The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,56

he was ready to come home, four days before Labor Day, more than fifty people had accepted. She was working out Peter's discharge plan and his therapy schedule with Bill Webster, when she thought of extending an invitation to him. “It's kind of a celebration for Peter,” she explained, “it would be great if you could come. It's very informal, just jeans and sweaters.”

“Can I wear scrubs? I don't think I own anything else. I never have time to go anywhere.” But he looked pleased to be invited, and told her that if he wasn't working, he'd be there.

“We'd love to have you.” They had a lot to thank him for, and it was a nice way to do it. She had sent him a case of wine too, and he'd been pleased to receive it from her. But suddenly it seemed right that he be there to celebrate Peter's homecoming. Without him, Peter might not have been there at all, it was an intolerable thought.

Most of all, Bill urged her not to let Peter overdo it. He was young, and he'd be straining at the bit once he got home, wanting to see his friends and run around with them. But otherwise, Bill thought he'd be fine, and have no residual effect of the accident, once he finished his therapy, which would be by Christmas. “Keep a tight rein on him for a while,” he admonished her, and she nodded.

“I'll do that.” He wasn't going to be able to drive for a month or two, until he got the brace off his neck, and she knew that that was really going to be hard on Peter, and she'd be playing chauffeur more than she had time for. But someone had to do it, and a lot of the time, Carole was busy with the girls and Jamie. “We'll manage.”

“Keep in touch. And call me if he has any problems.”

On the morning Peter left the hospital, Bill came to say good-bye to both of them, and he shook Liz's hand with a warm look. It was obvious that he was going to miss her. She had spent a fair amount of time in his office, drinking coffee and chatting, and they had grown comfortable with each other. She reminded him about the Labor Day party, and he said he'd do his best to be there.

“He'll be there, Mom,” Peter confirmed as they drove away.

“Not if he has to work,” she said matter-of-factly, but she was sorry to see the last of him too. After the experience he'd gotten them through, he felt like a friend now, and she would be forever grateful to him.

“He'll be there,” Peter repeated smugly. “I told you, he likes you.”

“Don't be such a wiseass,” she said with a grin, unconcerned by what he was saying. He was just Peter's doctor.

“I'll bet you ten bucks he comes,” Peter said, readjusting his neck brace.

“You can't afford it,” his mother said, and slipped quietly into the traffic. And whether or not Bill came to their Labor Day party, she assured herself, was entirely unimportant. She had convinced herself of it, though not Peter, as he smiled at her.

Chapter 8

The Labor Day party was a big success. All of the kids’ friends came, and most of their parents, and some people Liz hadn't seen since before Jack died. Victoria and her husband came, and brought the triplets. Liz and Peter manned the barbecue, and he did very well, despite his neck brace. And Annie, Rachel, and Megan mingled with the guests. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and half an hour after the party began, Bill Webster wandered in, and looked a little lost until he saw Jamie.

“Hi, remember me?” He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt, his hair was neatly combed, and Jamie smiled as soon as he saw him.

“I remember you. You don't like shots either.” Jamie grinned up at him.

“Right. How's Peter doing?”

“Pretty good, except he yells at me when I jump on him.”

“He's right, not to yell, but you need to be a little careful with him. His neck is kind of broken.”

“I know. That's why he wears the big necklace.”

“I guess you could call it that. Where's your mom?” Bill asked, smiling.

“Over there.” He pointed to the barbecue, and Bill nodded, watching her make hamburgers. She was wearing a barbecue apron over jeans, and her red hair stuck out in the crowd, as did Peter's. And in spite of the fact