Swept Away by Robyn Carr Page A

of life since childhood. A solitary existence.
    She had learned to sleep in chaos or stay calm during the black periods. She did not miss the craziness, but she missed her mother so much sometimes. No matter how high or low she happened to be, she was always sweet. Cherie was like a child, so vulnerable and loving.
    She had rarely talked about it. She had never told Nick anything personal. He could care less. What he liked about her was her long hair and legs, high perky tits, et cetera.
    Now she had someone to tell.
    Dear Louise,
    Messy. My childhood was a train wreck. My mother, I now realize, was bipolar, but because we were barely scraping by financially she never had a proper diagnosis. She was hospitalized a couple of times and medicated with Thorazine, which had the effect of knocking her out and making her sick—so naturally she feared the doctors. I’m sure it’s a good thing I was the only child. I don’t think we could have managed more than just the two of us. We had some high old times if the right man or job came along—but it couldn’t last long because my mother would sink into a terrible depression and lose her boyfriend or job. Once she got back on her feet, we’d move—a person in a manic state loves nothing so much as a change of scenery and a chance to start over. I went to over twenty schools. That probably accounts for me being such a loner. After my grandparents died, my poor mother lost the only anchor she had and took her own life. I know she was crazy and sometimes miserable, but the fun times were so fun. And she was a dear. A lovely, kind, sweet but wacky woman. She loved me so. It made her feel so guilty that my life was so dysfunctional. But there were times when life seemed almost normal. You’d have liked her.
    I didn’t think I wanted ever to talk about that, but thank you for asking.
    Love,
    Doris
    Dear Doris,
    You are truly a remarkable young woman. I can’t imagine all you must have learned from that experience. What wisdom and tenacity! I’m sorry for the hard times, but so glad you knew your mother loved you.
    Now that you don’t have to be a caretaker to an ill parent, how do you suppose your life will change?
    Louise
    Change? Jennifer realized that Louise had the impression her mother had died recently, that Jennifer was poised on the brink of a new life.
    Well, maybe she was.
    We’re friends, Jennifer realized. Girl friends. This was something she’d never had. Every time she began to get close to a friend while growing up, she would be snatched away again and it would be lost. There were a couple of women she began to get close to in her twenties, but she couldn’t sustain the friendships because she was too private, too solitary. Women have to exchange personal items and secrets in barter for friendship and Jennifer hadn’t been up to the job. But now... With her eighty-year-old mentor, she was learning.
    She depended on the emails to sustain her.
    After writing to Louise, she would begin her internet search for any news about Barbara Noble, but there had been none. She watched the Palm Beach news, subscribed to vital statistics networks and read online news sources. Every once in a while Nick’s name would pop up, or he’d have his photo in the paper, which could be viewed online. He played in a charity golf tournament in Miami and bought a new yacht. He gave money to political campaigns and cut the ribbon on yet another new office building. His wife was never at his side, yet this didn’t seem to raise any alarms.
    But...if he was in Miami being a big shot, he was not in Las Vegas. It was possible he had people looking for her in his stead, but there was no one she feared recognizing her as much as Nick.
    Here’s how her life was going to change—she was going to get this business with Nick Noble behind her somehow and create an entirely new life for herself. She made up a new screen name on