Emily's Daughter

by Linda Warren

  Emily tried to understand, but she couldn’t. Nothing was making sense to her. “Why did you decide to raise my baby when you told me repeatedly that you couldn’t?”

  Rose resumed making tucks in the sheet. “When my baby died, I was severely depressed. As much as I didn’t want her at first, in the end I wanted her with all my heart. I kept thinking it was my punishment for being selfish and I just couldn’t deal with her death. I never told anyone she died. I came home a week after she was born and every day I’d go to the hospital to see her. I continued to do that after her death. Instead of going to the hospital, I went to the cemetery. Since she was born in a big hospital in Corpus, no one in Rockport knew my secret. Owen said I was having a nervous breakdown and I probably was. I kept pretending she was alive, and as the birth of your baby grew near, I suddenly realized that she could be. I’d lost my child, but I wasn’t going to lose my granddaughter. I called the adoption agency and canceled everything. Then when my aunt called and said you were in labor, we went to San Antonio. Your father took care of you and I took care of the baby. She looked so much like my Rebecca that I named her Rebecca, too. It was crazy, insane, I can see that now. But then…all I wanted was a baby.”

  Emily put a hand to her throbbing head. “I don’t understand why no one at the hospital knew the adoption was canceled. The nurse who was with me during delivery knew nothing about it. She even talked about how I was doing the right thing.”

  “She didn’t know because I didn’t tell hospital personnel until after you delivered. I just told them there wouldn’t be an adoption…that we’d be taking the baby home.”

  “You were there when my baby was born?” Emily asked in a pained voice, even though she knew the answer. At the time she’d felt so alone and her parents were there all along, waiting to snatch her baby.

  “Yes, I was the first one to hold her. The day you were released, I stayed in the nursery and filled out forms while Owen took care of you. I was afraid one of the nurses might say something as you were leaving, but everything went smoothly. After Owen left you at my aunt’s, we took the baby and came back to Rockport. Once we got home, I felt I’d done the right thing. She was so much like my Rebecca.”

  Becca made an agitated movement. Jackson wished he could make all this go away for her and Emily, but he couldn’t and he felt so helpless and angry. Angry at what this woman had done to their lives.

  “But she wasn’t your Rebecca. She was mine,” Emily cried from the deepest part of her soul. “You knew how much I wanted to keep her. Why didn’t you tell me? Why?”

  Rose raised her eyes to Emily. “Owen wanted me to, but if I’d done that, you would’ve forgotten about your dream of being a doctor.”

  “You could’ve taken care of her while I went to school,” Emily said.

  “You went to school in Austin, and if I’d told you, you would’ve taken the baby from me. At the time, I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t. I was too depressed. Rebecca was the only thing that saved me.”

  Emily had a hard time grasping how her mother had accomplished all this. “Didn’t you need Rebecca’s birth certificate for school and things?”

  “I used my Rebecca’s,” she murmured.

  “So you kept it a secret all these years and you never felt the need to tell me. Even when I was going through hell, you did nothing to help me. How can you justify that?”

  “I can’t, but I could see how happy and healthy Rebecca was and how successfully your career had developed. I knew I’d done the right thing for all of us, and it was—until now. If you’d just left everything alone, no one would ever have known.”

  “I had a right to know,” Emily said in a burst of anger. “I had a right to know my own child. Jackson had a right to know his daughter. You took that away from us.”

  Rose brushed at her tears. “I hope you can find a way to forgive me.”

  “No.” Emily raised one hand, suddenly rejecting the forgiveness she’d said they had to have. “Don’t ask me to forgive you. I’m so raw inside that every word hurts like hell. I’m not sure I’ll ever get past that.” She turned and ran from the room.

  Jackson immediately went after her. Becca followed.

  “Rebecca,” Rose called, but Becca didn’t answer or go back.

  Jackson caught Emily in the hall and held her. She trembled and he held her tighter. The truth was tearing them all apart, and Jackson had a hard time controlling his own emotions. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Becca standing there like a lost soul. Of the three of them, Becca was the most affected. He and Emily had made bad choices, bad decisions, and they had to live with that. But Becca was an innocent victim.

  Jackson motioned to her and she walked over and he enclosed her in their embrace. As before, on the beach, they held each other.

  Finally Jackson said, half humorously, “Ready to go, ladies?”

  The drive to the Cooper house was again made in silence. When they reached the house and Becca had gone inside, Emily caught Jackson’s arm. “I need this time with Becca…alone. I have to talk to her.”

  There was that word again, alone, and he was beginning to hate it.

  “Don’t push me away, Emily.”

  “Jackson, please,” she begged. “I’m not doing that. Becca is filled with so much anger that she’s about to explode. I have to help her through this.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I can?”

  She licked dry lips. “She hardly knows you. I’ve known her all her life, and I know her inside and out. Please understand. We have to do what’s best for Becca.”

  “She needs both of us,” he said in a patient voice, trying not to feel hurt, trying to understand.

