Pestilence: A Medical Thriller Read Online Free PDF Page A

and got into the Jeep.
    She sat in the passenger seat and didn’t say anything.
    “Hi to you, too,” Howie said.
    “Hi.”
    Howie pulled away from the curb and thought to himself that this was going to be a long weekend.
     

7
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Howie stayed up as late as he could with his daughter. He tried speaking to her several times, asking about school, but she replied with one-word answers. They simply had nothing in common anymore other than blood.
    Writing her off would have been easy. It should have been easy. But it wasn’t. As he sat on the couch next to her, he looked at her profile and saw himself. On an almost-biochemical level, it seemed, he wanted her approval, and her admiration. But he couldn’t have it, and that ate him up inside. He thought that maybe being a parent was just a means of punishment for the things you did to your parents and that he somehow deserved this for not being a good enough son.
    “I’m gonna hit the sack,” he said at around ten o’clock.
    “Sure,” she said, not taking her eyes off the television.
    As he was heading upstairs, he heard her take out her cell phone and call someone. She spoke a few words softly that Howie couldn’t hear, but he did make out two sentences.
    “ I don’t like it here. I want to come home.”
    The words stung Howie more than he would’ve thought they would. He stood looking at her, and he pictured the young toddler that would run up to him, throw her arms around his neck, and kiss him hard. She would wrap her legs around his chest, and he would pick her up and pretend that she was falling. Then she would laugh her sweet laugh. Those times seemed like someone else’s life.
    He went upstairs and lay down in the dark after opening his balcony doors. A breeze was coming through , and he heard the ocean outside. A slit of moon hung in the black sky. He picked up his phone and texted Brandi.
    How is it?
    Everyone’s pretentious and hitting on me. How’s your daughter?
    She hates me. I’ll take the pretention any day.
    Why don’t you bring her down here?
    Maybe another time.
    Suit yourself. Can’t wait for our trip. Bought something new ;)
    That’s—
    Howie’s phone suddenly stopped working and he couldn’t send the text. He chalked it up to just one of those things that happens when technology is involved.
    He reread her last text and grinned to himself. Then he placed the phone on the nightstand before taking in a deep breath and trying to relax enough to drift off to sleep. His eyes darted open, and he got up, got dressed, and went downstairs.
    “Jessica, we’re going somewhere.”
    “Where?”
    “It’s an art showing. You’ll love it. Come on.”
    “Can’t I just stay here?”
    “No, come on, get on your shoes . Let’s go.”
    Once they were out the door, Howie chose the convertible, thinking Jessica might enjoy the warm night air. Instead, she folded her arms and ducked low so that it didn’t touch her.
    “How’s David?” he asked after several minutes of silence.
    “Good.”
    “He treat you guys well?”
    “Yeah. He takes us everywhere.”
    “Like where?”
    “To the movies and to Angels games, surfing.”
    “He seems like a good guy.”
    “He is.”
    They arrived at the gallery on the edge of Malibu next to the P acific Coast Highway, and he couldn’t find parking, so they had to park at a restaurant. Walking back to the gallery, Howie tried to hold her hand to cross the street, but she didn’t take it. He had forgotten that she was old enough to cross the street on her own.
    The gallery was impressively decorated with garlands , and the dim lighting made nearly everyone appear more pleasing to the eye than they were. At least fifty people were perusing the artwork, the majority of which were photographs of things found on the street. At the entrance, a video of a subway car in New York was playing.
    “What are we doing here?” she asked.
    “I want you to meet someone.”
    Rounding a corner, Howie