The Secret Between Us Read Online Free PDF

swallowed. “What I just told Aunt Jill. That it was a horrible storm, and that the car was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    “I’ll flunk the bio test if I take it today. There’s
another
AP section I shouldn’t be in.”
    “You won’t flunk the test. You’re pre-med, and you’re acing bio.”
    “How can I take a test when I barely slept?” “You know the material. Besides, once you’re in college, you’ll be taking tests on next to no sleep all the time. Think of this as practice. It’ll build character.”
    “Yeah, well, if character’s the thing, shouldn’t I go with you to file the police report?”
    Deborah felt a flash of pride, followed by a quick pang of conscience. Both turned to fear when she thought of the possible fallout if she let Grace take the blame. The repercussions wouldn’t be productive at all.
    Very slowly, she shook her head, then held her daughter’s gaze for a moment before drawing her out of bed.
             
    As always, it
hit Deborah in the shower—the second-guessing about what she was doing. Between diagnosing dozens of patients each week, helping her father run his household without Ruth, being a single mother and having to make sensitive decisions like the one she had just made, she was often on the hot seat. Now she stood with her head bowed, hot water hitting her back with the sting of too many choices, until she was close to tears.
    Feeling profoundly alone, she turned the water off and quickly dressed. The clothes she wore for work were tailored, fitting her slim frame well and restoring a sense of professionalism. Makeup added color to her pale skin and softened the worry in brown eyes that were wide-set, the adult version of Grace’s. But when she tried to fasten her hair in a clasp so that it would be neat and tidy as her life was not, it fought her. Shy of shoulder length, the dark waves had a mind of their own. Accepting that there was no going back to her orderly life, she let them curl as they would and turned her back on the mirror.
    Mercifully, the rain had stopped. Sun was beginning to break through the clouds, scattering gold on trees whose still-wet limbs were just beginning to bud. Grateful for a brighter day, she went down to the kitchen, set out cereal for the kids, then phoned the hospital. Calvin McKenna was in recovery, soon to be moved to a room. He hadn’t talked yet, but he was listed in stable condition.
    Reassured, she skimmed her Post-its on the fridge:
pay property tax—Dylan dentist at 4—tennis camp deposit
. Then she logged on to her e-mail and phoned the answering service. Had there been an emergency, she would have been called. The messages she received now—the flare-up of a chronic ear infection, a stubborn migraine headache, a severe case of heartburn—were from patients the receptionist would schedule when she arrived at eight. Her nurse-practitioner would examine the earliest to arrive.
    Deborah was usually at her office by eight-fifteen, after seeing the kids off to school, stopping to have coffee with Jill, and checking on her father. He was booked to see his first patient at eight-thirty. These days, it was Deborah’s job to make sure that he did.
    Her sister, Jill, though perennially at odds with the man, respected that. She appeared at the house this morning at seven-thirty on the nose. Having come from work, she wore jeans and a T-shirt. The T-shirt, always either red, orange, or yellow to match the bakery’s colors, was red today, and her boy-short blonde hair was rumpled from whipping off her apron. She had their mother’s bright, hazel eyes and the shadow of childhood freckles, but the fine lines of her chin mirrored Deborah’s.
    As soon as Grace and Dylan were in the backseat, she passed them each bags with their favorite pastries inside. She had a bag for Deborah, too, and a hot coffee in the cup holder.
    Picking up the coffee, Deborah cradled it in her hands and inhaled the comforting brew.