Free For All Their Lives by Fern Michaels Page B

I saw her. She looks old and tired. Very tired. She still smells like Noxema and she still has the little white flecks around her nails. She’s just older. I told her I was sorry.”
    â€œYou’re crazy! Why would you tell that old tyrant such a thing?”
    â€œSo it was a little lie. I think she needed to hear it. She’s never going to forget me, that’s for sure.” Casey laughed. “I always wanted to be unforgettable.”
    â€œI’ll never forget you,” Nicole cried.
    â€œThat’s enough for me,” Casey said, hugging her friend.
    â€œMe too.”
    â€œIf I don’t leave now, Nicole, both of us are going to be blubbering in our wine. I want to remember you with a smile and to know I skipped out to leave you to clean up this mess.”
    â€œAu revoir, chérie, ”Nicole said, wrapping Casey in her arms.
    â€œAu revoir, Nicole. ”A moment later Casey was out the door, tears streaming down her cheeks.
    Casey walked slowly, her hands jammed into her pockets for warmth. She was spending this last night in the student quarters because she’d turned over her apartment to a young intern who’d taken possession of her quarters at noon. She smiled when she realized she was homeless, though not for long.
    Tomorrow, today actually, was all planned. She would say her own personal good-bye to Paris. Then, at four o’clock, she would take a taxi to the airport and fly to California with one stopover in New York City.
    She had a house now, a home, and a small bank account in U.S. currency. Six thousand American dollars. Her inheritance. She’d read the letter from the American law firm of Quigley, Quigley, and Archmore a dozen times before she fully comprehended it. It had taken her a full hour to digest the information the attorney had given her over the phone when she’d finally made the decision to call. She’d called again when she made the decision to travel to California. Nolan Quigley said he would see that the utilities were turned on and he would leave the key in the mailbox. He’d told her to stop by his office at her convenience to sign the necessary papers. He also told her he would tell her what little he could about her father, though Jack Adams had only been a client for a year.
    Casey shivered in the cold night air. She really did have a father, one who thought enough of her to leave her his house and his money. She knew her name was a real name, not one made up by the nuns, the way Nicole’s name was. The lawyer had told her in a kindly voice that her mother was a streetwalker and her name was Rene Beauchamp. She’d cringed a little at the news, but having a real mother with a real name was the only thing of importance.
    It was all behind her now. Tomorrow she would start a new life. No regrets.
    The dimly lit hospital lobby had seemed like home for many years. She’d worked double shifts more times than she could remember. She always worked the holidays so the married nurses could be with their families. She stayed on extra hours to be with critical patients, on her own time with no pay. She lived for her work. It was her life.
    She’d been stunned two nights ago when she went off duty to find the nurses and doctors assembled in the day room shouting, “Surprise! Surprise!” It had been a wonderful going-away party. More wonderful because her colleagues had meant it when they said she was a good nurse and she would be sorely missed. They’d given her a beautiful gold watch and the biggest bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen. She’d wept then. At the end of the party the Chief of Surgery took her aside and said, “There will always be a job for you here if you want to come back. You are one of the finest, most dedicated nurses I’ve ever worked with.” Then he’d handed her such a glowing letter of recommendation that she’d cried all over again.
    The lobby was