Angel of Mercy by Andrew Neiderman Read Free Book Online

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    The furniture was all Southwestern, with a lot of pinks and blues in the carpets, wall hangings, and linens. Indian art and replicas of Remingtons were exhibited in almost every one of the seven rooms.
    There were skylights and large windows that provided natural light during the long desert days and great views of the valley and sky during the nights. Many of the features, such as the remote-controlled ground lights and the pool lights, filter, and jacuzzi blower, were state-of-the-art and were features Tommy Livingston had put into all the homes he had designed.
    A crowd of about two dozen friends and relatives had returned to the house. The daughters-in-law were busy commanding the temporary servants and setting up the food and drink. The sons held court in the den, talking softly to their own friends. The children were relegated to the rear and told to stay out of everyone’s way.
    Faye wandered through, gazing at everything with interest, for the lives of her patients, more often than not, fascinated her, especially the patients who seemed to have had good marriages, people who really appeared to be in love. Despite what Susie thought, Faye believed love was a fairy tale.
    Anyway, she often tried to imagine what their homes and their lives outside of the hospital were like, and Susie was always grilling her with questions when she returned from the hospital. Some patients did tell her things, even rather personal things about their families.
    More mothers than she cared to mention complained about their children or the women and men their children had married. Some wives complained about their husbands. On the whole, she found her female patients more open about their lives and families than the male patients.
    Faye wandered into Tommy Livingston’s office and gazed at the pictures of his family on his desk. Sylvia Livingston had been a very pretty woman, just like her own mother, Faye thought. She had the same sort of half smile, tantalizing, and didn’t she have the same color hair about the same length? Hadn’t her parents taken a similar picture on a stairway? Why was everything so foggy now, all her memories intermingling with the things she now saw? It made her dizzy for a moment and she leaned against the wall.
    She was so far to the right, in fact, that Tommy Livingston didn’t see her when he first came in and went to his desk. He took the wedding picture in his hands and stared down at it. Then his shoulders began to shake.
    She wanted to slip away so she wouldn’t embarrass him, but he turned around and saw her before she could leave.
    “Oh,” he said sucking in his breath. “I…”
    “It’s all right, Mr. Livingston. It’s okay to have a good cry.
    Keeping it pent up only makes it worse,” she said. He nodded.
    “Yes.” He looked toward the doorway.
    “You don’t want to cry in front of your boys or your grandchildren, I know,” Faye said dryly. “No, I don’t,” he admitted.
    As if she were back in the hospital and in control of things, she went to the den door and closed it. “I know you want to get away from people for a while,” she said. “Come, sit down.” She nodded toward the leather settee and he followed obediently. He sat with his hands in his lap and stared at the floor.
    “Do you want something to drink … a glass of water?” He shook his head.
    “It’s nice of you to still be interested in us,” Tommy said.
    “My sister is always bawling me out for treating people like numbers.
    Most nurses I know do.” He started to smile skeptically.
    “No, it’s true. Why, I know some nurses who’ve walked past their former patients in department stores, not recognizing them anymore. I’m not that bad, but I do try to remain detached, especially when I know I have a critical case.”
    “I can understand that. I can’t imagine going through this more than once,” he said, nodding.
    “We do what we must do,” she replied. Then she looked toward the desk and the