Caller ID showed it was Jonathan.
She sat up against the pillows and answered, disappointed this wasn’t the break in Ethan’s ordeal but comforted to hear her fiancé’s gentle voice.
“Am I catching you at a bad time?” he asked. “Are you with the FBI agent?”
“No, I’m in my bedroom.”
“Oh, gee. You’re resting. I should have waited for you to call me, but I’ve been very anxious about you, darling.”
“I’m glad you called.”
“Any news?”
“No. Nothing yet.” She blinked away the fuzziness in her brain. “How’s the vetting going?”
“It’s going, but I can hardly think about that right now.”
“You have to, Jonathan. I know how much the nomination means to you.”
“It doesn’t mean as much to me as you do. Say the word and I’ll fly home. I can’t stand being here in DC while you’re going through this alone.”
“You’re an angel, but Aubrey’s here. I’ll be okay. I don’t want you turning your world upside down for me.”
She could hear him breathing, as though he were weighing what he was about to say next. “You are my world, Diana. We don’t need to wait until we’re married to lean on each other.”
Her eyes filled with tears. This was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted him to come back. She needed to be strong on her own. But she was also concerned about dragging him into the national spotlight when he was already being scrutinized. The FBI agent had been curious about Jonathan and even suggested there could be some connection between his possible nomination and Ethan’s disappearance.
If the press picked up on that, it wouldn’t do anyone any good.
“I love you, Jonathan. So very much. But if you come to Miami, I’m afraid it will turn Ethan’s disappearance into a national media event. Everyone will wonder whether they want a Supreme Court justice with so much personal drama in his life. First, his fiancée is accused of being responsible for a child’s death out of negligence, then she loses her own grandson.”
“You know I would never put my career ahead of my family.”
“That’s the point. You won’t put yourself first, which is why I need to protect you right now. You deserve to be on the Supreme Court. The country needs people like you. I won’t allow you to jeopardize that.”
He released a sigh.
“I’m holding up for now, but if that changes, I’ll call you. I promise.”
“I don’t like it, but I’ll do as you ask,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, my darling.”
She ended the call but held the phone against her chest. Jonathan had become her rock. They had met two years before, introduced at a Columbia University alumni event by the attorney who’d been handling her malpractice lawsuit. The eminent Judge Jonathan Woodward had recently moved back to Miami, his birthplace, after his appointment as circuit-court judge for the Eleventh District. They’d begun dating shortly thereafter, and then more seriously a few months ago, once the malpractice trial was over.
Jonathan had been supportive throughout, especially when her medical partners had hinted that she should consider retiring. A number of patients had lost confidence in their practice and had moved to other pediatricians. Jonathan had helped her through her initial anger and to the realization that the patients weren’t the only ones who’d lost confidence. She had begun second-guessing many of her own diagnoses, to the point where she was barely functional. Leaving the practice three months ago had probably been the best thing for her as well.
The weight of her phone pressed against her heart. She’d fallen in love with him unexpectedly. She’d gotten the flu and could barely get out of bed. He had stayed with her against her protests, holding her hair back when she vomited into the toilet, cuddling against her when she shook with chills, feeding her spoonfuls of soup he’d made from a package.
Call him back. Tell him you need him. Don’t let your pride keep you from seeking comfort.
She picked up the phone, her finger poised to call him.
“Mama,” said the voice in the doorway. “Oh, Mama.”
Diana dropped the phone, sprang out of bed, and rushed to her daughter. She squeezed Aubrey with all her might. She could smell her daughter’s spicy scent, barely masking twenty-four hours of airports and travel.
Through all Diana’s ups and downs, her battles with vertigo and taunting demons, Aubrey, unlike her father and brother, had never deserted her.
Reluctantly, Diana released her grip and took a step back to examine her. “Oh, my poor sweetheart. You’re exhausted.” She pushed a strand of hair away from Aubrey’s pale face. There were dark shadows beneath her large brown eyes, like smudged charcoal. “You shouldn’t have come. Not with everything you have going on. Classes starting this week. Jackson.”
“Of course I had to come,” Aubrey said. “You know I’ll always be here for you.” She paused. “And for Kevin. Have you seen him? Is he holding up?”
“Yes. They were all at the house earlier.” She couldn’t tell Aubrey how shattered he’d been this morning—a broken zombie. And Diana had broken him. “His in-laws have been taking charge of everything. Taking some of the burden off Kevin.”
“That’s our job, Mama.”
“Kevin doesn’t want us, Aubrey.”
“Yes, he does. He needs both of us.” Her daughter squeezed her hand. “But tell me how you’re doing.” Aubrey’s eyes seemed to do a quick assessment of Diana’s face and clothes, which she hadn’t thought to change since yesterday. “Have you eaten anything?”
“I’ve grabbed a bite here and there.”
Her daughter looked skeptical, then led her to sit on the edge of the bed. “They told me the FBI was interviewing you.”
“They’re talking to everyone in the family. Kevin, Kim, the Simmers.”