An Act of Love by Nancy Thayer Read Free Book Online

flinched. He looked stricken, his face at odds with the helplessly cheerful gleam of his uncontrollable curly red hair and the sparkle of sweat in the curly hairs on his arms. “Sucks.”
    Linda asked, “Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”
    Bruce shook his head. “I don’t see much of her. I mean, all our classes are different. Her dorm’s across campus from mine.”
    “Have you heard anything? Could you ask around? She won’t talk to us at all.”
    “Man, she must be sick if she’s not talking.” The words burst from his mouth before he stopped to think. Grimacing, he quickly added, “Sorry.”
    “No,” Linda told him. “You’re right.”
    They walked toward Bates Hall, passing beneath the shadows of great-limbed copper beeches and extravagant maples and oaks. Several students, enclosed by headphones in worlds of their own, jogged past. A golden lab lumbered along beside oneof the students and by the entrance to the dorm another dog lay blissed out in the late afternoon sun. From one direction came the throb of rock music, from another, a capella singing.
    They entered Bates Hall through massive oak doors. Hedden had once been an all-male school, a stronghold for the elite, and the architecture reflected that. From the large foyer, wide stairs wound upward toward a landing baroquely radiant with stained-glass windows. The newel post was a carved and beaded shining gloss of mahogany. Oblivious to such elegance, Hedden boys rushed past the McFarlands, up the stairs to change from sports and prepare for dinner, nodding or mumbling greetings as they passed Bruce.
    “Uh, you want to come up to my room?” Bruce asked. “It’s kind of a mess.”
    “No thanks,” Owen replied. “We’re going to spend the night in Basingstoke. We’d better get over to the Academy Inn and get a room. Want to go out to dinner with us?”
    “Well …” Bruce hesitated. His neck turned pink. “Could I bring a friend?”
    Owen began, “I don’t think this is the appropriate—”
    Linda intervened. “Sure. As long as you don’t mind that your friend knows about Emily.”
    “Everyone knows about Emily by now,” Bruce said with blunt honesty. “It’s just the way it is here.”
    “Linda and I will check into the hotel and get organized and come back for you in, how about an hour?”
    “Great,” Bruce said. “See you then. Oh, uh, Dad—I know this is the wrong time to ask about this, but did you bring my clothes for New York?”
    “We didn’t even think about it,” Owen told him. “I’ll go back to the farm tomorrow and get them to you sometime in the morning. Will that be okay?”
    “Sure. Thanks.”
    “What time do you leave on Wednesday?” Linda asked.
    “Vacation starts at noon sharp. Whit’s parents are springing for a limo to the airport,” he added, unable to check a grin.
    “ Very nice,” Linda told him.
    Just then a tall, exotically handsome boy entered, clad in tennis whites, carrying a racket. His glossy black hair was held back at the neck in a ponytail, accentuating hisolive skin and dramatic cheekbones.
    “Hey,” he said to Bruce.
    “Hey, Jorge,” Bruce replied, all at once looking gawky and innocent, a boy in the presence of this man.
    The man’s name set off a warning bell in Linda’s mind: Jorge. Cordelia had said Emily liked someone named Jorge.
    The man took the steps two at a time. When he was out of earshot, Linda asked, sotto voce, “Who was that ?”
    “Jorge Avila.”
    “Good Lord. Bruce, I think Emily had a crush on him.”
    Bruce shrugged. “Every girl here has a crush on Jorge.”
    “So we’ll pick you up in an hour?” Owen asked.
    “Great.” Bruce looked up the stairs, half turning to go, then looked at his father and asked, “How long will Emily be at the hospital?”
    “We’re not sure.”
    “Can I visit her? Would it, uh, help?”
    Tears sprang into Linda’s eyes. “Oh, Bruce. Thanks for offering. I don’t know what will help Emily. But