Read Online Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas by James Patterson - Free Book Online

sometimes.”
    Melanie suddenly gave me hug. “God, Suzanne, this is it! As IT as it can get. Congratulations, you’re
gone for good.
”
    We laughed like a couple of giddy fifteen-year-olds, and headed back with Melanie’s kids and Gus. That morning at her house,
     we talked non-stop about everything from first dates to first pregnancies. Melanie confessed that she was thinking of having
     a fifth baby, which blew me away. For her it was as easy as organizing a cabinet. She had her life as under control as a grocery
     shelf lined neatly with canned goods. Orderly, alphabetized, well stocked.
    I also fantasized about having kids that morning, Nicholas. I knew I would have a high-risk pregnancy because of my heart
     condition, but I didn’t care. Maybe there was something in me that knew you’d be here one day. A flutter of hope. A deep desire.
     Or just the sheer inevitability of what love between two people can bring.
    You—it brought you.
     
    Bad stuff happens, Nicholas. Sometimes it makes no sense at all. Sometimes it’s unfair. Sometimes it just plain sucks.
    The red pickup came tearing around the corner, going close to sixty, but the whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion.
    Gus was crossing the street, heading toward the beach, where he likes to race the surf and bark at seagulls. Bad timing.
    I saw the whole thing. I opened my mouth to stop him, but it was probably already too late.
    The pickup swung around the blind curve like a blur. I could almost smell the rubber of the tires as it skid along the hot
     tar, then I watched as the left front fender caught Gus.
    A second more, and he would have cleared that unforgiving metal fender.
    Five miles an hour slower, and the pickup would have missed him.
    Or maybe if Gus had been a couple of years younger, closer to his prime, it wouldn’t have happened.
    The timing was nightmarish, irrevocable, like a rock falling on the windshield of a passing car.
    It was over, done, and Gus lay like a rag discarded by the side of the road. It was so sad. He’d been so defenseless, so carefree
     just seconds before as he romped toward the water.
    “No!” I yelled. The truck had stopped, and two stubble-faced men in their twenties got out. They both word colorful bandannas
     on their heads. They stared at what their speeding vehicle had done.
    “Gee, I’m sorry, I didn’t see him,” the driver stammered, and hitched at his blue jeans as he looked at poor Gus.
    I didn’t have time to think, to argue, to yell at him. The only thing I needed to do was to get Gus help.
    I threw the driver my keys. “Open the back of my Jeep,” I snapped as I gently lifted Gus up into my arms. He was limp and
     heavy, but still breathing, still
Gus.
    I laid him in the back of the Jeep, bloody and tenuous. His sweet, familiar eyes were as far away as the clouds. Then he focused
     on me. Gus whimpered pitifully, and my heart broke into a hundred pieces.
    “Don’t die, Gus,” I whispered. “Hold on, boy,” I said as I pulled out of my driveway. “Please don’t leave me.”
    I called Matt on my cell phone, and he met me at the vet’s. Dr. Pugatch took Gus in at once, maybe because she saw the look
     of desperation on my face.
    “The truck was going way too fast, Matt,” I told him. I was reliving the scene again, and I could see every detail. Matt was
     even angrier than me.
    “It’s that damn curve. Every time you pull out, I worry about it. I need to lay you a new driveway on the other side of the
     house. That way you’ll be able to see the road.”
    “This is so horrible. Gus was right there when I —” I stopped myself. I still hadn’t told Matt about my heart attack. Gus
     knew, but Matt didn’t. I had to tell him soon.
    “Shhhh, it’s okay, Suzanne. It’s going to be okay.” Matt held me, and though it wasn’t okay, it was as good as it could possibly
     be. I burrowed into his chest and stayed there. Then I could feel Matt shaking a little. He and Gus had become