Summer Island

“It isnt. Im dying. ”

Dean felt as if hed been punched in the gut. A cold chill moved through him. “AIDS?” he whispered.

Eric laughed. “We do get other diseases, you know. My personal favorite is cancer. ”

“Well get you the best treatment. I can make some calls right now. Mark Foster is still on the board at-”

“Ive had the best treatments. Ive seen the best specialists, and they,” Eric said softly, “have seen me. ” He took a deep breath. “I dont have much time left. ”

Dean couldnt seem to draw a decent breath. “Youre thirty years old,” he said helplessly, as if age were relevant.

"I should have told you when I was first diagnosed, but . . . I kept thinking Id tell you when it was over, and wed laugh about it .

“Is there any chance well someday laugh about it?”

It took Eric a moment to answer. “No. ”

“What can I do?”

“Im going back to the island. Lotties already there, waiting for me. ”

“The island,” Dean repeated slowly. A strange sense of inevitability drifted into the room. It was as if Dean had always known that someday theyd end up back there, where everything had begun. Where everything had gone so wrong. Maybe a part of him had even been waiting for it.

“Will you come up?”

“Of course. ”

“I want us to be brothers again. ”

“Weve always been brothers,” Dean answered uncomfortably.

“No,” Eric said softly, “weve been members of the same family. We havent been brothers in years. ”

Chapter Three

The scandal broke with gale force. Those humiliating photographs were everywhere, and the newspapers and television stations that didnt own the pictures described them in excruciating detail.

Nora sat huddled in her own living room, refusing to go anywhere. The thought of being seen terrified her.

Her assistant, Dee Langhor; had shown up bright and early in the morning-I came the minute I heard-and Nora had felt pathetically grateful. Now Dee was in Noras home office, fielding phone calls.

With everything on Noras mind, one thing kept rising to the surface; she should have called Caroline the day before, to warn her about the coming media storm.

But how did you tell your child something like this? Oh, honey, and dont mind about the pictures of your naked mother that are front-page news?

In the end, Nora had chosen to handle the impending disaster as she handled all difficult things: shed taken two sleeping pills and turned off her phone.

In the morning, shed had a short respite . . . then shed turned on the television. The story had been picked up by every morning show.

Now she had no choice. She had to call.

She reached for the phone, accessed the second line, and pushed number one on the speed-dial list. Her heart was pounding so hard she couldnt hear the ringing on the other end.

“Hello?”

It took Nora a moment to respond--God, she wanted to hang up the phone. “Caro? Its me. Mom”

There was a pause that seemed to strip away a layer of Noras tender flesh. “Well. Well. I hope youre going to tell me you were kidnapped yesterday and the FBI just freed you from your prison in the back some psycho fans trunk. ”