The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,82
home, on child advocacy. It's what I really loved about what we did. I hated all the catfights and all the fancy footwork, and all the bravado and bullshit. That was always more Jack's style than mine. I care about the kids, and that's all I want to do now.”
Jean smiled generously at her, and came around the desk to give her a hug. “You did the right thing, kid. This place is going to kill you. You'll be great at the child advocacy stuff.”
“I hope so.” Liz looked worried then. “But what are you going to do? I've been thinking about it all morning.”
“It's time for me to grow up too. This may sound crazy at my age”—she was forty-three—” I want to go to law school.” Liz beamed at her, and then laughed. It was the perfect solution.
“Well, don't go into family law, you'll hate it.”
“I want to go into criminal, and work in the prosecutor's office.”
“Good for you.” Liz estimated it would take her three months to wind up all her cases, and then she wanted to take a few months off, and let everyone know what she'd be doing. She had earned a break, and she wanted to spend the time with her children. They had been patient for the last year, while she kept a dozen balls in the air, and worked long hours and endless days. She felt as though she owed it to them to take a break now.
“If I apply to law school before the end of the year,” Jean said, looking pleased, “I should be able to start in June, or at the latest September. That'll give me a couple of months off too. It'll do us both good.” They both felt as though they had aged a century in the last year, although they didn't look it.
Liz was still sitting at her desk chatting with Jean when Carole called, and Jean thought she detected a note of panic, but Jean didn't say anything to Liz when she told her Carole was on the phone. She figured it was just her imagination, and Carole was too busy over Christmas with the kids home.
“Hi there.” Liz was feeling expansive and relaxed, after having made her momentous decision. “What's up?”
“Jamie.” The way she said it rang a bell from the previous summer. She was speaking in shorthand.
“What happened?” Liz felt a sudden wave of panic as she waited for an answer.
“He was trying to hang a papier-mâché angel we made on the Christmas tree. He got the ladder out while I was doing something for Meg, and he fell. I think his arm is broken.”
“Shit.” It was five days before Christmas. And now that Liz listened carefully, she could hear him crying in the background.
“How bad is it?”
“It's at a very nasty angle.”
“I'll meet you at the hospital as soon as I can get there.” At least it was nothing as dramatic as what had happened to Peter, or little Justin the night before. But it was the first time Jamie had broken anything, and she knew he'd be panicked. She grabbed her coat and bag and ran out the door as Jean asked her what had happened. “Broken arm,” Liz shouted as she ran down the stairs. There never seemed to be a minute to just sit down and enjoy life. But what was there to enjoy these days anyway? Christmas was looming like a boulder about to fall on them, Jack was gone, and so was Bill now too. Merry Christmas.
Chapter 12
Liz flew into the hospital emergency room as she had the night before at Children's for Helene, and this time she was the anxious mother and not the professional comforter. It was a little different. Jamie was obviously in pain when she arrived, and screamed every time one of the nurses tried to touch him, and it made Liz feel sick when she looked at the way his arm was sticking out. There was no doubt about the fact that it was broken. The only question was how badly.
They were trying to reason with him when she arrived, but they had already concluded that they were going to have to sedate him, and they were going to take him up to surgery to set the arm.
An orthopedic surgeon had been called, and Carole looked guilty and frantic.
“I'm so sorry, Liz … I took my eyes off him for five minutes. …”