  She rubbed his face with the back of her hand. At her loving touch, he knew he’d do what she asked. He wanted them to be together, but he was realistic enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t going to happen quickly or easily. Just wanting something didn’t ensure that it would come about.

  “Yes, she does,” Emily murmured. “But as I said before, we have to go slow and I desperately need to explain my part in all this. I need her forgiveness.”

  Her voiced quavered and he gathered her close and kissed her. “You have tonight,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Thank you,” she whispered back.

  He got into the car and drove away. She watched until he was out of sight then went inside to talk to Becca.

  She wasn’t in the living room. Emily found her in the bedroom, sprawled across the bed sound asleep. It had been a long, trying day and Becca was completely exhausted. Emily quietly closed the door and walked into the living room and curled up on the sofa. She couldn’t sleep. Instead, she got out the photo albums and looked through them. She had a need to see her child. There was Becca lying in a crib and Emily couldn’t take her eyes off the small baby. She remembered the first time she’d held her, and how right it had felt. She’d thought it was because she’d given away her own child that she’d experienced such closeness, but it was so much more. She turned the pages, seeing Becca as a toddler, as a little girl, as a teenager and a young woman. A sob burned her throat and she held the pictures to her chest as if to absorb them. She didn’t have to, though—she’d been there, through all those years. Yet everything had changed. It was so different now.

  Because Becca was her daughter.

  This baby, the precious baby with the big brown eyes, was hers. Jackson had to see these, she decided, and began to take favorite ones out of the album for him to keep. She knew he’d want them. With the pictures around her, she felt her eyelids begin to droop. The day had taken its toll on her, too, and within minutes she drifted off to sleep.

  ON THE WAY TO HIS HOTEL room, Jackson realized he was hungry. He started to go back, to see if Emily and Becca wanted something to eat. They hadn’t eaten a thing all day, but he knew they could manage on their own. He wouldn’t interrupt them. He picked up some fast food and took it to his room.

  After eating
, he was restless. He wanted to be with them, but he had to respect Emily’s wishes. He hadn’t talked to his father in two days, so he called. He had to explain what had happened. When he’d begun the search for their daughter, he’d never imagined she’d be so close, and he knew Emily hadn’t, either. They were still reeling from the impact. He hoped he could make his dad understand that.

  As usual, George understood, but he wasn’t too patient. He wanted to see his granddaughter. He used the line about not getting any younger, but Jackson was able to persuade him to wait. They had to wait for Becca to adjust and they couldn’t force her. She wasn’t a child anymore.

  Jackson went to sleep with images of Emily in his mind—the way she’d been in San Antonio. He remembered their happiness and their passion, their joy in each other. They would be that way again and they would have their daughter to make their lives complete. He clung to that.

  OWEN ENTERED THE HOUSE and found Emily asleep on the sofa. He gathered up the pictures and laid them on the coffee table. He then got a blanket out of the hall closet and covered her. After checking on Rebecca, he went to his own room.

  Emily stirred early that Monday morning and wondered who’d put the blanket over her. Her father, of course. He always used to do that when she fell asleep watching TV. God, it seemed like forever since her parents had loved her and the world was simple. Now everything was so complicated and…

  The smell of coffee tantalized her senses and she realized the kitchen light was on and her father was up. He appeared with two cups of coffee and handed her one. She pushed herself into a sitting position and took the cup.

  Owen sat beside her in his customary jeans and plaid shirt. He sipped his coffee, then said, “What we did was wrong. I knew that all along, but I couldn’t stop it. When we lost the baby, I think Rose lost her mind and she was completely out of control. I didn’t know how to help her. Your baby was the only thing that gave her a reason to live. That doesn’t excuse anything or make it right. I’m just sorry for all the pain we put you through. You’re my daughter and I should’ve stood up to Rose, but I’ve never been very good at saying no to her.”

  Emily just drank her coffee. She didn’t know what to say.

  “If you can’t forgive us, I’ll understand, but I hope that as time goes by we’ll find a way to mend the pain and suffering. We’re a family and that’s what a family does.”

  Her father had probably never talked to her for this long about anything except fishing, which showed her how important it was to him. He was fighting to keep his family together and she was fighting to have one. Maybe there was a common ground.

  “I can’t live with the anger and resentment,” she told him. “I see it in Becca and it’s destructive. I want more for Becca and myself than that.”

  “Please talk to your mother again. We have to forgive and forget.”

  He was right. She’d find no peace without forgiveness. Somehow, she had to forgive her mother, and she prayed that Becca would forgive her. The forgiving would come gradually; but the forgetting would be hard. Time—she needed time.

  “I’ll talk to Mom,” she said quietly.

  “Thank you, Emily. I know you have a good heart.” He paused, then asked, “What about Jackson?”

  “I love Jackson and he’s going to be part of my life…and Becca’s.”

  “I see.” He looked down into his cup. “Then you’re going to take her away from us.” There was sadness in his voice, but she had to persevere.

  She took a deep breath. “From now on, I will be her mother and you and Mom will be her grandparents—the way it should have been from the beginning.”

