Harvesting the Heart by Jodi Picoult

Harvesting the Heart by Jodi Picoult

Author:Jodi Picoult
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Women - United States, Family Life, General, Literary, Mystery fiction, Fiction, Domestic Fiction, Women
ISBN: 9780140230277
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 1993-01-02T00:00:00+00:00


“Nicholas?” I pulled at the collar of my shirt and ran my fingers over the smooth silk scarf from Astrid, trying to escape the phone booth’s heat.

“My God, Paige. Are you hurt? I called the supermarket—I called six of them, because I didn’t know where you’d gone, and I tried the nearest gas stations. Was there an accident?”

“Not really,” I said, and I heard Nicholas draw in his breath. “How’s the baby?” I asked, feeling tears prick the back of my throat. It was strange; for almost three months, all I’d thought about was getting away from Max, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was always in the corner of my mind, clouding my vision, his gummy fists reaching toward me. I actually missed him.

“The baby’s fine. Where are you? When are you coming home?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

“You’re where?” In the background, I heard Max start to cry, and then the sounds became louder, so I knew Nicholas was jiggling the baby in his arms.

“I was headed to the Stop & Shop, and I kind of kept going. I just need a little time—”

“Well, hey, Paige, so does the rest of the free world, but we don’t just up and run away!” Nicholas was yelling; I held the receiver away from my ear. “Let me get this straight,” he said, “you left us on purpose?”

“I didn’t run away,” I insisted. “I’m coming back.”

“When?” Nicholas demanded. “I have a life, you know. I have a job to get back to.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the glass of the phone booth. “I have a life too.”

Nicholas did not answer, and for a moment I thought he’d hung up, but then I heard Max babbling in the background. “Your life,” Nicholas said, “is right here. Not in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

What I wanted to tell him was: I’m not ready to be a mother. I can’t even be your wife, not until I patch together the pieces of my own life and fill in all the holes. I will come home, and we’ll pick up where we left off. I won’t forget you; I love you. But what I said to Nicholas was: “I’ll be back soon.”

Nicholas’s voice was hoarse and low. “Don’t bother,” he said, and he slammed down the phone.



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