A Shot of Red Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Tracy March
frantic.
Mia swallowed hard, her heart going out to Nora. She ran down her schedule, wondering when she’d have time to visit, feeling as if she owed it to Brent.
“I can come tomorrow after work—about five thirty. Is that a good time for you?”
“Not today?”
What could Nora have to share that had her so keyed up? Mia didn’t have a good feeling about it, and wanted to find out sooner rather than later. She glanced at her watch. Three hours until the press conference.
“Are you still living at the Broadmoor?” Mia asked.
“Yes. On the eighth floor—802.”
“I’m not too far from there. Give me about fifteen minutes.”
Mia ended the call and gave Claude an imploring look. “We need to make a detour to the Broadmoor, and a stop at the florist on the way.”
…
Mia clutched a bouquet of fresh wildflowers as she stood at Nora’s door. She took a deep breath and knocked. Footsteps sounded on the other side, and Mia braced herself. The door opened with a creak .
Mia expected Nora to look stressed, tired, and grieved. But she wasn’t prepared to see her looking as if she’d aged years during the months Mia had been away. Surely a lot of the damage had been done during the last couple of weeks.
Nora hunched a little, dressed in black slacks that seemed to hang on her gaunt frame, and a loose-knit lavender pullover meant for way cooler weather. The color did nothing to complement the ashen tone of her skin, and her face was drawn with tension. Even so, her short gray hair was carefully styled, and she wore a little lipstick to give herself some color.
Mia’s heart ached for her. No mother should have to lose her child. “I’m so sorry, Nora.” She fought back tears as she embraced Brent’s mom, finding little more than bones to hold on to.
Nora hugged her. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Mia pulled away and they went inside the apartment, where little had changed since Mia had been there last. Nora kept her furnishings updated, and Brent had given her a large flat-screen HD television to watch all her favorites such as HGTV and classic car auctions. Despite the encroaching darkness, the blinds were still open, the deepening shadows of wooded Rock Creek Park shifting in the distance.
“These are for you.” Mia handed Nora the wildflower bouquet. “They seem so inadequate, considering…”
Nora gave her a small smile. “They’re lovely.” She took the flowers and went into the adjacent kitchen, returning with them in a vase. She placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch, next to a decorative brushed-silver urn affixed with an engraved plaque that read Brent Harlan English, Beloved Son.
Brent’s ashes?
Other plants and flower arrangements that people had sent brightened the apartment, but Mia could hardly tear her gaze away from the urn.
“Have a seat,” Nora said. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” Mia sat on the edge of an upholstered chair. “I have to be at a press conference in a little while, so I’m afraid I can’t stay long.”
Nora settled nearby on the couch. The awkwardness of all that had happened hung in the air between them. Mia regretted that the comfortable vibe they used to share was no longer there. But what had she expected? “I don’t know where to start.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation about what happened,” Nora said sincerely. “Although I listened while Brent talked about it over and over.”
A pang of guilt shot through Mia. “I tried to explain things to him, but it was hard when I didn’t even understand it myself.” Which had been mostly true at the time. Suddenly too warm, she unbuttoned her jacket. Nora had the heat cranked despite the heavy sweater she was wearing. “I needed to get away from the corporate games my family was playing.” Her conscience tugged at her. Nora probably wasn’t interested in the business explanation, but it had been a minor piece of the puzzle. “And I
Mia swallowed hard, her heart going out to Nora. She ran down her schedule, wondering when she’d have time to visit, feeling as if she owed it to Brent.
“I can come tomorrow after work—about five thirty. Is that a good time for you?”
“Not today?”
What could Nora have to share that had her so keyed up? Mia didn’t have a good feeling about it, and wanted to find out sooner rather than later. She glanced at her watch. Three hours until the press conference.
“Are you still living at the Broadmoor?” Mia asked.
“Yes. On the eighth floor—802.”
“I’m not too far from there. Give me about fifteen minutes.”
Mia ended the call and gave Claude an imploring look. “We need to make a detour to the Broadmoor, and a stop at the florist on the way.”
…
Mia clutched a bouquet of fresh wildflowers as she stood at Nora’s door. She took a deep breath and knocked. Footsteps sounded on the other side, and Mia braced herself. The door opened with a creak .
Mia expected Nora to look stressed, tired, and grieved. But she wasn’t prepared to see her looking as if she’d aged years during the months Mia had been away. Surely a lot of the damage had been done during the last couple of weeks.
Nora hunched a little, dressed in black slacks that seemed to hang on her gaunt frame, and a loose-knit lavender pullover meant for way cooler weather. The color did nothing to complement the ashen tone of her skin, and her face was drawn with tension. Even so, her short gray hair was carefully styled, and she wore a little lipstick to give herself some color.
Mia’s heart ached for her. No mother should have to lose her child. “I’m so sorry, Nora.” She fought back tears as she embraced Brent’s mom, finding little more than bones to hold on to.
Nora hugged her. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Mia pulled away and they went inside the apartment, where little had changed since Mia had been there last. Nora kept her furnishings updated, and Brent had given her a large flat-screen HD television to watch all her favorites such as HGTV and classic car auctions. Despite the encroaching darkness, the blinds were still open, the deepening shadows of wooded Rock Creek Park shifting in the distance.
“These are for you.” Mia handed Nora the wildflower bouquet. “They seem so inadequate, considering…”
Nora gave her a small smile. “They’re lovely.” She took the flowers and went into the adjacent kitchen, returning with them in a vase. She placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch, next to a decorative brushed-silver urn affixed with an engraved plaque that read Brent Harlan English, Beloved Son.
Brent’s ashes?
Other plants and flower arrangements that people had sent brightened the apartment, but Mia could hardly tear her gaze away from the urn.
“Have a seat,” Nora said. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” Mia sat on the edge of an upholstered chair. “I have to be at a press conference in a little while, so I’m afraid I can’t stay long.”
Nora settled nearby on the couch. The awkwardness of all that had happened hung in the air between them. Mia regretted that the comfortable vibe they used to share was no longer there. But what had she expected? “I don’t know where to start.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation about what happened,” Nora said sincerely. “Although I listened while Brent talked about it over and over.”
A pang of guilt shot through Mia. “I tried to explain things to him, but it was hard when I didn’t even understand it myself.” Which had been mostly true at the time. Suddenly too warm, she unbuttoned her jacket. Nora had the heat cranked despite the heavy sweater she was wearing. “I needed to get away from the corporate games my family was playing.” Her conscience tugged at her. Nora probably wasn’t interested in the business explanation, but it had been a minor piece of the puzzle. “And I