Just Like Heaven Read Free

still amazed him.
    Her mother used to say that God had been feeling generous the day he made Suzanne. He had granted her beauty and wit, intelligence and a kind heart, a sense of humor that could still make Mark smile across the years.
    But the one thing God hadn’t seen fit to grant her was the one thing that would have made all the difference: a long life.
    When she looked at him, she saw a hero. The kind of man his father had been, the kind of man he wanted to be. But time hadn’t been on their side. She had been taken from him while he was still very much a work in progress.
    At least Suzanne never saw him stumble and fall. She never saw him flat on his face on their front porch, stinking of cheap whiskey and pain. She hadn’t been there to see him try to outrun the memories of their past. The lost days, those dark nights, belonged to him alone, and for that he was glad.
    She never found out her hero was only a man.

Coburn, New Jersey—around 10:30 a.m.
    Kate was stopped in traffic near the Bedminster exit on Route 287 when a wave of something uncomfortably close to nausea swept over her. Jet lag on an empty stomach was bad enough, but for sheer misery she would put her money on the thong.
    Traffic eased up as she neared Bridgewater Commons Mall, but the cell phone calls kept coming. Her assistant, Sonia, called twice. Clive phoned from England to tell her she had left a pair of sunglasses behind. Armitage’s secretary wanted to make sure she was on schedule. Jackie the furniture refinisher had another one of her minor emergencies designed to boost her going rate another ten percent.
    They all called for different reasons, but every call ended the same way. You sound exhausted . . . You need a vacation, not a buying trip . . . I’m worried about you . . .
    Bless call waiting, the greatest exit strategy ever invented. What was wrong with everyone? Sure, she had noticed the dark circles under her eyes, but that was genetic. Maeve had them and Maeve’s mother before her. And unless she missed her guess, Gwynn had something to look forward to. Kate wasn’t twenty any longer. Not even Estée Lauder could turn back the clock.
    She shifted around in the driver’s seat, tugging at the elastic band pinching her hip bone. Her mother had promised her that the thong would release her inner goddess and turn her into a siren capable of luring men away from ESPN and repeats of Baywatch , but so far her inner goddess was missing in action.
    Her cell burst into the William Tell Overture as she neared the Route 1 exit. Her mother’s theme song.
    “What did you say to Gwynn? She called me, sobbing.”
    “Hello to you too, Mom. I thought you were in New Mexico.”
    “I am and our girl woke me up with her tale of woe. What is going on back there?” Maeve was on the other side of the country, touring for her latest self-help tome, but family drama transcended geography.
    “It was Gwynn being Gwynn,” Kate said. “She wanted to talk, I needed to finish dressing and get on the road.”
    “You hurt her feelings. She had some news she wanted to share with you.”
    “I cut her short once in twenty-three years and it’s a major incident?” She took a series of deep breaths and tried to calm herself. “I haven’t slept in almost thirty-six hours, Maeve, and my body thinks it’s the middle of the afternoon.”
    “You don’t sound like yourself,” Maeve observed. “What’s going on, sweetie? We’re worried about you.”
    “Is Mercury in retrograde again or something? There’s nothing wrong with me that a good night’s sleep won’t take care of. Why is everyone suddenly asking if I’m okay?” Jet lag was hardly a new concept.
    “Maybe because it’s clear you’re not yourself. You’ve seemed a little depressed, forgetful—”
    “Ma!” Kate practically shouted into the tiny cell phone. “I think your imagination is running away with you.”
    “You might be entering perimenopause,” Maeve volunteered.
    The