The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,49

and he thinks Peter may not come back, like his father. It would help a lot if he could see him sometime soon.”

There was a long pause as Bill Webster looked at her, and then nodded. She'd been through a lot, he was sure, and so had her kids.

“What can I do to help you?” he asked gently. “You have a lot on your plate, don't you?” The way he said it to her made her eyes fill with tears, and she turned away for a minute to compose herself before she answered. It was just as it had been right after Jack died, when people were kind to her, it broke down her defenses and made her cry.

“Just let him see Peter,” she said softly.

“Whenever you like. What about the others? Are they okay about it?” The family had clearly taken a heavy hit when their father was killed, and he wanted to do something now to ease their burdens. It made him realize what their brother represented to them, and to their mother. It gave him some insight into what he'd seen between them the day before.

“I think the girls understand, but it would reassure them to see him. I just didn't want to push too far. But it's really important for Jamie.”

“Bring him in first thing tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling moved by what he'd said to her, and not sure how to thank him.

She went back to Peter then, and stayed with him until he fell asleep, and then she went back to sleep herself on the couch in the waiting room. It was dark in the room, but she was still awake when Bill opened the door and looked in at her. He couldn't see if she was sleeping, and he was afraid to disturb her. He just stood watching her for a long moment until he spoke.

“Liz?” It was the first time he had used her first name, and she sat up, worried about Peter again.

“Is something wrong?” She set her feet down on the carpet, and tossed off the blanket she'd been given by the nurses.

“No, everything's fine. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see if you were all right. … I wondered if you wanted a cup of tea or something.” It was the middle of the night and coffee didn't seem like an appropriate suggestion. He was working, but she was supposed to be asleep. “Did I wake you?” he asked in the dark, feeling guilty for disturbing her. But he'd been thinking about her and wanted to talk.

“No, I was awake. My sleep habits aren't what they used to be, before …” The words drifted off, but they both understood. “Maybe some tea would help, or soup or something.” There was a machine down the hall, near his office. She'd bought both soup and tea there before, but as she put her shoes on and followed him down the hall, he offered her tea from a pot in his office.

She sat down in a chair, feeling rumpled and uncombed, but he didn't look like he'd care. He looked worse than she did, after working all night.

“What kind of law do you specialize in?” he asked, as he sipped a mug of coffee.

“Family law … divorce. …”

He nodded knowingly. “I've had a little experience with that myself, but not in a long time.” He didn't look as though the memory was pleasant, but he managed a small, wintry smile.

“Are you divorced?” she asked, and he nodded. “Kids?”

“Nope. No time. I was a resident when we got married, and she was an intern. Some people manage to have kids then, but it always seemed foolish to me. I didn't want to have kids until I could spend some time with them, and enjoy them. You know,” he smiled, “like maybe when I'm eighty.” He had a nice smile, and a kinder look in his eyes than she had at first suspected. She had disliked him intensely when she first met him. He seemed so brusque, so rude, so uncaring, but she realized now that he had more important things on his mind, like saving lives, and sometimes, in his line of work, it was a matter of split seconds, and getting information from patients’ families as fast as you could. The day before he had seemed so harsh and abrupt to her, and now he seemed both pleasant and kind. “I've been divorced for ten years,”