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

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 they skidded 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.
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 wore 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 close, too. Matt had unofficially taken over most of the ball playing with Gus.
Two hours later the vet came out. It seemed like an eternity before she spoke. Now I knew how my own patients must feel when I hesitate or am at a loss for words. Their faces seem calm but their bodies convey something else. They beg to be relieved of their anxiety with good news, only good news.
“Suzanne, Matt.. . ,” Dr. Pugatch finally said. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Gus didn't make it.”
I began to cry, and my whole body was shaking