Brass Ring by Diane Chamberlain Read Free Book Online

the light and looked around the room. The mint green walls stretched up to the high cathedral ceiling, the mirror above the teak dresser reflected the painting of soothing green grass and red poppies that hung behind the bed, the water-bed mattress was warm beneath her legs. And slowly, the horses became pale and transparent, featureless. Finally they disappeared, along with the music.
    “Shit!” Vanessa pounded her fist onto the bed. “Where the hell did that come from?” She looked into Brian’s eyes and wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Good old Vanessa, right? She’s losing it again.”
    “Stop it.” He scolded her, then lay back on the mattress, pulling her down next to him.
    She stared at the ceiling. “I thought I was through with that garbage.” There had been other dreams, other nightmares. The one where they took Anna from her, where she searched the streets and knocked on doors and looked in dumpsters trying to find her again— that was the worst. But the carousel was a close second. She hadn’t had that dream in more than a year, not since those miserable days when she was first fighting for the AMC program.
    And now she was starting that fight all over again.
    “It’s not fair for you to have to go through this with me again,” she said.
    “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself, Vanessa.”
    “I would understand if you wanted out. There’s no reason for you to suffer just because I have to.” She was always doing that, giving him permission to leave. Then, if he ever did go, she could tell herself it was her doing, not his.
    “I have a better idea,” he said. “Marry me and let’s have a baby. Then maybe you’ll get it through your thick skull how committed I am to you.”
    She managed to smile at him. “Someday, maybe,” she said. She wanted both those things more than she could express to him, and she had thought she was nearly ready. Weeks, sometimes months went by when she didn’t once think of the possibility of Brian leaving her.
    “Do you want the night-light on?” Brian asked.
    She rolled her eyes. “I guess.”
    She reached low on the wall behind her night table to turn the little switch on the night-light while Brian turned off his lamp. Then she settled next to him, her arm across his chest. With her eyes closed, the night-light bathed her vision in a familiar, comforting deep violet, and she knew the light would keep her safe from the horses and the mirrors, safe from the spinning, reeling world of the merry-go-round.

5

    VIENNA
    CLAIRE AND JON SPENT the morning in Claire’s office at the foundation, counseling a young couple, Lynn and Paul Stanwick. For the most part, the Stanwicks had adjusted well to the injury that had left Paul in a wheelchair, but when it came to the issue of sexuality, their basically solid marriage was creaking under the strain of too much left unsaid.
    “He’s never even mentioned sex since the accident,” Lynn said, “so I figured he’s just lost interest in it.” She looked squarely at her husband from beneath her long, dark bangs. “I don’t think you feel anything for me anymore. Any desire, I mean.”
    Paul groaned and looked up at the ceiling.
    Jon laughed. “Can I speak for you, Paul?”
    Claire knew what Jon was going to say. She could have said it herself, but the words would never have the same impact coming from her.
    Paul nodded his permission, and Jon continued. “I’d be willing to bet that sexual desire is so constant and so intense for you that you can feel it in your toes.”
    “Yes.” Paul looked surprised.
    “You long to express it, but can’t,” Jon said. “You used to know how, but not anymore. Everything’s changed, and nothing’s changed. Your body is completely different, but your needs are entirely the same.”
    Claire saw tears welling up in Paul’s dark eyes, and she was pleased when Lynn reached over to take his hand. They would be all right, these two.
    Of all her tasks at