Chapter 21
“Hello, Leila.” Samantha drew in a shaky breath and flittered a nervous smile. “How are you doing?”
“What are you doing here?” Leila’s voice was hard and her stance defensive.
Her sister withered beneath her glare, but she didn’t turn away. “I came to see…my daughter.”
“Well, she doesn’t want to see you.” She slammed the door and stood behind it quaking with anger.
Sam knocked and rang the doorbell. “Let me in, Leila. I’m not going anywhere until you do,” she shouted through the door.
“Of course, you’ll leave. That’s what you’re good at, remember?”
“Look, Leila. I know you’re angry—”
“You think?” she screamed. “You dropped a baby off in my house with a lousy letter and disappeared for three months, and you think you can just waltz back here like nothing happened?”
Samantha didn’t answer.
“What’s going on?” Garrick asked, stepping into the foyer with a wide-eyed Emma in his arms.
Leila’s stern expression collapsed at the beautiful image they posed and her heart squeezed at the thought of it being taken away.
Concern was written in the tiny lines around Garrick’s eyes.
“Leila, please let me in,” Samantha begged softly through the door.
“Who’s at the door?” he asked.
Tears welled in Leila’s eyes as she stared at them, but she couldn’t make herself answer Garrick’s question. When he headed toward her, she could do no more than shake her head.
“Let me see who’s at the door,” he said.
She thought about standing her ground; but when she realized that would only delay the inevitable, she moved aside.
Garrick opened the door.
Samantha blinked and straightened in surprise. “Oh, hello.”
He slammed the door. “Is that who I think it is?”
Leila nodded. “It’s Samantha.”
“What is she doing here?”
“What do you think?”
They glanced at Emma, who gibbered as if she were holding an intelligent conversation.
“Guys, please let me in. I need to see Emma.”
Garrick’s and Leila’s gazes landed on one another, their reluctance clearly written on their faces.
“We’re going to have to let her in,” he said.
“Says who?”
He cocked his head and narrowed his gaze.
“All right. Fine. Let her in.” Leila crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “But she’s not leaving here with Emma.”
With a tight smile, Garrick opened the door.
Samantha jumped. When her gaze shifted to her daughter, she gasped and cupped a hand across her mouth. “Oh, she’s gotten so big.”
“Oh, spare me the dramatics,” Leila sneered. She walked over to Garrick and withdrew Emma from his arms. “You’re not taking her.” Leila spun and walked away.
“I’m her mother,” Sam said, crossing the threshold.
“A fact you forgot three months ago,” Garrick said.
Sam’s head jerked toward him. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
“No. But your daughter does.” He shut the door.
“Right.” She injected steel into her backbone. “If you don’t mind, this is a private conversation between me and my sister.”
Fury glinted in his dark eyes and when he took a menacing step forward, Sam retreated. “But I do mind, Sam. I’ve come to care a great deal about what happens to your daughter and what you put your sister through.”
She drew an angry breath, yet she clamped her mouth shut and stormed after her sister. “Do you mind getting your guard dog off my butt so we can talk?” she asked Leila when she exploded into the living room.
Leila warred with the request while she still clutched Emma in her arms.
“No need.” Garrick tossed up his hands. “I was just about to go jump in the shower anyway.” He backed up as his hard gaze stabbed Sam. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
Leila rolled her eyes and patiently waited until she heard the bedroom door click closed upstairs. “You have some nerve showing up like this.”
“I miss my daughter.”
“I could care less,” she snapped. Her body vibrated with rage. Confused, Emma twisted her face and began to cry. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
Sam stepped forward with her arms outstretched. “Let me—”
“When hell freezes over.”
“She can sense you’re upset,” Sam admonished as she moved forward. “Right, wrong or indifferent, she’s still my daughter. Let me see her.” Again, she held out her arms.
When Emma leaned forward to go to her, Leila winced from the sting of betrayal.
“Aw. You missed your mommy, too?” Sam cooed at her daughter.
Leila composed herself despite the fact her vision blurred with tears. “Why are you doing this? Why did you…?”
“Why did I have to come back?” Sam finished the question for her. “Isn’t the answer obvious? I made a mistake.”
“You mean you made another mistake.” Leila turned and marched over to the fireplace. She extracted Sam’s letter from the top of the mantel and turned back toward her. “Shall I read from the good book of Sam about the last mistake?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Why, sure it is, since you like to change your mind about motherhood just as often as I had to change Emma’s diaper.” She unfolded the letter and read in her best dramatic voice. “Dear Leila, I’m sorry.” She peered over the thin piece of paper. “No argument here so far.”
“Leila—”
“Like me, motherhood was never a part of your plans. However, unlike me, your decision wasn’t based on the fact that you would make a lousy mother, but simply because you’re married to your career.” Leila held up a finger. “Here comes my favorite part—I, on the other hand, am a screwup. I always have been.”
