The Guest List by Fern Michaels Page B

was a closed book, never giving him a hint of what she was thinking or feeling. Those were the times that made him think he didn’t know her quite as well as he thought he did. Thankfully, those times were few and far between.
    He turned his thoughts to Abby. Was she angry at him, too? He’d read her all the case studies, told her what the doctors had said, given her a list of pros and cons. He’d convinced her that this was her only chance to get what she wanted— normalcy—just as he’d convinced …
    Just as I convinced John that leaving Harriet was the best thing for all concerned. “Jesus Christ!” he said aloud as he raised his chin and tilted his head backward. He felt as if a bolt of lightning had ricocheted down his spine.
    Inside, in the kitchen, Carol assumed control of her domain. “Bunny, why don’t you fix all of us some of that herbal tea. I’ll settle Abby in, then we’ll have tea upstairs in her room.”
    Bunny recognized the hint. Or was it an order? She wasn’t sure, so she reached for an exquisite teapot. Moments later, Donovan came in from the garage. Bunny was about to ask him which flavor of tea he preferred but decided against it when she saw his bleak expression.
    Fifteen minutes later she had everything together on a tray that matched the teapot. She balanced it perfectly as she headed for Abby’s bedroom. Her guts churned when she saw her friend propped up in a nest of pillows. Abby’s soft whimpers brought tears to her eyes. She set the tea tray down on the nightstand, spread a napkin on top of the covers. She handed Abby a flowered cup that matched the tray and the teapot. It must be a set, she thought inanely. “Drink this. It’s chamomile. My mother always used to fix it for us when we got wired up,” she said, trying to sound confident. She stared at Abby a moment longer, before she served Carol and Donovan.
    Abby sipped the tea. A moment later she looked at Donovan, her eyes full of pain and tears. “I need a pain pill, Uncle Donovan.”
    Donovan moved around to the side of the bed next to Abby. “I’m sorry, Princess. I can’t give you one. The doctor gave you a shot for pain before we left and told me not to give you anything else for a couple of hours. Drink a little more tea. It’ll help you to relax.”
    The tears spilled over. She howled in pain as her salty tears rolled down her burned face. “My face is on fire. Can’t we put some ice on it?”
    Donovan shook his head regretfully. “The doctor gave me explicit instructions, and ice isn’t an option. The pain shot should be starting to take effect. Trust me.”
    Abby had always trusted Donovan, but this time he was as helpless as she. She gave in to the pain and moaned. “God, it hurts so bad. I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I didn’t know. You have to do something. Aspirin, something, anything ,” she pleaded.
    Donovan sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for Abby’s hand. “Shh, it’s going to be okay.” He took the cup and saucer from her hands and gave them to Bunny. “Close your eyes, honey. Try to sleep.”
    Abby squeezed Donovan’s hand. “Sleep? It hurts too bad to sleep. It hurts all the way inside my head. They didn’t say this would happen,” she said sharply. “I don’t ever want to do this again. I don’t care if I’m ugly or not. I don’t care. Do you hear me, Uncle Donovan, I don’t care. ”
    “Hush. You aren’t ugly. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. Isn’t she, Carol?”
    Carol stood behind Donovan, clutching his shoulders. “You’re beautiful, Abby, inside and out,” she said.
    “No!” Abby said. “Mallory was right. I’m ugly.”
    “Mallory!” Carol spit contemptuously. “She’s a hateful, spiteful—”
    Donovan put his index finger to his lips. “Shh. She’s asleep, Carol,” he said wearily. “I could kill that goddamn doctor!” he said between his teeth. “He said it would sting. He didn’t say she was going to be in this