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BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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Going to the door, Mattie turned off the light and leaned against the jamb for a moment. It was hard watching them all hurt so much. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t have done or have given to ease their pain and suffering. She couldn’t help but think how much harder it must have been for God. He, too, watched His children suffer, knowing that He could interfere, but also knowing that it was better to allow them to make their own choices. Choices made of free will were always better than those forced upon you, Mattie reasoned.

She sighed and suddenly felt very tired and very old. Maybe a nap was in order. Her stomach growled loudly and suddenly she realized that she’d not eaten since the night before. Maybe lunch and then a nap, she reasoned, heading for the kitchen. No sense in going to bed hungry.

Chapter 22

Brook looked at her sparsely furnished apartment and wondered why she’d even bothered to keep the place at all. There was nothing here that couldn’t easily be loaded into a small rental truck and driven away. Even her wardrobe was minimal. She supposed it was because she made her living wearing clothes that they held very little interest for her of late.

She looked at the empty walls and realized that she’d never really made this quiet sanctuary a home. She had never been one to collect mementos from her trips abroad, so there were no little personal knickknacks on the shelves. Even the few comforts of life that she had afforded herself—TV, VCR, stereo, and such—all seemed rather impersonal now.

Stretching out on the simple beige sofa, Brook gave serious thought as to what she should do with her life.

“I’m thirty years old,” she reminded herself. As if anyone needed to remind her. The jobs were fewer than even two years ago and the glamour and excitement seemed to fade with each lengthy airline flight. “I miss simplicity,” she decided aloud.

And it was true. She had longed for the quiet of the farm ever since she had gone home for Rachelle’s funeral. Brook had felt a craving for the smell of the country, the peaceful visions of wheat waving in the breeze, of pastoral fields and wild flowers. Even now she could close her eyes and see those things clearly imprinted on her childhood memories.

The telephone rang, disturbing the gentle scene. Reaching over
her head, she felt around for the phone and finally took hold of the receiver on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Erica.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” Brook said, really meaning it.

“I thought I’d call and see how you were doing.”

“I’m great. Just vegging out here on the couch and being extremely lazy.”

“Me too.”

“So how did your trip to Grammy’s go? You were headed down there last week, weren’t you?” Brook questioned. Erica didn’t answer right away, and Brook immediately sensed the tension in her voice when she did speak.

“It was okay.”

“Want to give me the real version?”

Again Erica hesitated. “Well, it’s just that . . . things could have been better.”

“How so?”

“Well, we kind of got into a fight.”

“You and Grammy?”

Erica laughed. “No, silly. Me and Connie and Deirdre.”

“Oh, you were all down there together?”

“Yes, but it didn’t turn out so nice.”

The next thing Brook knew, Erica was spilling the beans and telling her everything that had happened.

“Sounds kind of silly to me,” Brook finally said. “Like when we were little kids and would fight over stupid issues.”

“It wasn’t silly,” Erica said in a tone that suggested Brook had stepped on her toes.

“Well, you have to admit, three grown women fighting over who was living their life the right way seems rather foolish. I mean, you’re all individual people. You’re going to have your own interests and beliefs.”

“What would you know about it?” Erica snapped in uncharacteristic
anger. “You’re never home long enough to know what anything’s about.”

The words hurt Brook deeply. “I guess I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Well, you should be. Look, I’ve got to go,” Erica said, suddenly seeming to be in a hurry.

“I really am sorry, Erica. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later.”

Brook hung up the phone feeling rather dejected. She hadn’t meant to make Erica feel bad. She had only said what she had to help her sister see how pointless it was to argue over someone else’s choice. Until they wanted to make changes for themselves, it really didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

This gave Brook something to consider for herself as well. She had given ten years of her life to modeling, and not only was she worried about what the next ten years might hold, she was tired. Tired of being told what to do. Tired of having her entire life dictated to her by a woman whose main interest was how much money Brook could bring in.

“I miss my family,” Brook muttered. “Especially Grammy and Ashley.”

She sat up and picked up the telephone again. Dialing Grammy’s number, she frowned as the busy signal tone pulsated against her ear. Refusing to give up, she hung up and then redialed. This time she called Ashley.

Jack answered in a rather preoccupied manner. “Dr. Issacs.”

“Jack, it’s Brook.”

“Oh,” he seemed to pause for a moment as if trying to remember who she was. “How are you?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Look, you sound busy. Did I call at a bad time?”

“Well, I’m not sure there’s really any good time—not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve thought about calling you, but to tell you the truth, Ashley hasn’t wanted me to.”

“Why not?”

Jack lowered his voice as if to keep his words a complete secret. “She’s extremely depressed.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since the accident.”

Brook shook her head. “I knew she was sad about the baby and the hysterectomy, but I thought she was getting over it. I mean, when I did talk to her last, she sounded so positive.”

“It’s all a show. I thought, given the way you two read each other like books, you’d have realized that.”

Jack’s words stung. Maybe if she hadn’t been so busy with her career, she would have realized it. Maybe she had realized it but had pushed it aside, knowing it would cost her too much time and effort to acknowledge it and do something about it.

“Is there anything I can do? Can I talk to her now?”

