Молчаливая ночь [with w_cat] - страница 19

[320] “I’ll bring what I can find,” she said hurriedly. “I’m on my way.”

[321] For an instant after she finished delivering the message to the hospital, Barbara Cavanaugh sank into a chair and rested her forehead in her palm. Too much, she thought, too much.

[322] Had there always been a feeling haunting her that everything was too good to be true? Catherine’s father had died when she was ten, and there had always been a lingering touch of sadness in her eyes, until at twenty-two she met Tom. They were so happy together, so perfect together. The way Gene and I were from day one, Barbara thought.

[323] For an instant her mind rushed back to that moment in 1943, when at age nineteen and a sophomore in college, she’d been introduced to a handsome young Army officer, Lieutenant Eugene Cavanaugh. In that first moment they’d both known that they were perfect for each other. They were married two months later, but it was eighteen years before their only child was born.

[324] With Tom, my daughter has found the same kind of relationship with which I was blessed, Barbara thought, but now… She jumped up. She had to get to Catherine. Brian must have just wandered away. They just got separated, she told herself. Catherine was strong, but she must be close to the breaking point by now. Oh, dear God, let someone find him, she prayed.

[325] She rushed through the apartment, yanking framed photographs from mantels and tabletops. She’d moved here from Beekman Place ten years ago. It was still more space than she needed, with a formal dining room, library, and guest suite. But now it meant that when Tom and Catherine and the boys came to visit from their home in Omaha, there was plenty of room for them.

[326] Barbara tossed the pictures into the handsome leather carryall Tom and Catherine had given her for her birthday, grabbed a coat from the foyer closet, and, without bothering to double lock the door, rushed outside in time to press the button for the elevator as it began to descend from the penthouse.

[327] Sam, the elevator operator, was a longtime employee. When he opened the door for her, his smile was replaced by a look of concern. “Good evening, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Merry Christmas. Any further word on Dr. Dornan?”

[328] Afraid to speak, Barbara shook her head.

[329] “Those grandkids of yours are real cute. The little one, Brian, told me you gave his mom something that would make his dad get well. I sure hope that’s true.”

[330] Barbara tried to say, “So do I,” but found that her lips could not form the words.

[331] “Mommy, why are you sad?” Gigi asked as she settled onto Cally’s lap.

[332] “I’m not sad, Gigi,” Cally said. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

[333] Gigi shook her head. She was wearing a red-and-white Christmas nightgown with figures of angels carrying candles. Her wide brown eyes and wavy golden-brown hair were legacies from Frank. The older she gets, the more she looks like him, Cally thought, instinctively holding the child tighter.

[334] They were curled up together on the couch across from the Christmas tree. “I’m glad you’re home with me, Mommy,” Gigi said, and her voice became fearful. “You won’t leave me again, will you?”

[335] “No. I didn’t want to leave you last time, sweetheart.”

[336] “I didn’t like visiting you at that place.”

[337] That place. The Bedford correctional facility for women.

[338] “I didn’t like being there.” Cally tried to sound matter-of-fact.

[339] “Kids should stay with their mothers.”

[340] “Yes. I think so too.”

[341] “Mommy, is that big present for me?” Gigi pointed to the box that held the uniform and coat Jimmy had discarded.

[342] Cally’s lips went dry. “No, sweetheart, that’s a present for Santa Claus. He likes to get something for Christmas, too. Now come on, it’s past your bedtime.”

[343] Gigi automatically began to say, “I don’t want to…,” then she stopped. “Will Christmas come faster if I go to bed now?”

[344] “Uh-huh. Come on, I’ll carry you in.”

[345] When she had tucked the blankets around Gigi and given her her “bee,” the tattered blanket that was her daughter’s indispensable sleeping companion, Cally went back to the living room and once again sank down onto the couch.