The Obsession

“Don’t go back.” He laid a hand over hers, felt hers stiffen. “Get stronger. Take a few weeks, then see. Talk to the therapist about it.”

“I’ll try. I swear. I’m so grateful to you and Harry. I’m so sorry I did what Tom told me, after all you’ve done for us.”

“We’ll get through it.”

“I’m going to go up, talk to the kids for a minute. Then we’ll come down, finish making dinner.”

“That’s a good start. I love you, Suze.”

“God knows you must.” She rose, reached for him. “I love you. Don’t give up on me.”

“Never happen.”

She gave him a hard squeeze, then walked out, walked up the stairs. The hardest walk of her life, she thought. Even harder than that horrible walk through the prison to the visiting area.

She stepped to Naomi’s door and looked at her children, sitting on the floor with Mason frowning over his pencil and worksheet.

He’d been crying, and that broke her heart because she’d brought those tears on.

But not Naomi. Her eyes were dry and hot when they lifted, met hers.

“I want to say first I was wrong. What I said down there about your uncle and Harry. It was a wrong and ugly thing to say. I hope you’ll forgive me. And I want to say you were right. Both of you were right. We won’t be moving away from Seth and Harry. I was wrong about talking to those people. The paper, and the magazine, and the book writer. I can’t go back and not do it, but I’ll never do it again. I’m so sorry, Naomi, for letting them have your picture. I don’t know how to make it up to you. But I’m going to try to do better. I promise, I’m going to try. It’s easy to say that. What I have to do is show you. You need to give me a chance to show you I’ll do better.”

“I’ll give you a chance, Mama.” Mason sprang up, ran into her arms.

“I love you so much, my little man.” She kissed the top of his head, then looked at Naomi. “I understand it’s going to take longer for you.”

Naomi only shook her head and ran to her mother.



She did better, though there were dips, and some of them deep. She’d opened a door her brother had tried to close by giving the interviews, selling the photographs.

It engendered more, with side stories on the serial killer’s gay brother-in-law, and with reporters stalking him to and from his office. Paparazzi captured photos of Naomi leaving school for the day, one of Mason on the playground.

TV talk shows fueled the machine with discussion, with “experts,” and the tabloids were relentless.

Word leaked that Pulitzer Prize–winning author Simon Vance had a book deal in cooperation with Thomas David Bowes and his wife, and the media circus began anew.

As the new year began they all sat together in the front parlor, with a fire snapping, and the glittering holiday tree shining like hope in the window.

Harry made hot chocolate, and Mason sat on the floor with his fondest wish: a puppy that had greeted him on Christmas morning. He’d named the pup Kong after his favorite game.

It should have felt good, Naomi thought. The puppy, the hot chocolate, and the tree Harry said would stay up until Twelfth Night.

But something was wrong, and she felt it deep inside. So her chocolate sat, going cold in the tall mug.

“Harry and I have some news,” Seth began, and Naomi’s stomach knotted.

They’d be sent away. Too much trouble, all the reporters, and the people who walked or drove by to stare.

Someone had egged the house on Halloween, and worse, written on Seth’s car:

KILLER’S FAG KIN

Mama lost her job at the café because they found out where she worked, and the manager let her go.

“It’s big news,” he continued, taking Harry’s hand.

Naomi couldn’t look up, couldn’t stand to see his face when he said they had to live somewhere else.

“Harry and I are opening a restaurant.”

She looked up then, stunned. Felt the knots begin to uncoil.

“We found a great space, and figured it was time to have our own.” Harry winked. “We’ve even got the name. The Spot.”

“Spot’s a dog,” Mason said, and wrestled with the deliriously happy puppy.

“Not this spot. It’s The Spot because that’s just what it’s going to be. The spot everyone wants to go.”

“Where is it?” As delirious as the puppy, Naomi picked up her chocolate. “Can we go see it?”

“You bet. The thing is, it’s in New York.”

“You’re moving away.”

“We’re all moving. To New York City. The West Village. New place, new house, new start.”

Naomi looked at her mother, who only sat with her fingers twisted together.

“But you have this house. This is your house.”

“The one in New York will be our house. All of us.” Still smiling, Seth patted Harry’s leg. “Wait until you see it. It’s fabulous.”

“You’re moving because of us. Because of the people who won’t leave us alone.”

Before Seth could speak, Harry shook his head. “That’s not altogether wrong, not altogether right. I’ve wanted my own restaurant for a long time, and this feels like the right time, the right place. The fact is, it’s been hard for Seth to work while being bothered, and we both feel the house here? It’s closed in now.”

“We’ve talked it all out, Harry, me, your mama. This is best for all of us. If you don’t object to it, we’ll have your names changed legally to Carson. I’ve given my notice at work, and so has Harry. I’m not pretending when I say I’m pretty excited about this. I know you’ll have to change schools again.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Naomi sent Mason a sharp look in case he said different.

“And therapists,” Seth continued, “but we have good recommendations there.”

“I don’t need to go anymore. I don’t,” Naomi insisted. “I’d say if I did. If this is a new place and all that, I can be new, too. I want to cut my hair.”

“Oh, Naomi,” Susan said.

“I want to. I don’t want to look like the girl they’ve been taking pictures of. I can do it myself.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Seth gave his good laugh. “I draw that line. We’ll take you to the salon, and get it done right. She’s heading toward thirteen, Suze. It should be up to her.”

“They can still find us. But maybe they won’t if I don’t look the same. Mason already looks some different than he did, ’cause he’s bigger and his hair’s longer now. And it’s darker than it was. I don’t care what my name is, as long as it’s not Bowes. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, Mama.”

Susan said nothing, only continued to stare down at her hands, fingers twisting in her lap.

“Can Kong go to New York? I can’t leave him.”

“Mason, my man.” Harry snatched the puppy up from where it waggled. “This here is one urban-canine-to-be. Of course he’s going.”

“I know this is uprooting everyone, and it’s my doing.”

“No, Susie. I think they would have run us to ground sooner or later anyway. We didn’t take enough precautions. Now we will. New place, new start.” Seth grinned at Naomi. “New look.”

“When?” Naomi asked.

“The house goes on the market tomorrow, and the agent is champing at the bit. One way or the other, we move over your spring break. It’s a four-bedroom, so, Mason, you’ll have your own room. How about that?”

“Me and Kong!”

“You and Kong.”

“Can we have bunk beds?”

“Bunk beds it is. Naomi? You okay with this?”

“I’m fine with it. You can have friends over again. You’ll have to make some new ones, but you can have parties again. You couldn’t have your annual Christmas party this year or go out on New Year’s like you always do.”

Harry gave the wiggling dog to Seth. “Do you hear everything?”

“Mostly, I do. And Mama won’t go to the prison from New York. I know you’ve only been a few times since . . . since you signed those papers, but when you did you came back sad. New York’s farther away. The farther away, the better.”

“I’m trying, Naomi.”

“Mama, you’re doing so much better. Just like you said.” Out of love, and out of duty, Naomi got up to squeeze into the chair with her mother, wrapped around her. “This will be even better. I just know it.”

“New York, here we come?” Seth said.

previous 1.. 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 ..96 next

Nora Roberts's books