Emily's Daughter (8 page)

“I’ll never see her,” Emily murmured with an ache in her voice. “I’ll never see her face.”

Becca put her own face in front of Emily. “You can see
me.
I’m always here.”

Emily brushed away a tear and smiled slightly. “And I love you more than I can say, and tomorrow I’m buying you the most expensive dress we can find.”

Becca grinned. “Planning on testing Mom’s blood pressure, are you?”

“Why not, little sister? We’re due to have some fun, and tomorrow you and I will do just that.”

Becca drew back at the light in Emily’s eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

Emily felt giddy and young again, and all because Becca hadn’t condemned her or looked at her with disgust. This was the first time she’d even allowed herself to believe she could be forgiven for the past. Forgiven and loved again. That was silly and she knew it; nonetheless it was the way she felt.

“Becca.” Emily became serious. “I have to put the past behind me and find a happy medium with Mom. I need your help to do that. I need you to be more understanding and patient.”

“I’ll try,” Becca whispered.

“That’s all I ask.”

Arm in arm, they returned to the living room.

A
FTER
J
ACKSON LEFT
his father’s, he went to his apartment and fell into a deep, restless sleep that was filled with dreams of Emily. When he woke, she permeated his mind, his body and soul. He’d said he didn’t want to think about
Emily and yet he couldn’t
stop
thinking about her. He raised himself to a sitting position as he remembered the Emily he’d once known. There was something different about her, something fresh and exciting. The first time he saw her shining, wholesome face he was enraptured. And when he looked into those dark, sultry eyes, he felt as if she’d reached inside him and touched a place no woman had ever touched before—his heart. He could almost recapture that feeling and it caused so many other emotions to surface.

He wasn’t blameless.

He took a shuddering breath as the truth of that struck him. He took another long breath as he admitted to himself that he’d taken her love in selfish haste and hadn’t given any thought as to how that would affect her after he’d gone. The fact that he’d
planned
to go back didn’t matter. He should have been more considerate of her eighteen years ago. And last night…

He’d told Emily he had to get away from her. That was true. If he’d stayed, he would’ve said things that couldn’t be retracted. He hadn’t wanted to do that, and he now knew why. He couldn’t hurt her. To his shock, he realized that Emily had captured his heart years ago, and no woman had done that since. He’d had affairs, even married, and yet no one affected him the way Emily had. Why, then, hadn’t he gone back? Why?

The question tortured him, forcing him to delve further into his soul. He had been young and in torment over his mother’s illness. His life had taken a downward spiral; nothing had mattered but his own pain. He’d told his father that he’d loved Emily and he meant it. Once, he thought nothing would keep him from her, but he’d been wrong. Their love had been shattered by the frailty of human life.
That didn’t excuse his behavior. It just made him see more clearly that he was not blameless.

He drew his knees up and remembered Emily as she was long ago—laughing and delightful and loving, except when she was around her mother. Then she became solemn, almost stoic, and he’d seen the immense power Rose wielded over Emily. But it hadn’t kept their love from developing into something profound. On the beach, away from her mother, they talked, confided in each other. Laughed together. Fell in love. He’d learned everything about Emily, and he knew she wasn’t heartless, quite the contrary. She wouldn’t have given their child away…unless…unless she was coerced.
By her mother.

He got out of bed in a quick jerky movement and started to pace around the room. As his father had said, he’d judged Emily without hearing the whole story. He should have asked questions. He should have consoled her. It must have been agonizing for her—scared and unable to reach him and then having to face Rose. What had he done? He should’ve stayed last night; maybe they could’ve talked things out. Instead he’d run like the young fool he’d been years ago.

Damn. Damn. Why? Why had he done that? Because he couldn’t face his own weakness. He wasn’t blameless, but he had blamed, judged and condemned her without even knowing it. He’d done it because she’d given away their child and he took that as a sign that she hadn’t loved him or the baby. There it was, plain and simple. The deep pain in his heart had driven him out the door. He still cared for Emily. Years had not diminished his feelings, and now that he was thinking more clearly, he understood that Emily hadn’t given up their child without pressure.

He stopped pacing and stared down at himself. He still had his clothes on. He hadn’t even bothered to remove
them when he got in. He had to shower and change. He had to see Emily. He had to hear her story and, this time, he’d listen with an open heart. The first thing he’d tell her was that he was sorry he hadn’t come back as he’d promised. Then he’d explain that he intended to take responsibility for his thoughtless actions. But most of all, he wanted to make this right with Emily. He prayed she’d understand his reaction, but then he remembered that shattered look in her eyes. His heart constricted with a new kind of pain. Would she forgive him? He didn’t know, but he had to find out.

