The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [73]
“I wish Joe could see it that way,” she said. “And my parents. I think my mother truly hates me.”
“Your parents love you,” he said. “But they’ve gotten so used to saying black when you say white, that it’s hard for you to ever win with them. And Joe…Joe might come around. He’s not so bad. And he’s still…besotted with you.”
She laughed at his choice of words. “He has a funny way of showing it.”
“Well, you know how when you’re in love with someone, you feel almost desperate to change them into a person you can relate to more easily.”
“I don’t want to change you,” she said. She leaned back to look at him. “I’m so grateful I have you. I’m so grateful for the way you’ve treated Sophie and me.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something, opening his mouth slightly, then apparently changing his mind with a shake of his head.
“Come here.” He pulled her close again, and she rested her head against his chest. “Let’s try to sleep,” he said. “I’m afraid tomorrow might be another long day.”
She shut her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin. She was uncertain she could handle another day like this one and nearly said that out loud, but caught herself. She knew what Lucas would say. He would say she was strong enough to handle anything. She truly hoped he was right.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Joe could not sleep. If Paula hadn’t been in the room, he would have put on the television, one of the old shows on “Nick at Night” for some mindless entertainment. But Paula was sleeping soundly, and he didn’t want to wake her. They had talked for about an hour from their separate beds, and he was grateful for Paula’s calm, dispassionate thinking at a time when his own mind was in turmoil.
“There’s nothing we can do until we know who was in that car and what might have happened to the other girl,” Paula had said. “Until then, worrying won’t help.”
She had relaxed him, then, with guided imagery, placing him on a beach in Hawaii, and to his surprise, he felt his tight muscles soften with the sound of her voice. There was no one quite like Paula, Joe thought. He had never known anyone so able to remain cool and rational in the face of chaos. The only time he had ever seen her fall apart was the morning she learned of her mother’s death, and it had pleased him to be able to comfort her, to give back to her for a change. She had given so much to him over the last few years, as he coped with Sophie’s illness and the divorce.
But even after the guided imagery, he still had not been able to fall asleep, and Paula’s calming effect was not lasting. He was about to get up and go outside for a walk when there was a knock on the motel door. Quickly, he pulled on his shorts and opened the door.
The man illuminated by the motel light was short and slight and dressed in a sheriff’s uniform.
“Are you Joseph Donohue?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“May I come in?”
Joe glanced behind him at Paula’s bed.
“I’m awake,” Paula said as she sat up in the bed.
“Yes,” Joe said to the sheriff. “Come in, please.” He moved to the side of the room to turn on the floor lamp.
“Have a seat,” the sheriff said, as he himself sat down at the small round table near the lamp.
Joe sat on the edge of his bed, his heart pounding. Whatever this man was about to tell him would change his life, of that he was certain.
“We’ve heard from the medical examiner,” the sheriff said. “Your daughter, Sophie, was not the child in the car.”
Joe let out his breath. He stared wordlessly at the sheriff, and before he knew what had hit him, he lowered his head into his hands and began to cry.
Paula was at his side instantly. She sat next to him on the bed, her arm around his shoulders.
“Shh, sweetie,” she said. And then she took over, as if she realized Joe would not be able to handle this conversation himself. “It was definitely Holly in the car?” she asked the sheriff.
“Yes,” the sheriff said. “The dental records allowed the medical examiner to make a firm identification.”
“So, what happens