Joy Fielding - Still Life

To all the truly wonderful women in my life

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are a lot of people to thank this time around. As always, thanks to Larry Mirkin and Beverley Slopen, who read my early drafts with critical eyes and kind hearts. Their advice is invaluable. Thanks also to Judith Curr, Emily Bestler, Sarah Branham, Laura Stern, Louise Burke, David Brown, and everyone else at Atria Books, who work so hard to make my books a success in the United States, and to John Neale, Brad Martin, Maya Mavjee, Kristin Cochrane, Val Gow, Lesley Horlick, Adria Iwasutiak, and the staff at Doubleday Canada, a division of Random House of Canada. My humble thanks to all my publishers, editors, and translators throughout the world. Im so grateful to you all. To Corinne Assayag of worldexposure.com , who has done such a superb job with my website. And to Tracy Fisher and her assistant, Elizabeth Reed, at the William Morris Agency. You had a hard act to follow, Tracy, and Im sure Owen is very proud of the job youre doing. I know I am.

People often ask how much research I do on my books, and Im always forced to admit that I hate doing research, preferring to make up my facts. But there are times when real research is necessary, and I couldnt have written Still Life without the help of the following: Dr. Alan Marcus, who provided me with hours worth of notes about what can happen to a person who has been struck by a car, including the various hospital tests, operations, and procedures that might follow; Dr. Keith Meloff, who detailed what happens to the brain of someone in a coma, and the kinds of tests that might be performed; and Dr. Terry Bates, who answered many of my more casual questions. These three gentlemen couldnt have been more gracious or helpful, and I thank you again.

Special thanks to Dr. Eddy Slotnick and his wife, Vicki, who provided me with lots of information about Philadelphia and its suburbs. I referred often to the notes I took from our many conversations, and hope I got the details right.

And thanks, of courseas well as hugs and kissesgo to my husband and daughters. Extra thanks to Shannon for her assistance with regard to my e-mail. And to Aurora, for making my life easier and for making sure Im well fed. And lastly, to you, the readers. Your support, as well as your letters of encouragement, are a constant source of joy and satisfaction. You keep reading, and Ill keep writing.

ONE

L ess than an hour before the car slammed into her at a speed of almost fifty miles an hour, throwing her ten feet into the air, breaking nearly every bone in her body and cracking her head against the hard concrete, Casey Marshall was sitting in the elegant, narrow dining room of Southwark, one of South Philadelphias more popular white-tablecloth restaurants, finishing lunch with her two closest friends and stealing glances at the beautiful, secluded courtyard behind their heads. She was wondering how long the unnaturally warm March weather was going to last, whether shed have time to go for a run before her next appointment, and whether she should tell Janine the truth about what she really thought of her latest haircut. Shed already lied and said she liked it. Casey smiled at the thought of an early spring and allowed her gaze to drift over her right shoulder, past the luminous still-life painting of a bouquet of enormous pink peonies by Tony Scherman, and toward the magnificent mahogany bar that was the centerpiece of the restaurants front room.

You hate it, dont you? she heard Janine say.

The painting? Casey asked, although she doubted Janine had even noticed it. Janine regularly boasted she was oblivious to her surroundings. Having said that, she always seemed to select only the finest, most expensive places for them to have lunch. I think its fabulous.

My hair. You think its awful.

I dont think its awful.

You think its too severe.

Casey looked directly into Janines intense blue eyes, several shades darker than her own. A little, yes, she agreed, thinking that the sharp, geometric angles of the blunt cut that hugged Janines long, thin face put too much emphasis on the already exaggerated point of her chin, especially when combined with the almost blue-black tint of her hair.

I was just so tired of the same old thing all the time, Janine explained, looking to their mutual friend, Gail, for confirmation.

Gail, sitting beside Janine and across from Casey at the small, square table, nodded obligingly. A change is as good as a rest, she said half a beat behind Janine, so their sentences overlapped, like a song being sung in rounds.

I mean, were not in college anymore, Janine continued. Were over thirty. Its important to keep current.

Always good to keep current, Gail echoed.

It was just time to do away with the Alice in Wonderland hairdo. Janines eyes settled pointedly on the naturally blond hair that fell softly across Caseys shoulders.

I liked your hair long, Casey demurred.

So did I, Gail agreed, tucking a few frizzy brown curls behind her right ear. Gail never had a problem with her hair. It always looked as if shed just stepped on an electrical current. Although I like it this way, too, she added.

Yeah, well, it was time to move on. Thats what you always say, isnt it? The question was accompanied by such a sweet smile that it was difficult to know whether or not to take offense. What wasnt difficult for Casey to figure out was that they were no longer talking about hair.

Time for more coffee, Gail announced, signaling the waiter.

Casey decided to ignore the deeper implications of Janines remark. What was the point in reopening old wounds? Instead, she offered up her gold-rimmed white china cup to the handsome, dark-haired waiter, watching as the hot brown liquid cascaded artfully from the spout of the silver coffeepot. While Casey knew Janine had never quite gotten over Caseys decision to leave the legal placement service theyd cofounded fresh out of college to start her own business in the totally unrelated field of interior design, shed talked herself into believing that after almost a year, Janine had at least made peace with it. What complicated things was the fact that Caseys new business had taken off running, while Janines had ground to a halt. And who wouldnt resent that? Its amazing how everything you touch turns to gold, Janine regularly observed, always with the dazzling smile that accompanied the vaguely unpleasant undertone in her voice, making Casey question the validity of her instincts. Its probably just my guilty conscience, Casey thought now, not sure what she should feel guilty for.

She took a long sip of her black coffee, feeling it burn the back of her throat. She and Janine had been friends since their sophomore year at Brown. Janine had just made the switch from prelaw to honors English; Casey was double-majoring in English and psychology. Despite the obvious differences in their personalitiesCasey generally the softer, more flexible of the two, Janine the more brittle and outgoing; Casey the more conciliatory, Janine the more confrontationaltheyd clicked immediately. Perhaps it was a case of opposites attracting, of one woman sensing something in the other that was lacking in herself. Casey had never tried too hard to analyze the forces that had brought them together, or why their friendship had endured a decade past graduation, despite the myriad changes those ten years had brought, changes that included the dissolution of their business partnership and Caseys recent marriage to a man Janine describedcomplete with dazzling smileas fucking perfect, of course. Casey chose to be grateful instead.