The Tulip Eaters. Antoinette van Heugten

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      “Oh, God, Marijke. I’ve been so selfish. How old is she now?”

      “Eighty-five.” Marijke sighed. “I’ll have to go back soon.”

      “Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” No, she thought sadly. I won’t.

      Nora stood and patted Marijke’s shoulder. “Go to bed and get some sleep. We’ll both feel better in the morning.”

      Marijke yawned. “Don’t stay up too long.”

      Nora summoned a smile. “I won’t.” After Marijke said good-night,, Nora paced for an hour, waiting for something. Someone. For Rose. Her wandering was useless, but she couldn’t face her empty bed and the nightmares she knew would come. She sat on the couch, staring at the Sony Walkman that Anneke had given Nora on her birthday, a wildly extravagant gift at two hundred dollars, the first gadget of its kind. Anneke had known how much Nora loved listening to music while she jogged at Memorial Park.

      Nora stood and continued her pacing. As she passed the front window, a dark, official-looking Ford pulled up to the curb. A man got out and strode up the walkway. Nora looked through the peephole and opened the door before he could ring.

      “Lieutenant?” Panic rose in her throat. “Have you found something?”

      Richards shook his head. “Not yet.” He stood awkwardly on the doorstep. “May I come in?”

      “Of course.” She stepped back and led him into the living room, avoiding the thick blue blanket she had spread over the bloody carpet. She couldn’t bear the sight of it.

      When they sat, Nora turned to him. “I’m confused. Why are you here?”

      He gave her a sheepish look. “I thought I’d drop by after you chewed me out this afternoon.”

      Nora felt her color rise. “Oh...that. I was completely out of line.”

      “No, I was thinking like a cop. I can’t imagine what you’re dealing with, even though I’ve seen so many parents go through it.”

      “I owe you an apology.”

      “No, no, I have a daughter, too. I can’t imagine how I would feel if the same thing happened to her.”

      “Where is she now?”

      “With her mother.” He loosened his tie and sighed. “Melissa’s autistic. It’s been a hard road.”

      “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Nora felt terrible as she watched him stare at the floor. “How severe is it?”

      He looked at her with pained eyes. “She’s nonverbal, has been since birth. Now she’s seven and things aren’t much better. She needs round-the-clock care. I couldn’t be there. My schedule.” He shrugged. “My wife couldn’t take it anymore and left.”

      Nora didn’t know what to say. She held up a wineglass. “Red or white?”

      He smiled. “Whatever you’re having.”

      She waited for him to settle back and take a swallow. “I just realized I don’t even know your first name.”

      “Nathan.”

      She nodded. “Well, you didn’t have to come over so late just to apologize.”

      “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay,” he said. “But you’re right, it’s late. If you want me to go—”

      Nora shook her head. “Oddly enough, I don’t. I’m terrified.”

      “I hope you believe me when I say we’re doing everything we can.”

      Nora felt a catch in her throat. “You don’t think you’ll find her, do you?”

      “It’s way too early to think like that.”

      “But how can I think about anything else? No witnesses. A murderer no one can identify. A kidnapper who hasn’t called for a ransom. My baby gone, maybe forever.” Her head fell into her hands.

      She felt his arm around her shoulder. She shook her head and sobbed.

      “Hey, it’s going to be all right.”

      “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” she whispered. “She’s my whole life.”

      “I know. We’ll find her, I promise. You should try to get some sleep.”

      They sipped the rest of their wine in silence and then she stood and walked to the foyer. Richards followed. “I’m going to do everything I can to bring Rose back to you.”

      Nora felt a rush of gratitude. “I know you will. And I want to thank you—for caring.”

      She watched him walk to his car, get in and drive away.

      7

      Nora held a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. She had slept fitfully, alternately waking in a cold panic without knowing why until the terrifying realization washed over her that Rose was really gone, maybe hurt, maybe dead. Interlaced with those terrors were images of her mother, bloody and battered, begging Nora to help her.

      She glanced at the clock, her vision blurred, as if her eyes were filled with sand. Eight o’clock. She sipped the hot coffee gratefully, hoping that it would give her the strength to make it through another day. She looked at Marijke, calmly knitting on the couch.

      The phone rang. Nora went to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

      “Nora? It’s John Bates.”

      Oh, God. The hospital. Her job. “Hi, John.”

      “Nora, how are you? I can’t believe it. Your mother, your daughter—it’s awful.”

      “I know, I know. And I’m sorry, but I just don’t know when I’ll be back. I have five surgeries this week, but—”

      “Don’t worry. I’ve already covered them for you.”

      Relief swept through her. “Thank you, John. I know how shorthanded you are.”

      “I’ve told Personnel you’re on a leave of absence for a while.”

      “I pray I’ll have Rose back soon, but I can’t even think about work now.”

      “It’s a terrible situation.” There was an awkward pause. “You know I’ll give you as much time as I can.”

      “I understand.” Nora closed her eyes. He couldn’t promise to keep her job open. Residencies like the one she had were rare. There were scores of young doctors who would kill to take her place. “John, how long a leave do I have?”

      “I’ve bought you СКАЧАТЬ