As he hurried toward the bathroom, the phone rang and he swerved to pick it up. “Hello.”

“Jackson, what the hell happened to you?” Colton’s voice came through loud and angry. “You were supposed to talk to Conley.”

Jackson sat heavily on the bed. He’d forgotten all about Conley. “I’m sorry, but I’ve had a family crisis that’s just about wiped me out.”

“Is your dad okay?”

“Yeah, it’s something entirely different. I’ll explain later.”

“Conley’s due here in about half an hour and I’m not sure how to handle him.”

Jackson grimaced, not wanting to go into the office. He wanted to go to Emily, but he had to take care of business first. “I’ll be there,” he said without enthusiasm.

A long pause. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’ll come. I just need to get dressed.”

“Thanks, Jackson.” He could hear the relief in Colton’s voice. “We’ll talk when you get here.”

“See you then,” Jackson said, and hung up.

He lived in an apartment about ten minutes from his office; that was the reason he’d chosen it. It also had a
pool, tennis courts and a gym, which added to its appeal, but he never used any of them. He worked all the time. He was a workaholic…just like Janine had called him in one of their bitter arguments. Of course, he’d called her the same thing. But
his
life was going to change. He now had something else on his mind, something besides work.

Emily.

He had to see Emily.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
was Saturday and Emily planned to sleep in, but she was awake at six, as always. Old habits were hard to break. She crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Becca, but nothing less than a bomb exploding would do that. Becca was curled up, her dark hair tumbled over the pillow. Asleep she looked just like the little girl Emily couldn’t wait to get home to see. She was almost grown now, and Emily hoped she made better choices than her bigger sister had. She would, Emily thought with confidence, because she was sensible and well-grounded. But then, she reminded herself, she’d been exactly the same way. She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She intended to be here for Becca, trying to help her through these difficult years with their mother. Becca deserved her support. And now that Emily had told her about the past, Becca was better equipped to understand Rose.

Emily slipped on a pink silk robe over matching pink pajamas and headed for the kitchen. She felt much better today. Telling Becca her secret had lifted a burden from her and she could handle Jackson’s anger on a new level. She wasn’t letting him drag her into despair, into misery and pain. She’d been there and she wasn’t going back. But she did wonder about Jackson and how he was and if he’d calmed down. She wished she could talk to him again, try to explain, but he didn’t want to see her. She was sure of
that, and it was probably just as well, she told herself. Still, that didn’t relieve the pain in her heart.

As she neared the kitchen, she heard raised voices—her parent’s.

“We have to do something,” her mother was saying.

“Just leave things alone, Rose,” her father replied.

“That’s your solution to everything,” Rose shouted. “But I can’t do that. I’m scared.”

Emily walked into the kitchen and everything became very quiet. Her mother busied herself at the stove and her father buried his face in the newspaper.

Were they talking about her? Her immediate reaction was no, they were arguing about Becca. Rose wanted Owen to do something, and Owen refused to interfere. Her father was a meek, docile man who wasn’t much good with words or with people. Fishing was his great passion and he indulged it to his heart’s content. That was the only time Emily remembered seeing him truly happy.

“You’re up early, Emily Ann,” her mother said.

“I’m always up early,” Emily answered, reaching for a cup and filling it with coffee. She sat beside her father at the table.

“Going fishing today?” she asked.

The paper lowered a fraction. “Yeah, I got a man coming at seven. He wants to catch some redfish.”

“Since you know all the best spots, that shouldn’t be a problem.” She sipped her coffee.

The paper lowered completely. “Sometimes it has a lot to do with the weather,” he said, eager to talk about fishing. Emily suddenly realized that was the only thing they ever talked about. When it came to everyday problems, her father shied away. She’d really needed him eighteen years ago, and he’d done the same thing. It was as though he couldn’t make himself believe she was pregnant, so he
did what he had to—or what her mother told him to do. Emily groaned inwardly. She had to stop blaming her parents. It was her fault…her own fault.

“I’d better get moving.” Her father’s words broke into her thoughts. “I’ve got to get bait and gas up the boat.” He stood and grabbed his baseball cap from the table. “See you later.” With that he disappeared out the back door.

“Where’s Rebecca?” her mother asked.

“She’s still asleep.”

“I won’t have her lying in bed until noon.”

Emily glanced at her mother. “It’s not even seven in the morning, and it
is
Saturday.”

“She needs to be out looking for a summer job.”

Emily took a deep breath. “I told you, I’m taking her shopping today.”

