Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas by James Patterson

a second opinion. I was always diagnosing myself.
But today I felt just bad enough to want to ask someone else, “Hey, what do you think?” Instead, I threw cold water on my face and told myself it was probably a touch of the flu, which was making the rounds. I hadn't been feeling well lately.
I took something to settle my stomach, dressed, and went to work. By noon I was feeling much better, and by dinner I had forgotten about it.
It wasn't until the next morning that I found myself sitting on the edge of the tub once more--spent, tired, and feeling nauseated.
That's when I knew.
I called Matt on the cell phone, and he was surprised to hear from me so soon after he'd left the house.
“Are you okay? Is everything all right, Suzanne?”
“I think . . . that everything just got perfect,” I told him. “If you can, I'd like you to come home right now. On your way, could you stop at the drugstore? Would you pick up an EPT kit? I want to be absolutely sure, but, Matt, we're pregnant.”
Nicholas,

You were growing inside me.
What can I tell you, Nicky--happiness flooded our hearts and every room of the beach cottage. It came like high tide on a full moon.
After the wedding, Matt had moved into my house. It was his idea. He said it was best to rent his place out since I was so established with my patients, and my proximity to the hospital was ideal. It was considerate and sweet of him, which is his way. For a big, tough guy, he's awfully nice. Your daddy is the best.
I would have missed the ocean, our sweet and salty garden, and the summer shutters that clack all night against the house when it's windy. But now I don't have to.
We decided to make the sunroom of the house yours. We thought you'd love the way the morning light comes pouring over the sills to fill every nook and cranny. Daddy and I began converting it into a perfect nursery, gathering things that we thought you might love.
We hung wallpaper that danced with Mother Goose stories. There were your bears, your first books, and colorful wall quilts that hung over your crib, the same crib Daddy had when he was a baby. Grandma Jean had saved it all these years. Just for you, pumpkin.
We jammed the shelves with far too many variously colored stuffed animals, and every variety of ball known to sportsmen.
Daddy made an oak rocking horse that boasted a beautiful one-of-a-kind crimson and gold mane. Daddy also made you delicately balanced mobiles filled with moons-and-stars galaxies. And a music box to hang in your crib.
Every time you pull the cord, it plays “Whistle a Happy Tune.” Whenever I hear that song, I think of you.
We can't wait to meet you.
Nick,

Matt is at it again. A present was on the kitchen table when I got home from work. Gold paper covered in hearts and tied with blue ribbon concealed the contents. I couldn't possibly love him any more than I do.
I shook the small package, and a tiny note dropped out from under the bow.
It read, “Working late tonight, Suze, but thinking about you as always. Open this when you get in and get relaxed. I'll be back by ten. Matt.”
I wondered where Matt was working until ten, but I let it go. I unwrapped the box carefully and lifted the tiny lid.
Inside was the most beautiful antique necklace. A sapphire locket in the shape of a heart hung from a silver chain. It was probably a hundred and fifty years old.
I pressed the clasp, and the heart opened to reveal a message that had been engraved inside.
Nicholas, Suzanne, and Matt--Forever One.
Nick--

A few years back there was a book called The Bridges of Madison County. Its huge success was partly due to the fact that so many people seem to be missing romance and emotion in their lives. But an underlying premise of the novel was that romance can last for only a short time; in this particular book, only a couple of days for the main characters, Robert and Francesca. Romeo and Juliet were also star-crossed lovers whose love for each other ended tragically.
Nicky, please