“Well, it could be a detached retina,” her mother qualified.
“We need an ambulance right away.” Paige quickly gave the dispatcher the address of her mother’s posh Back Bay condominium. “They’ll be here in five minutes,” she said, crossing to the en suite bathroom and throwing some cold water on her face, then applying deodorant before grabbing the first thing she saw in her closet and pulling it over her head.
“That’s a pretty dress,” her mother said. “Is it new?”
Paige glanced at the shapeless floral sundress that Noah had always despised. She quickly reminded herself that Noah’s likes and dislikes were no longer her concern. “No. I’ve had it a while.” She retrieved a pair of lace panties from the top drawer of her dresser and stepped into them, pulling them up over her slim hips.
“You don’t wear a bra?” her mother asked.
“Well, I don’t really need one,” Paige said, deciding that attempting a normal conversation was her mother’s way of assuring her that everything would be all right, that even if her retina was detaching or, God forbid, she was having a stroke, she would be fine.
Except things weren’t fine. They hadn’t been fine in a while.
“I never used to need one either,” her mother said, almost wistfully. She looked down at her more than ample chest. “And then suddenly, I get these. Now! When nobody’s looking. When nobody cares.”
In other circumstances, Paige might have laughed. Now she could only fight back tears. “Icare.” She sat down beside her mother and hugged her close.
“You’re a good girl.” Her mother leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder. “I love you more than anything in the world. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.” Paige felt a pang of guilt. Not because she didn’t love her mother. She did. It was just that she’d always been more of a daddy’s girl, her father’s outsized personality having tended to overshadow everything in its path, even when he was on his deathbed. “I love you, too.”
“Don’t you worry.” Her mother patted Paige’s knee. “I’ll be okay.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Paige smiled, knowing such promises were futile. Hadn’t her mother made the same promise when her father was first diagnosed with the cancer that would kill him barely a year later?
“Don’t worry. Your father will be fine,” she’d assured both Paige and her brother, although it was doubtful that Michael, older than Paige by almost four years and a successful cardiologist in Livingston, New Jersey, had been as gullible.
Her mother looked toward the bedroom door. “I should at least put on a robe.”
“I’ll get it,” Paige said. “Don’t move.”
“Bring a change of clothes for when they send me home,” her mother called after her as Paige marched toward the master bedroom down the hall. The July sun was already streaming through the automatic blinds in the living room, sending streaks, like bolts of lightning, across the beige marble floor.
Her parents had moved into the two-bedroom condominium five years ago, downsizing from their six-thousand-plus-square-foot home in the suburb of Weston. (“Who needs such a big place anymore?” her mother had asked at the time. “You kids are long gone and the dog is dead.”)
Had her mother always had this sardonic sense of humor? Paige wondered now. Why hadn’t she noticed before?
The condo, located in one of Boston’s most prestigious neighborhoods, was spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows in the living-dining area as well as the library that had doubled as her father’s office and the small family room off the large kitchen. The two bedrooms were located off the main hall in the opposite wing of the apartment. Each room afforded an equally stunning view of the city.
Paige cut across the ivory silk-and-wool carpet that covered the master bedroom floor, slamming her hip against one of the four posters of the king-size bed as she hurried toward the walk-in closet.Well, more a room full of closets,Paige thought, wondering if her father’s clothes still occupied the half that had been his, or if her mother had finally packed them off to Goodwill. Robert Hamilton had been such a natty dresser, whether wearing a suit and tie or more casual attire.And those socks,Paige thought with a smile. Years before it had become fashionable, her father had sported a huge selection of colorful, wildly patterned socks that were a perfect complement to his equally huge and colorful personality.
Tears clouded Paige’s eyes and she brushed them aside. She missed her father so much.
Was she about to lose her mother, too? Was everyone she loved destined to abandon her?
“God, you’re a selfish bitch,” she muttered, retrieving her mother’s blue terry-cloth robe from a hook inside the closet, then selecting a pink cotton dress and some surprisingly racy underwear from the built-in dresser—had her mother always worn bikini panties and push-up bras?—and carrying everything back to her room.
Not that the second bedroom had been meant for her. Originally, it was intended as a guest room, for whenever Michael and his family came to visit. But Michael’s busy schedule had precluded such visits happening often, and his wife had preferred staying in a hotel, so the room had stayed largely empty and unused. But then Paige’s father had died, and six months ago she’d lost her job, and two months after that, her live-in boyfriend had left her for another woman—well, technically,shewas the one who’d had to move out—so Paige’s mother had suggested that she move in with her. “Just temporarily,” she’d stressed. “Until you’re back on your feet again.”
Was that ever going to happen? Paige wondered now, entering the bedroom to find her mother standing beside the window, staring down at the tree-lined street ten stories below. “Mom, what are you doing? I told you to stay still.”
“I’m just admiring the day. There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
“Can you see all right?” Paige asked. “What’s happening with your eyes?”
“Still lots of fireworks. It’s kind of like one of those sound-and-light shows. Only without the sound.” Her lips curled into a weak smile.
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry, darling. That’s the last thing I want to do. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
The phone rang as Paige was helping her mother on with her robe. Paige listened to the concierge’s worried voice, then hung up the phone and took a deep breath before attempting a smile of her own. “The ambulance is here.”