, either, huh?”

“If you’re into tall and ruggedly handsome, I suppose.”

Emily watched as Nora laughed. This was definitely not the tight, dour woman who’d shown up last time. If anything, she seemed in a better mood than she’d ever been.

“Did you have a nice visit with your mother, Nora? Seems like it.”

“Yes, I did. It was certainly better than the last time I was here.” Nora tucked her hair behind her ears. “That reminds me,” she said. “I want to apologize for my behavior that day. I was very emotional. You, on the other hand, calmly took care of things. You were great. Thank you, Emily.”

“You’re welcome, but that’s what I’m here for.”

“Well, I’m glad you were here that day.” Nora glanced down at Emily’s book. “Tell you what, when his next one comes out I’ll get you an autographed copy.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I happen to know Mr. Walker. I did some work with him.”

Emily’s smile was radiant. “Oh God, that would make my day all right. My week!”

“It’s the least I could do.” Nora flashed a warm smile. “After all, what are friends for?”

Figure of speech or not, Emily knew that it was a nice thing to say. Nora finally waved good-bye and headed for the elevator bank.

After Emily watched her hit the DOWN button, she returned to her Jeffrey Walker novel. Only when she heard the closing elevator doors did she look back up. That’s when she saw it.

Nora’s purse was on the counter.

Emily figured that she’d realize she’d left it by the time she reached the lobby. Just the same, she called down to security. Hanging up the phone, she resumed her reading. But before she could finish a sentence, her eyes went back to the beautiful and expensive-looking purse.

She noticed it was open.

Chapter 81

ELAINE AND ALLISON could hardly believe their ears. They weren’t used to Nora talking about another man—not since her husband, Tom, had died suddenly.

But that’s what their good friend was doing as they ate dinner amid the exposed brick walls of the Mercer Kitchen in SoHo that night. In fact, talking didn’t begin to describe it. Gushing was more like it. This was so not Nora.

“There’s this incredible energy with him, just beneath the surface. This quiet confidence I just love. He’s down-to-earth, but he’s special.”

“Wow. Who knew insurance guys could be so sexy?” joked Elaine.

“Certainly not me,” said Nora. “But Craig, well, he shouldn’t be an insurance man.”

“More important, how does he dress? ” asked Allison, ever the fashion editor.

“Nice suits, but nothing stuffy. He likes to go open collar. I don’t think I’ve seen him in a tie.”

“Okay, let’s cut to the chase,” said Elaine with a wave of her hand. “How is your fella in bed?”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Elaine!”

“What? We tell each other everything.”

“Yeah, but they just met. How do you know they’ve even had sex yet?” Allison turned to Nora with a sneaky grin.

“We’ve had sex.”

Elaine and Allison leaned forward on their elbows. “ And? ” they both asked simultaneously.