by Linda Warren
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.
EMILY AND BECCA 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.
As she waited for Becca to change, she thought about her own daughter. Was she getting ready for her prom? Did she have someone to buy her a beautiful dress? Emily prayed she did and that she had a loving mother who supported her and was always there for her. She bit her lip to choke back the emotions swelling in her throat, but it didn’t help.
No, no, she screamed inside. She’s my daughter. I love her. She doesn’t need anyone else.
Hysteria was threatening her composure, and she pulled herself together. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. Her mother was right—although she couldn’t admit it to Rose. She spent money on Becca to ease her own guilt, but nothing would ever take away the enormous burden she carried. Becca’s bright smile made a difference, though. Yes, it made a great difference.
It was after six by the time they reached home. Becca ran to her room to change into the dress to show her parents. She came back twirling round and round in the pink silk—except she’d forgotten the jacket. Rose’s mouth fell open at her daughter’s naked shoulders and exposed leg.
Rose glared at Emily in outrage. “She’s not wearing that! She looks like a slut.”
Tears welled up in Becca’s eyes and Emily went to her side. “It has a jacket. She just forgot to put it on,” Emily said, and whispered to Becca, “You’d better have forgotten, because if you did it on purpose, I’m going to strangle you.”
Becca charged back to her room and came out with the jacket on.
“See,” Emily said. “It looks nice.”
“It doesn’t look bad, Rose,” Owen put in.
“No.” Rose shook her head. “She’s not wearing it. It’s too skimpy for a girl her age.”
“Rose,” Owen pleaded, to no avail.
“I said she’s not wearing it, and that’s final. You know how she is. As soon as she’s out the door, the jacket will come off and she’ll do what she pleases.”
“Mom, this is really too much.” Emily spoke up, trying to keep her temper. “All young girls wear strapless dresses these days.”
Rose pointed a finger at her. “This is your fault. You spoil her, then she’s uncontrollable.”
“Stop it, stop it!” Becca screamed at the top of her lungs. “Em bought me this dress and I’m wearing it. I don’t care what you say. And if you keep on, I’ll just move out. Ginger’s mom said I could move in with them.”
Emily gaped at Becca. She had never mentioned this and Emily wondered if this was true or just an attempt to get back at Rose. She had a suspicion it was the latter.
Rose reached for the oxygen mask, gasping for breath. Emily started to go to her, but then she didn’t. Rose only needed to calm down.
Finally Rose removed the mask and looked
helplessly at Becca. “You talked to Ginger’s mother about moving out?”
“Yes,” Becca answered defiantly. “And I’ll do it, too. She’s a nice lady and she trusts Ginger.”
“She’s been married three times and she works in a bar,” Rose told her in a belligerent tone. “I’d die before I’d let you live with that kind of woman.” Rose reached for the mask again.
“She’s not a saint like you are, but—”
Emily walked over and put her arm around Becca’s shoulder, stopping her in midsentence. “That’s enough,” she said mildly.
Becca stomped her foot. “She makes me want to scream, pull my hair out, do something violent. I can’t take anymore. I—”
The ringing of the doorbell startled everyone. After a moment, Owen opened the door and Emily’s world came crashing down around her feet. Jackson stood on the threshold looking nervous and devastatingly handsome in jeans and a cotton print shirt. Her stomach churned with a gut-wrenching cry. Jackson is here. He’d come back. That could mean only one thing. He wanted to talk about their daughter.
“Mr. Cooper, I’d like to speak with Emily, please.” When she heard his deep voice, her heart began to race and her palms to sweat.
“Oh, my God,” Rose cried, staring at Jackson, finally recognizing him. She turned to Emily. “What’s he doing here?”
Emily couldn’t say anything. She was gazing wordlessly at Jackson, hoping he’d decided to forgive her.
Rose noticed the look. “You’ve been seeing him behind my back, haven’t you? I thought you had more sense than that.”
“Who is he?” Becca whispered in her ear, but Emily was frozen somewhere between the past and the present, and nothing registered but the pleasant memories that floated through her mind—Jackson smiling at her, stealing kisses and loving her until nothing else mattered.
“Tell him to leave, Owen.” Her mother’s voice cut into her like a knife, jerking her back to reality.
“No.” Emily found her voice and walked to the door.
“Emily Ann,” Rose called in a threatening voice, but Emily ignored her.
“I’ll talk to him,” she told her father, and he moved aside with a worried frown.
Emily stepped onto the porch, closing the door. Her nerves glowed like fireflies as she watched him. She felt as though they were kids again, wanting so much and not knowing that wants were accompanied by responsibilities. They were adults now and responsibility lay heavily upon them. She could see that in his eyes. The anger and disgust had been replaced with a desire for answers.
“Why are you here?” she asked even though she knew. She had to say something to ease her jittery nerves.
“To talk. I need to talk to you.” The words came out in a rush.
She needed that, too, but with her mother acting the way she was, Emily had to acknowledge it wasn’t the right time.
“I can’t at the moment. Things are rather…tense, as you probably heard.”
“Yes, your mother hasn’t changed much over the years.” Jackson grasped a little more of what she must have gone through when she discovered she was pregnant. He cursed himself again for not being there for her at that difficult time.
“I have to deal with my family first.”
“I understand,” he said, to her shock. “I’ll get a room over at the Holiday Inn and wait for you.”
“Jackson…”
“We have to talk in private, Emily. Surely you can see that.”
