The phone rang.

She dove across the bed and grabbed the receiver

. "H-Hello?"

"Mom?" Kelly's small, quiet voice slid through the telephone wires.

Lainie swallowed hard. Tears welled in her throat, stung her eyes. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to let them fall. "Hi, baby," she breathed, hating the trembling sound of her voice.

"It's raining here in Montana, and I figured it was probably worse at home. I thought ... you know, I was worried about you."

Lainie squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Thank you, God; thank you for giving me this child. "Nothing to worry about, sweet pea. I'm fine. More importantly, how are you?"

A sigh of relief moved through the phone. "I'm great, Mom. This is a totally cool place. Tomorrow we're heading out. Mr. Hade?he's the trail guide?has provisions tied to trees at certain places. We've got compasses to find the food. Then we set up tents, cook the food, and go to sleep. So I won't be able to call again till we make it back down the trail."

The words caught Lainie off guard. "Oh." She knew it wasn't the right thing to say, knew she should say more, but the words were lodged in her throat, held in place by fear and a parent's desperation.

"Is that okay?" Kelly's voice had gone quiet again, hesitant.

Lainie cursed her own neuroses. "It's fine, baby. Hey, they don't call it survival training for nothing."

Kelly laughed, a high, pure, clear sound that washed through Lainie like an elixir. "Yeah, Mom."

"I ... I miss you, baby."

"I miss you, too."

"I'll talk to you when you get back. When will that be ... ten days?"

"Twelve. And, Mom?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

Lainie thought about the cigarettes, which she never smoked when Kelly was home, and the Jack Daniel's she'd downed a few minutes ago. She winced, feeling the sting of shame and regret. She wanted to say, I'll try. It was all she could realistically promise, all she could hope for. But it wasn't enough for a bighearted thirteen-year-old. Kelly didn't deserve to worry about her schizoid mother all the time.

"I will, Kel. Don't you worry about me, okay? You and Jennifer just have fun."

" 'Bye, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Click. The connection went dead. Lainie listened to

9

the droning buzz of the empty line for a few minutes, then slowly put the receiver back in its cradle.

She squeezed her eyes shut, felt the familiar sting of tears.

She'd known how it would feel to let Kelly go to camp, of course, known the wrenching sense of loss that would descend, known, too, that she had to say yes.

But knowing that didn't stop the hurt. She reached blindly for the bottle of sleeping pills beside her bed. She needed the oblivion, needed not to think about this for a while. If she thought about it anymore, she was going to start crying. And if she started, she might never stop.

Kelly, I miss you, baby. I miss you so much. ...

Flipping open the cap, she poured a couple?more than a couple??capsules into her palm and downed them with the glass of cloudy, tepid water on her bedside table.

Tags: Kristin Hannah Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net