“She doesn’t need—”

Emily held up a hand. “Don’t start.”

“You can’t come home and spoil her. I have to deal with her when you’re gone.”

“Let go, Mom,” Emily said softly. “Becca will be gone soon enough. Try to enjoy these last months with her.”

Rose twisted her hands. “I lost you. I can’t lose Rebecca.”

Emily was shocked at the heartfelt revelation. Her instant response was to comfort her mother, to say she hadn’t lost her at all, but in truth she’d be lying. Their relationship had changed drastically the day her mother had said, “You have embarrassed and shamed your father and me, Emily Ann, something I thought you would never do. For your sake and ours, you have to give the child up for adoption. It’s the only option you’ve got.”

After that, it was a steady barrage of the same thing and in the end she’d done exactly what her parents had told her to—still the dutiful daughter. Now Rose was feeling a
sense of loss concerning Rebecca because she was grown up and would soon be leaving home. That Emily could reassure her about.

“Mom…”

“Don’t say a word,” Rose said emphatically. “You’ve made it very plain how you feel.” Before Emily could respond, Rose went on. “You blame us, but we were only thinking of you and your future. You wanted to be a doctor ever since I can remember, but with a baby, you would never have gone to college or med school. You’d be stuck in some dead-end minimum-wage job.”

But I would have my daughter
was all Emily could think.

Through the agonizing thought, she heard Rose asking a question, “How many times did you call that boy?”

“I lost track,” Emily murmured.

“And he never answered any of your calls. He didn’t want to talk to you, and George Talbert wouldn’t even talk to Owen. They made it clear they weren’t willing to take responsibility.”

Emily frowned. “Dad called Mr. Talbert?”

“Yes, and he got the runaround. They said Mr. Talbert wasn’t taking calls. Owen left messages, but he never called back. We don’t have to wonder why, do we?”

Emily was aware why Mr. Talbert hadn’t called back—the same reason Jackson hadn’t. Mrs. Talbert had died and they wanted to be left alone to deal with their grief. At the time, nothing else had mattered. Emily now understood that, but she wouldn’t tell her mother because then she would have to explain she’d seen Jackson again. That would only cause more problems.

Emily took a calming breath. “I’m tired of talking about this. I wish I could come home just once without all this rehashing of the past.”

“Me, too,” Rose muttered. “And just once I wish you wouldn’t undermine my authority with Rebecca.”

Emily bit her tongue until she thought it would bleed, but she wasn’t rising to the bait; she knew exactly what her mother was doing. She was applying pressure, hoping Emily would back down and support her strict rules for Becca. But that wasn’t happening.

Emily got slowly to her feet. “As I told you last night, Becca is not paying for my mistakes. She has a good head on her shoulders, and I trust her.”

Rose snorted. “You don’t even know your sister. The time you spend with her, you spoil her rotten and indulge her every whim.”

“Mom.” Emily sighed irritably.

“No, you listen to me,” Rose continued. “I have preached and preached to you girls about boys, and neither one of you has heard a word I’ve said. So go ahead, buy her a new dress, indulge her, but whatever happens will be
your
responsibility.”

Emily nodded. She refused to react to her mother’s accusations and threats. They were only saying things to hurt each other, and again Emily questioned her decision to come home. It always renewed the pain. Why did she think it would be different this time? She didn’t; she knew better. She’d come home for Becca. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

As she walked to the door, her mother’s words followed her. “Wake your sister. I’m making pancakes. Your favorite.”

Emily had the urge to laugh. Pancakes would make all the heartache go away. They would sit down as a family and talk companionably and enjoy them. Oh, yeah, that sounded as plausible as aliens landing on their roof, but appearances were important to her mother and they would
pretend. Then Rose could tell her friends that her daughter had come home and what a good time they’d all had. Her mother lived in a false world of her own making. That didn’t concern Emily anymore. What did concern her was Becca, and she’d do anything to keep peace for her sake—except bow to Rose’s demands or accept her unreasonable rules.

I
N LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES
Jackson was in his office and it didn’t take him long to soothe Mr. Conley.

Later, Colton said, “How do you do it? A few words from you and Conley’s like a docile teddy bear. With me, he was a roaring lion, demanding instead of listening.”

Jackson smiled at his friend, whose long blond hair curled in all directions. That was the problem. He looked more like a rock star than a computer genius. Jackson had experienced the same reaction when he first met Colton, but he’d found him to be intelligent, responsible and trustworthy. When Clay, Colton’s brother, had decided to sell his share of the company, Jackson had been skeptical, but everything had worked out, and he and Colton had become fast friends. Jackson trusted him completely. It took their male clients a while to respond to his boyish charm, but once they did, it was smooth sailing. And the women—they all loved him. There were never any problems with female clients.

