The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,28

get talked into filing a motion against the woman's ex-husband more for its nuisance value than for any real legal reason, and the judge had correctly scolded her for it, but granted the motion. The victory was hollow for her as a result, and she felt stupid as she drove back to the office.

“Did you lose?” Jean asked when she saw her walk into the office. Liz looked tired and annoyed and seemed irritable when she picked up her messages on the way into her office.

“No. We won. But the judge said it was frivolous, and he was right. I don't know why I let her talk me into it. All she really wanted to do was annoy him. Jack would have put his foot down.” But Jack wasn't there anymore to discuss things with, or bounce things off of, or make her laugh, and keep their clients in line. He had made it fun for her, and kept their practice exciting. Now it was just drudgery, and she no longer felt she was doing the best possible job for their clients. “Maybe my mother was right two months ago, and I should close the office.”

“I don't think so,” Jean said quietly, “unless that's what you want to do.” She knew the insurance money had come in the week before, and Liz could afford to close the office for a while and decide what she wanted to do, but she thought she'd be miserable sitting at home with too much time on her hands. She had worked for too long, done it too well, and had enjoyed it too much to just give it up now. “Give it time, maybe it'll get to be fun again for you, Liz. Or maybe you just have to put your foot down with your clients, and be more selective about the cases you take now.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” She left early that afternoon, and didn't tell anyone where she was going. There was something she wanted to do, and she knew she had to do it alone. She stopped and bought a dozen roses on the way out of town, and she drove to the cemetery, and stood at his grave for a long time. There was no headstone yet, and she laid the roses down on the grass, and then stood there and cried for an hour, racked by sobs.

“I love you,” she whispered finally, and then walked away in the chill wind, with her head down, and her hands deep in her pockets. She cried all the way home, and she was just a few blocks away when she missed a stop sign, and rolled blindly through it, just as a young woman left the curb and dashed across the street. Liz's Volvo and the young woman's left hip collided instantly, and she crumpled toward the ground with a startled expression as Liz stomped on the brakes, put the car into park, and leapt out of the car to help her. There were still tears on her face as she helped the young woman up, and three cars honked at her, and people shouted out their windows at her.

“What are you? Crazy, or drunk? I saw that!”

“You hit her! I was a witness…. You okay?” the driver shouted to her victim, as both women stood trembling in front of Liz's car, and tears continued to pour down Liz's face.

“I'm so sorry, I … I don't know what happened. I didn't see the stop sign,” she said to her victim, but she did know what had happened. She had been to the cemetery to see Jack and she was so distraught she had hit the woman who had every right to be crossing the street. It was entirely Liz's fault, and she herself knew it.

“I'm okay … don't worry…. You just barely touched me,” the young woman reassured her.

“I could have killed you,” Liz said in horror, and both women were holding each other's arms, as though to hold each other up, and the woman who'd been hit looked at Liz, and realized Liz was in a daze.

“Are you okay?” Liz nodded in answer, barely able to speak, desperately sorry about what had happened, and frightened of what could have.

“I'm so sorry … my husband just died … and I was at the cemetery just now … I shouldn't have been driving. …”

“Why don't we both sit down….” They both got into Liz's car, and she offered to take the woman to the hospital,