“She won’t come to the phone. She won’t see anybody or do much of anything. I’m just glad the boys are off seeing my brother.”

“What if I come out? I mean, if I’m there, she’ll have to deal with me,” Brook suggested.

“Do you have time to get away?”

“I’ll make time.”

“I think it might be the very thing she needs. You two could go up to the house in Estes and get away from everything. I had Ashley up there earlier and she seemed better there than here in Denver. Either way, she needs something, and I don’t seem to be able to give it to her.”

“Well, I’ll just start packing and get the first flight out to Denver. Don’t worry about picking me up or anything, I’ll rent a car.”

“Thanks, Brook. I think this is going to make a big difference for Ashley.”

Brook hung up the phone and frowned. Why hadn’t she sensed Ashley’s dilemma? They were usually so aware of problems in each other’s lives. Brook understood Ashley feeling bad about the baby. Brook, too, felt a sense of loss over the death of her unborn niece or
nephew. She felt she could even understand Ashley’s disappointment over the hysterectomy. After all, she knew how she’d feel if she couldn’t have children.

Shaking her head, she grabbed her address book and quickly punched in the numbers for her regular airline. She booked a seat out on the afternoon flight and instantly went to work to pack the necessary items. Some time away in a Rocky Mountain cabin sounded like just the thing to give her some perspective on life.

She was nearly ready to walk out the door when she realized she hadn’t called her manager. As if on cue, the telephone rang and Brook was surprised to hear Miriam’s voice ring out on the other end.

“Brook, great news! That modeling job for Calvin Klein is yours. We leave tomorrow for Bermuda.”

“I can’t go,” Brook said, hardly able to believe she was saying the words.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, I can’t go. My sister needs me in Denver. I was just on my way out the door to catch my flight.”

“Did you plan to tell me about this?” Miriam sounded completely miffed.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I was just about to call you when the telephone rang.”

“Well, you’re going to have to cancel your plans. That’s all there is to it.”

“I can’t. Ashley needs me.”

“Brook, do I need to remind you how hard we’ve worked to get you this assignment? The image they’re usually after isn’t exactly what you have to offer. If you walk out on this deal, don’t expect them to shed any tears over it. They’ll simply have me reassign it to Kristy or Zoe, maybe even Sheila.”

She had purposefully listed off Brook’s strongest competition, and it really bothered Brook to realize Miriam was being intentionally mean. Her stomach churned.

“I’m sorry, Miriam. You’ll have to give it to someone else. My sister is severely depressed and she needs me. I didn’t insist on going when she had her accident, although I probably should have, but I’m insisting now.”

“Well, have it your way. This is breech of contract as far as I’m concerned.”

“I don’t think so, Miriam,” Brook replied, feeling her temper starting to kick in. “If you’ll check that piece of paper again, it says that I get final say on all projects. Remember?”

Miriam was silent for several moments. “You know you aren’t getting any younger. You can’t hope to keep this up much longer. Maybe it’s time for you to start thinking about what else you can do with your life.”

Brook frowned. “Maybe so. Maybe that’s what I’ll think about when I’m in Colorado.”

“Well, fine. Be kind enough to let me know when you get back. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Brook clenched her teeth and ignored the pain in her stomach. “I’ll call you when I’m back.”

She slammed the receiver down angrily, then stared at the phone for a moment before gathering her purse and suitcase and heading for the door. Maybe Colorado was the answer. Maybe she could make some difficult decisions while spending time with Ashley. She paused by the door, fighting a wave of nausea.

“I’m not going to give in to it,” she told herself and opened the door. “I need to reclaim my life, and this is where I start.”

Chapter 23

After nearly a week of receiving the silent treatment from Dave, Deirdre had changed her mind about turning the five hundred over to him. She’d argued with herself and decided that if he asked, she’d tell him that she was keeping it for something. Or she’d tell him it was extra money they had to pay out for canceling on the trip. She’d lie to him in whatever way she had to, because frankly, he was beginning to scare her.

Deirdre had never, in all her years of knowing Dave, seen him act in the manner he did now. He walked through his day like a zombie. At least when he was at home, in full view of her and Morgan, that was how he acted. Who knew what type of persona he took on at the office. He seemed so completely preoccupied with his case that no matter what anyone else said to him, it barely seemed to register. Deirdre even had to tell his mother, when she had called long distance from St. Louis, that Dave wasn’t taking any calls. The woman had been hurt by her son’s attitude, especially in light of the fact that she’d called in hopes of coordinating a get-together for Father’s Day.

Deirdre had tried to smooth things over, reminding Julie Woodward that her son had canceled his own anniversary trip and suffered tremendous financial loss because of it. Her mother-in-law had been sympathetic but understandably hurt by Dave’s rejection. Deirdre had ended the conversation by telling her that right now Dave wasn’t the same person they knew and loved. This Dave belonged to the law firm and to the corporation he was defending, and to no one else.

By Thursday Deirdre had convinced herself that the necklace was no longer important to her. She had to use the five hundred to recoup some of the financial loss of the trip and ease Dave’s burden. She reasoned that she was doing it for Dave, but in her heart she knew it was the hope that she could still win back the money that was driving her to this decision.

BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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