Once More With Feeling by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

by her mother’s illness, and she would not make a public display of herself.
    â€œI don’t want you to be shocked by your mother’s appearance.” They stepped into the elevator together, and he kept his hand on her arm. “She had made a great deal of progress during her last stay here, but she left prematurely, as you know. Over the past three months, her condition has . . . deteriorated.”
    â€œPlease,” Raven said wearily, “don’t be delicate. I know where she was found and how. You’ll dry her out again, and in a couple of months she’ll leave and it’ll start all over. It never changes.”
    â€œAlcoholics fight a continuing battle.”
    â€œDon’t tell me about alcoholics,” she shot back. The reserve cracked, and the emotion poured through. “Don’t preach to me about battles.” She stopped herself, then, shaking her head, pressed her fingers to the concentrated source of her headache. “I know all about alcoholics,” she said more calmly. “I haven’t your dedication or your optimism.”
    â€œYou keep bringing her back,” he reminded Raven softly.
    â€œShe’s my mother.” The elevator doors slid open, and Raven walked through them.
    Her skin grew colder as they moved down the hallway. There were doors on either side, but she refused to think of the people beyond them. The hospital flavor was stronger here. Raven thought she could smell the antiseptic, the hovering medicinal odor that always made a hint of nausea roll in her stomach. When Karter stopped in front of a door and reached for a knob, Raven laid a hand on top of his.
    â€œI’ll see her alone, please.”
    He sensed her rigid control. Her eyes were calm, but he had seen the quick flash of panic in them. Her fingers didn’t tremble on his hand but were stiff and icy. “All right. But only a few minutes. There are complications we need to discuss.” He took his hand from the knob. “I’ll wait for you here.”
    Raven nodded and twisted the knob herself. She took a moment, struggling to gather every ounce of strength, then walked inside.
    The woman lay in a hospital bed on good linen sheets, dozing lightly. There was a tube feeding liquid into her through a needle in her arm. The drapes were drawn, and the room was in shadows. It was a comfortable room painted in soft blue with an ivory carpet and a few good paintings. With her fingers digging into the leather bag she carried, Raven approached the bed.
    Raven’s first thought was that her mother had lost weight. There were hollows in her cheeks, and her skin had the familiar unhealthy yellow cast. Her dark hair was cropped short and streaked liberally with gray. It had been lovely hair, Raven remembered, glossy and full. Her face was gaunt, with deathly circles under the eyes and a mouth that seemed dry and pulled in. The helplessness stabbed at Raven, and for a minute she closed her eyes against it. She let them fall while she looked down on the sleeping woman. Without a sound, without moving, the woman in bed opened her eyes. They were dark and gray like her daughter’s.
    â€œMama.” Raven let the tears roll freely. “Why?”
    ***
    By the time Raven got to her front door, she was exhausted. She wanted bed and oblivion. The headache was still with her, but the pain had turned into a dull, sickening throb. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back on it, trying to summon the strength to walk up the stairs.
    â€œRaven?”
    She opened her eyes and watched Julie come down the hall toward her. Seeing Raven so pale and beaten, Julie slipped an arm around her shoulders. Her concern took the form of a scolding. “You should have let me go with you. I should never have let you go alone.” She was already guiding Raven up the stairs.
    â€œMy mother, my problem,” Raven said tiredly.
    â€œThat’s the only selfish part of