The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,27

helped to hear his coach but it couldn't take away the pain.

“No one said this was going to be easy,” Liz said with a sigh. “But this is what life dished out to us for right now. We have to try and make the best of it. Maybe if we just do it for Daddy, he would have wanted us to be okay. And one day, we will be again.”

“When?” Annie asked miserably. “How long will we feel like this? The rest of our lives?”

“It feels like that right now. I don't know,” Liz said honestly. “How long does anything hurt? A long time sometimes, but not forever.” She wished she believed that herself as they all went back upstairs again. The house had never been as quiet. They were all in their rooms with their doors closed, there was no sound of music blaring from within, and the phone hardly rang. Liz kissed them all good night when they went to bed, even Peter, and they hugged each other for a long time without words. There was nothing left to say. All they could do now was survive it. And Jamie slept in her bed again that night. She didn't encourage him to go back to his own bed, because it was so nice having him there so she didn't have to sleep alone. But all she could think of as she turned off the light and lay next to her sleeping child was how much she missed Jack, and ask herself, and him, if he could see her from where he was, how she was ever going to get through this. There were no answers yet. There was no joy left in their life. Only the unbearable agony of losing him, and the gaping hole he had left, which was only filled with the pain of missing him. It was still a physical ache for all of them, and especially for her, as she lay awake again all night, crying for him, and holding on to Jamie. She felt as though she were drowning as she clung to her youngest child.

Chapter 4

By Valentine's Day, Jack had been gone for seven weeks, and the kids were starting to feel better. Liz had talked to the girls’ school psychologist, who had given her the mixed blessing of telling her that somewhere around six to eight weeks, the kids would turn the corner, and start to be happier again. They would adjust, but by then, Liz would feel worse for a while, as the full reality of it hit her.

And as she walked into the office on Valentine's Day, Liz finally believed her. Jack had always made a big deal out of holidays. He bought roses for her on Valentine's Day, and he always got her a present. But everything about this year was different. She had to appear in court for clients twice that day, and she was finding it harder and harder to do that. Her clients’ animosity toward the spouses they were divorcing seemed unnecessarily venomous to her, and the cruel tricks they pulled on each other and wanted her to pull on their behalf seemed so pointless. She was beginning to hate their law practice, and wondered why she had let Jack talk her into family law in the first place.

She had said as much to Victoria when she last talked to her. Her boys kept her busy as they were still in nursery school, and she and Liz had had trouble getting together, but they still had time for long conversations on the phone late at night.

“What other kind of law would you rather do?” Victoria had asked sensibly. “You always told me you hated personal injury when I was doing it, and I can't see you doing criminal.”

“There are other specialties. I don't know, maybe something to do with kids. All my clients are so busy trying to screw each other over, they forget about their children.” Children's advocacy had always appealed to her, but Jack had always been quick to remind her there was no money in it. He wasn't greedy, but he was practical, and they had five kids to support. They made a good living in family law, and it was difficult to ignore that.

But she was reminded again of how much she hated it on the afternoon of Valentine's Day when she walked out of court having won some minor point for one of her clients. She had allowed herself to