The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,75

confused and upset. He had told her he was off for the holiday, which was how it had all started.

“I think I'll go back anyway. At least I know what I'm doing there. I think family scenes, particularly on holidays, aren't my strong suit.” In truth, he had done fine, but the deck had been stacked against him, and he knew it. It had been a no-win situation right from the beginning. He looked at Liz from where he stood, and neither of them moved, but she knew that something terrible was happening, and they were both afraid to say it. “Thanks for dinner, Liz. I'll call you.” And without another word, he walked out the front door and slammed it behind him, as she sat staring at it.

Jamie looked up at her then, having finished his pie, and commented on the situation. “He forgot to say good-bye to me. Is he mad at me?”

“No, sweetheart. He's mad at me. Your sisters were very rude to him.”

“Are you going to spank them?” She smiled at the question. She never had, and she wasn't planning to start now at their age, but the suggestion was certainly tempting.

“No, but someone should.”

“Santa Claus is going to put coal in their stockings,” Jamie said with a solemn look, and Liz smiled sadly. Just thinking about Christmas made her shudder. It was the anniversary of Jack's death, and she realized that under no circumstances could she include Bill in what they were doing. The Thanksgiving they had just experienced had taught her a painful lesson.

She and Jamie cleared the rest of the table then, and afterwards she went upstairs to talk to her daughters. Peter was sitting with all of them, and it was obvious that Megan had been crying.

“I hate him!” She spat at her mother, but Liz managed to stay calm in spite of the havoc she had caused. She knew what was behind it.

“I don't think you do, Meg. What's to hate? He's a nice man, even if he did play football in college. What you hate is the fact that your father's gone. So do I. But there's nothing we can do about it. And it's not Bill's fault. I shouldn't have invited him to join us today, and I'm sorry.”

Peter touched her arm with a gentle smile. He admired her so much, she was always straight with them, and he knew how much she loved them. She had been there for him in every possible way after his accident that summer. And he was sorry for her that their Thanksgiving had been such a disaster, and that Bill had been Megan's scapegoat. Like Liz, he understood perfectly why it had happened. Better than Bill did. In his opinion, Bill had overreacted, and he said as much to his mother when he walked her back to her own room.

“I'm not sure I blame him. The kids hit pretty hard, and he's not used to that. He doesn't have kids, he hasn't been married in a long time. I think his feelings were hurt. He feels like he can't measure up to your father.”

“Give him time,” Peter smiled. “They'll get used to him,” he said hopefully.

“I hope so.”

She lay on her bed in the dark for a while, in her brown velvet suit, with her shoes off, thinking about Jack, and Bill, and her children. It was a complicated situation, and she had her own grief and feelings to contend with. There was hardly room for them, she was always too busy dealing with other people. And as she lay there, she started to cry as she thought of her husband and how much she missed him. He had left a huge hole behind, and sometimes it seemed like there was no way to fill it. She loved Bill, but not the way she had loved her husband. At least not yet, but she thought she might someday. It would always be different because they were different people.

The phone rang while she was still lying there in the dark, and she reached out a hand to answer it, without turning the light on. It was Bill, and he sounded stressed. He didn't sound any better than he had when he left. In fact, he sounded slightly worse, but he said there was something he had to tell her.

“What's that?” she asked, with her eyes closed, still missing Jack, and feeling terrible about what had happened. She still felt as though she had