Free The Spiral Path by Mary Jo Putney

got
lucky that skinny is now trendy."
    "Slim,
yes. Skinny, no." Val disappeared into her kitchen.
    As
Rainey sat down, her black cat jumped onto her lap and began to purr. As she
scratched the sleek, furry head, her nerves began to unknot. A cat was better
than a psychotherapist.
    Coffee
ice cream, hot fudge, nuts, and whipped cream helped even more as she described
her visit to the hospital. "Here's hoping Darrell Jackson can help my
grandfather. I wouldn't miss him much if he dies, but Gram certainly
would."
    "To
success, or a miracle, whichever is required." Val savored a spoonful of
ice cream and fudge sauce. "Was Mrs. Marlowe impressed that you're on a
first-name basis with one of the most famous brain surgeons in America?"
    "We
didn't get into that." Rainey doubted that Virginia Marlowe would have
been impressed even if her granddaughter was the famous neurosurgeon.
"How are things going for you?"
    Val
turned sideways in her overstuffed chair so that her legs draped over one arm.
Petite and curvy, she looked more like someone who should be jumping out of a
cake than a razor-brained lawyer. "Same old, same old. I'm getting pretty
tired of celibacy, but I haven't seen anyone to tempt me from it in
months."
    "This
is sounding serious."
    Val
closed her eyes, her levity dropping away to reveal bleak unhappiness. "It
is, Rainey. I've begun to think I'm incapable of having a healthy, normal
relationship."
    "That
can't be true, Val. You're warm, smart, funny, and kind. You have plenty of
friends who value you deeply. You just haven't found the right man."
    "Therein
lies the problem," Val said self-mockingly. "My judgment about men is
terrible. I meet a guy who seems different--nice, devoted, interested in a
relationship--and sure as God made little yellow canaries, he'll turn out to be
an alcoholic, or in love with his ex-wife, or a compulsive Don Juan, or some
other kind of loser."
    Rainey
had heard enough about Val's boyfriends over the years to know that was true.
"I wish I could say something useful, but my own track record is nothing
great."
    "Better
than mine." Val stroked the calico cat that had joined her in the chair.
"Actually, celibacy does have its points. It's nice not to have my
emotions roller-coastering all the time, and with two cats, I don't have to
sleep alone."
    They
drifted into easy conversation as they'd done regularly for the past quarter of
a century. In the months since Rainey's separation, they'd talked even more
than usual, because Val had the time, the willingness, and the understanding
Rainey had needed. It would have been harder to talk with Kate Corsi, who'd
been bubbling with happiness since her remarriage the year before.
    They
progressed from ice cream to chardonnay and were deep in a discussion about
aromatherapy when Rainey's cell phone rang. She wrinkled her nose as she pulled
it from her pocket. "I suppose I'd better answer this. Hello?"
    "Hi,
Raine." It was Emmy. "There's good news and bad news. What's your
preference?"
    She
frowned at the tension in Emmy's voice. "Start with the good news."
    "The
CAT scans for your grandfather are on their way to New York by special courier.
Dr. Jackson should be able to study them first thing in the morning."
    "Definitely
good. What's the bad news?"
    Emmy took a deep breath. "I'm
pregnant again; I've made it to the fourth month--but my doctor says I can't go
on location with you. The work is too strenuous. I might lose this one, too, if
I don't take it really, really easy."
    Rainey
bit back an oath. Emmy was her right hand, and she'd been counting on her help
during the shooting. But Emmy had already miscarried twice, and she and her
husband wanted this child desperately. Putting enthusiasm into her voice, she
said, "That's wonderful news! Since you're four months along, I'm sure
this baby will make it to term, but of course you can't take any risks."
    Emmy's
voice caught. "I'm sorry to let you down, Rainey. We weren't going to try
again until after