Jackson riffled absently through his stack of messages. “Get the hair cut.”

Colton groaned. “Don’t start with my hair.”

The long hair had been an issue from the beginning, but Jackson deferred to a man’s right to look the way he wanted. “You asked, and I’m telling you. Older clients balk when they see long curly strands on a man. They
figure he’s either a would-be hippie or some kind of heavy-metal rocker.”

“Jackson—”

“I don’t want to talk about your hair,” he broke in. “That’s your business, anyway. I’ve got something important to tell you.”

He told him about Emily and his daughter, and Colton’s eyes grew wide. “You have a daughter?” Colton breathed incredulously.

“Yes,” he admitted, liking the sound of that more and more. “And I’m flying back to Houston as soon as Nancy can get me on a flight. I need you to handle things while I’m away.”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll put my hair in a ponytail or something.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said teasingly. “That’ll help tremendously.” He stood and handed Colton his messages. “You take care of these. I’ve got to pack. I’ll check in every day.”

Colton took the papers. “Okay. Gosh, you have a daughter.”

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to,” Jackson admitted. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Before he could reach the door, Colton asked, “Did Janine get in touch with you?”

Jackson turned with a frown on his face. “Janine? My ex-wife?”

“Yeah.”

“No. What the hell did she want?”

“Well, she came in on Tuesday looking for you. I told her you wouldn’t be back until Friday. She returned yesterday and was a little upset to learn you weren’t here. She asked me to give you a message.”

“And?” he prompted.

“She said she needed to speak with you as soon as possible.”

“Really? What about?”

“She didn’t say. She just said it was important.”

Jackson’s frown deepened. His first impulse was just to leave and worry about calling her later. He and Janine had parted on amicable terms and she had remarried. He hadn’t talked to her in months, but if she’d said it was important, then he had to call. He glanced at his watch. Damn. It seemed that circumstances were conspiring to keep him away from Emily.

“Did she leave a number?”

Colton sifted quickly through the messages in his hand.

“Yeah, here it is.” He handed the slip of paper to Jackson, then walked out.

Jackson called his ex-wife; he reached her office, but she was in court. He left a message on her voice mail, saying he’d be out of town for a few days, but if it was important she could reach him on his cell phone. He gave her the number and hung up.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Janine wanted to talk with him. She was a corporate lawyer, ambitious, driven and fixated on success. At first he was attracted to that, but later it began to wear very thin. Janine had never touched him deep inside, the way Emily had. If she had, he’d still be with her today. It felt good to admit that Emily had such power over his emotions. He had blocked it from his mind for years, until this morning, in fact. But now…

An hour later, Jackson was on a plane to Houston. Once he’d landed, he rented a car and went straight to Emily’s condo, but she wasn’t home. It was Saturday, so where could she be? At the hospital? Out doing errands? He
should’ve called, but he didn’t know exactly what to say. He had to see her face-to-face.

He had no choice but to wait. He thought he’d go insane at the wasted time, but then he saw her neighbor drive up and Jackson got out of his car and went over to her. She was an elderly lady, and she seemed a bit frightened at the sight of a strange man approaching.

“I’m looking for Dr. Cooper,” he said immediately, hoping to reassure her.

She relaxed visibly. “She went home. She left yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Jackson replied, and ran back to his car.

So Emily had gone home to Rockport. He wondered how often she did that and what kind of relationship she had with Rose and Owen. Considering what had happened, it must be strained.

He stopped at a gas station to buy a map and tried to figure out the shortest route to Rockport. Highway 59, he decided, which should get him there in a little more than three hours. As he drove, he went over and over what he was going to say to her, wishing they’d had this talk in Houston. With her family around, it would be much more difficult, but that didn’t deter him. The Coopers probably hated him, but he didn’t care about that, either. He was seeing Emily. She was the only one who could stop him.

E
MILY AND
B
ECCA SPENT
the day shopping. By three o’clock, Emily’s feet ached and she began to despair of ever finding the right dress. Then they saw it in a shop window—a whisper of pink, made of the finest silk. It was strapless with a straight, floor-length skirt, and a slit that ran up one side to above the knee. A beaded short-sleeved jacket went with it. There were also beads on the bodice. The dress was lovely, and from Becca’s reaction, Emily
knew she liked it, too. The price tag was the only drawback, but she couldn’t resist. The dress fit Becca perfectly and Emily bought it without question.