Free Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas by James Patterson Page B

at the beep.
     Thanks.”
    Katie left a message. She hoped it was important to Matt. “I’m reading the diary,” she said. That was all.

T HE DIARY

     
    Come to our wedding, Nicky. This is your invitation. I want you to know exactly what it was like on the day your mother and
     father pledged their love.
    Snow was falling gently on the island. The bells were ringing in the clear, cold, crisp December air as dozens of frosty well-wishers
     crossed the threshold into the Gay Head Community Church, which happens to be the oldest Indian Baptist church in the country.
     It’s also one of the loveliest.
    There is only one word that can describe our wedding day . . .
joy.
Matt and I were both giddy. I was just about flying among the angels carved in the four corners of the chapel ceiling.
    I really did feel like an angel in an antique white dress strung with a hundred luminescent pearls. My grandfather came to
     Martha’s Vineyard for the first time in fifteen years, just to walk me down the aisle. All my doctor friends from Boston made
     the trip in the dead of winter. Some of my septuagenarian patients came, too. The church was full, standing room only for
     the ecumenical service. As you might have guessed, just about everybody on the island is a friend of Matt’s.
    He was incredibly handsome in a jazzy black tux, with his hair trimmed for the occasion, but not too short, his eyes bright
     and shining, his beautiful smile more radiant than it had ever been.
    Can you see it, Nicky
—with the snow lightly blowing in from the ocean? It was glorious.
    “Are you as happy as I am?” Matt leaned toward me and whispered as we stood before the altar. “You look incredibly beautiful.”
    I felt myself blush, which was unlike me. Dr. Control, Dr. Self-Confidence, Dr. Hold It Together. But a feeling of unguarded
     vulnerability washed over me as I looked into Matt’s eyes. This was so right.
    “I’ve never been happier, never surer of anything in my life,” I said.
    We made our pledge on December 31, just before the New Year arrived. There was something almost magical about becoming husband
     and wife on New Year’s Eve. It felt to me as if the whole world were celebrating with us.
    Seconds after Matt and I pledged our vows, everyone in the church stood and yelled, “Happy New Year, Matt and Suzanne!”
    Silvery white feathers were released from dozens of satin pouches that had been carefully strung from the ceiling. Matt and
     I were in a bliz- zard of angels and clouds and doves. We kissed and held each other tightly.
    “How do you like the first moment of marriage, Mrs. Harrison?” he asked me. I think he liked saying, “Mrs. Harrison,” and
     I liked hearing it for the first time.
    “If I had known how wonderful it was going to be, I’d have insisted we marry twenty years ago,” I said.
    Matt grinned and went along with me.
    “How could we? We didn’t know each other.” “Oh, Matt,” I said, “we’ve known each other all our lives. We must have.”
    I couldn’t help remembering what Matt had said the night he proposed on the beach in front of my house. “Isn’t it lucky,”
     he’d said, “Suzanne didn’t die in Boston and we have today to be together.” I was
incredibly
lucky, and it gave me a chill as I stood there with Matt on our wedding night.
    That’s what it felt like—that was the exact feeling—and I’m so happy that now you were there.
     
    Nicholas,
    Matt and I went on a whirlwind, three-week honeymoon that started on New Year’s Day.
    The first week we were on Lanai in Hawaii. It is a glorious spot, the best, with only two hotels on the entire island. No
     wonder Bill Gates chose it for his honeymoon, too. I soon discovered that I loved Matt even more than I had before he proposed.
     We never wanted to leave Lanai. He would paint houses and finish his first collection of poems. I would be an island doctor.
    The second week we went to Hana on Maui, and it was almost as special as