“Yes.” She’d already made that decision, but she had to talk to her mother before she could do anything else.
Would Rose always rule her life? No, she told herself firmly, but she did have obligations she couldn’t ignore. “I’ll come as soon as I get free.”
With that, Emily turned and went back into the house, ready to face another ugly scene, but this time she would tell her mother the truth. There would be no more secrets. Jackson knew, the way he should have years ago. She had to make this clear to Rose, prepare her for what might lie ahead—what Jackson might choose to do.
Even Emily didn’t know what that was.
CHAPTER SEVEN
EMILY ALMOST RAN into Becca when she entered the house. “Em, come quick! Mom’s having trouble breathing.”
Rose lay in the recliner gasping for each breath. “Can’t…breathe…can’t…”
“Shh,” Emily said as she took her pulse. “Save your strength.” Rose’s heart was racing alarmingly. “Becca, get her heart medicine.”
In a second Becca was back with a small bottle. Emily removed a pill and placed it beneath her mother’s tongue. “Relax and try to breathe normally. Just relax,” Emily coaxed. She motioned to Becca. “Get my medical bag.”
After Becca had brought the bag, Emily removed her stethoscope and listened to Rose’s heart. As she expected, the heart rate was already slowing down to a normal beat.
She looked at her father and Becca, who were waiting anxiously. “She’s fine now. Stress brings on these spells.” She paused, then added, “I need to talk to Mom alone.”
Owen headed for the kitchen.
Becca hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Go to your room. I’ll talk to you in a minute.” Emily’s voice was unyielding and Becca didn’t argue.
“Jeez, what did I do?” she grumbled as she obeyed.
Very deliberately, Emily took her mother’s hand and held it. “I’m going to talk, and I want you to listen. Okay? Without interrupting me.”
Rose nodded.
Emily told her about meeting Jackson again and about the reason he hadn’t come back, and finally she confessed that she’d told him about their baby.
“Why, Emily Ann?” Rose asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why would you tell him now?”
“Because he’s her father and he has a right to know.”
“But what good will it do?”
Emily looked down at her mother’s frail hand in hers and knew she was lying. That had to stop. She had to stop lying to herself and to Rose. “The truth is, I told him for purely selfish reasons—my own selfish reasons.”
“What are you talking about?”
She gripped her mother’s hand. “Ever since I gave her up for adoption, I’ve had these dreams where she’s running away from me. I try to catch her so I can see her face, but before I do, I always wake up. I’ve never seen her face and I never will. I’ve never held her or touched her and…” Her voice trembled on the last word.
“Oh, Emily Ann, I never realized it affected you so deeply,” her mother cried with heartfelt sympathy, and Emily soaked up her compassion.
“Mom.” Her voice was incredulous. “I gave away my child. A child I carried for almost nine months. A child I talked to every day of that time, telling her how much I loved her and so many other things. When she was taken from me, I felt an emptiness and a loss that’s never been filled, and I don’t think it ever will be.”
Silence followed.
“And, of course, you blame me,” Rose said quietly. Just like that, the old Rose was back.
Emily drew a hard breath. “I wish I could say that I didn’t, but I’d be lying. Part of me will always blame you for the pressure, but in the end it was my decision and I didn’t have the strength to stand up for myself or my daughter.”
Silence again.
“How is seeing Jackson Talbert again going to change that?”
Emily thought for a minute. “I’m not sure it will, but I have this need to share her with Jackson. He loves her as much as I do and he’s feeling the same emptiness and loss.”
Rose’s eyes opened wide. “You think he loves your baby?”
“Of course” was her immediate response.
Rose squeezed her hand. “Don’t fool yourself about this man.”
“I’m not. We were only together a little while, but I feel as if I know him better than anyone.”
“You’re romanticizing the situation when it was sordid and—”
“No.” Emily sto
pped her. “We were in love and our daughter was a result of that love.”
“You’re fooling yourself,” her mother repeated.
Emily patted her hand and got to her feet, not wanting to argue. “If I am, that’s okay. I’m thirty-five years old and capable of making my own decisions and mistakes. I can handle whatever lies ahead.” She looked at her mother. “I’m going to have a talk with Becca, then—”
Rose sat up straight. “Why do you need to talk to Rebecca?”
“Because I don’t like her attitude or the way she talks to you.”
Rose relaxed somewhat. “I told you she’s out of control.”
“I don’t agree with that, but I do have a few things to say to her.”
As she turned away, Rose asked, “If I asked you not to see Jackson Talbert again, would you listen to me?”
“No, Mom, I wouldn’t.” She glanced back. “This is my life and you have to let me live it—my way.”
Rose gave a long sigh of regret.
BECCA SAT IN THE MIDDLE of the bed brushing her long hair when Emily entered the room. She had changed out of the prom gown and now wore a baggy T-shirt.
“Is that him?” Becca asked excitedly. “Is that the father of your baby?”
“Yes,” Emily answered, not seeing any reason to deny it.
“Wow, he’s handsome.”
Jackson had always been handsome and charming and everything she’d ever dreamed of in her girlish fantasies. She shook the image from her mind.
“I don’t want to talk about Jackson. I want to talk about you.”
“Jeez.” Becca scowled, lowering the hairbrush. “What did I do?”
“I want to believe you wore the dress out there without the jacket because you were in a hurry, but I’m beginning to think you did it on purpose because you knew how Mom would react.”