  “It’s difficult to change years of caring and loving someone.”

  “I know, but I also know that you and Mom will try to make this easy for Becca and me.” She didn’t know any such thing. She was just hoping they wouldn’t throw unnecessary hurdles in her way.

  “Yes, we will.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll check on Becca.”

  “Thank you, Emily Ann. You’re very gracious.”

  As she looked into her father’s eyes, she noticed that the disappointment she’d seen for so many years was gone. In a moment of clarity, she realized it hadn’t been disappointment in her but in himself. He hated what they’d done to her. That was the reason for the coolness and strain over the years. A weight lifted from her shoulders—the weight of guilt. She let out a long breath and got to her feet.

  As she walked down the hall to Becca’s room, she felt a sense of renewal, but she knew it would take a lot more than that.

  Becca was still sprawled across the bed, her long hair everywhere, her face turned toward Emily. She sat down to study it. So many emotions filled her and it was an effort not to break down. This was her baby, her child. Why had she never suspected it? Why hadn’t she recognized her own daughter? The pain in her heart wouldn’t allow her to, she told herself, but at least she and Becca had always had a close relationship. The bond was there, although neither had guessed its true significance.

  She concentrated on each of Becca’s features. The dark hair, eyes and olive complexion she got from her, but where did she get that short upturned nose and the full lips? Emily’s nose was pert and her lips more bow-shaped. Jackson didn’t have that nose or mouth, either. Who—

  Suddenly Becca’s eyes opened and she stared sleepily at Emily. She sat up, a frown replacing the blank look. “What are you doing?” she asked in a harsh voice.

  “Watching you sleep.”

  “Jeez, that’s weird.”

  Emily pushed backward and rested against the head-board. “It might be, but everything’s a little weird right now.”

  “You can say that again.” Becca sighed irritably.

  Sleep hadn’t helped her attitude and Emily knew they had to talk—sooner rather than later. “Feel like talking?”

  “About what?” Becca asked glibly.

  “About the fact that you and I are mother and daughter.”

  “So?”

  “I want you to understand my part in this.”

  “You already told me, remember? You said you were weak and couldn’t stand up to Mom, so you gave me away. Isn’t that what you said?”

  Emily drew a quick breath. “Yes, I said that.”

  “What else is there to say?”

  “Forgiveness, Becca. We need to talk about forgiveness.”

  Becca shrugged offhandedly. “I forgive you. Is that what you want to hear?” She moved to get off the bed, but Emily caught her hands and stopped her.

  “No, I don’t want to hear it in that tone of voice. I want to hear it when it comes from here.” She placed her hand over Becca’s heart.

  Becca pulled away and fear knotted Emily’s stomach, but she had to keep trying.

  “We have to be able to forgive in order to go on.”

  Becca’s dark eyes narrowed. “Can you forgive Mom?”

  “Yes. I’m going to the hospital today to tell her that. I have to. It’s the only way to face the future.” She paused. “You have to forgive her, too.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled unenthusiastically, and Emily knew that was as good as she was likely to get.

  “Now, let’s talk about the future.”

  Becca scowled. “What future?”

  “I have to go back to my practice in a few days and I’m not leaving you here.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve got three more weeks of school and there’ll be lots of parties, plus graduation. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The knot in Emily’s stomach tightened and she couldn’t breathe. Becca had never talked to her in that tone of voice and it was getting to her, breaking down every defense, every strength she’d built up.

  She said the first thing that came into her head. “Jackson and I have waited a long time to find you and—”

  “Well, then go sleep with him and leave me alone,” Becca snapped. She tried to jump off the bed, but Emily grabbed her.

&
nbsp; “Listen to me, young lady. I’m not leaving you. If you don’t understand anything else, you’d better understand that.”

  Becca clamped her lips tight in a mutinous expression and Emily knew this conversation was over—for now. She slid off the bed, saying, “Breakfast’s in ten minutes. I believe you have school today.” With that, she walked out the door. She had to. She was close to losing her temper.

  In the kitchen, Emily had to take several deep breaths. Becca was hurting, she reminded herself; that was understandable. She just had to be patient. Becca would come around.

  Becca walked into the room and sat at the kitchen table, not looking at Emily as she poured cereal into a bowl. Emily was glad Owen had already gone to the hospital. She had to try talking to Becca again.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said as she took the chair across from her. “It would be very inconsiderate of me to expect you to pack up and leave when there’s so much going on in your life at school.”

  “I’ll say,” Becca muttered, pouring milk over her cereal.

  “So until school is out, I’ll make the commute to Houston each day.”

  “What?” Becca stopped eating and stared at her with big eyes.

  “I plan on being here when you wake up in the morning and when you go to bed at night.”

  Becca shoved back her chair and took an angry stance. “How many times have I begged you to come home because Mom was ranting and raving about something stupid and I couldn’t take any more? But you always made excuses like I can’t or I’m too busy. And now, all of a sudden, you’re willing to come home every day for her. For her you’ll come home.” She screamed the last part and ran out the back door.