“All right, you made your point,” Sam shouted.
Once again, Emma started to cry.
Before Leila or Sam could react, a door slammed and the rush of heavy footsteps echoed through the house. Next thing they knew, Garrick was across the hallway, down the steps and in the living room.
“I’ll take her,” he said, pulling Emma into his arms with a look that dared Sam to object.
Emma instantly quieted as she rode back up the stairs in her uncle Garrick’s arms. When the door slammed again, Samantha looked to her older sister. “Who is that guy?”
“A…friend.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose with disbelief. “Just a friend, huh?”
Leila crumpled the letter in her hand. “Don’t turn this around. I don’t have to explain myself—you do. You have another thing coming if you think you can waltz in here and I’m just going to hand Emma over to you.”
Sam’s demeanor cooled. “We can always call the police and see what they’ll say. I’ll bet you they’ll give me my daughter.”
Calmly, Leila walked up to her sister, stared her down and, without thinking, whipped her open palm hard across Sam’s face.
Sam’s head snapped back and her eyes instantly glossed with tears as she placed a hand over her cheek.
Leila gasped when she realized what she’d done.
“Do you feel better now?” Sam croaked.
Leila dropped her gaze to stare at her hand. What was she doing? Why did she let Sam get the best of her? She choked on a sob as she sat down on the sofa. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”
Her sister hovered above her in silence, and then sank onto the cushion next to her. “That’s all right. I deserved it—and much more.”
“Does that mean I can hit you again?”
Sam looked up to see if she was serious and inched away in precaution.
“I was joking,” Leila said without a hint of amusement.
“Sure you were.” She scooted away some more. “That’s quite an arm you have
there.”
Leila smiled, but then caught herself. “Don’t get all charming on me now,” she said seriously. “What you did…was unforgivable. What you’re doing—?”
“I know. I know. But…I truly thought that I was doing the right thing when I brought Emma here. C’mon, you know I’ve never stayed in one place long, I can’t hold down a job, and I always fall for the wrong men.”
“Who’s her father?”
Suddenly, Sam found her toes fascinating. “His name is Emmanuel James.”
“Does he know about Emma?”
Samantha didn’t answer.
Leila rolled her eyes and wondered why she’d asked.
“I know I should have told you and Roslyn about Emma, but I just didn’t want to sit through another speech about how much of a screwup I am.”
“So dropping her off in my kitchen was a better idea?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s my point.” Leila jumped to her feet and paced again. “You never think things through. And how could you do it—especially what we went through after Mom—”
“I know. I know.”
“Apparently not! Did you forget how many nights you cried when she abandoned us? How many times did you ask me whether it was your fault? Fast forward and you chose to do the same thing to your daughter? What did you expect for me to tell her when she got older? What did you want me to say when she asked whether it was her fault?”
Tears raced down her sister’s plump cheeks.
“You’re back now—but for how long? Six months from now will you think that you made another mistake?”
“No.” Sam firmly shook her head.
“How can you be so sure?” Her words turned bitter on her tongue. “You’re no better than she was. You’re just like Momma—selfish to the end.”
“No. I’m not like her,” Sam said, standing. “I came back.”
Chapter 22
Leila watched Sam and Emma from her bedroom window as they pulled out of her driveway. The experience felt as if someone were taking an ice pick to her heart and chipping it out one piece at a time. She sucked in a brave breath, but her chin trembled uncontrollably.
I should have seen this coming. I should have been better prepared.
“It’s going to be all right.”
Garrick looped a protective arm around her shoulders and she quickly shrugged it off. “I think you better go now.” She turned away and raced to the bathroom. At the toilet, she dropped to her knees and threw up.
Garrick was a mere second behind her. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head and spewed out the last remnants of Tamara’s meatloaf. Her stomach cramped, her head ached and a river of tears gushed down her eyes. How could she not know how badly she wanted something until it was taken away?
Through her sobs, she heard water running in the sink. Soon after, a cool towel was placed against her face.
“It’s all right,” Garrick assured, wiping her face. “You’ll see. Everything will be all right.”
“How do you know?” Leila’s voice croaked and she took the towel from him to finish doing the job herself.
“Because I know you’ve gotten through worse things.” He fought not to be hurt by her accusatory eyes or her hard tone. “Emma is still your niece. You’ll see her again.”
A pathetic laugh escaped her as she shook her head at his ignorance concerning Sam. “Maybe—maybe not.” She tried to stand up. When he offered his arm to assist, she didn’t take it.
Garrick struggled to understand what was happening and was having a devil of a time hanging on to his patience. Leila maneuvered around him to the sink, taking great care to avoid contact.
“You mind telling me what’s going on?” he asked, crossing his arms.
She grabbed her toothbrush and her tube of toothpaste. “What does it look like?”
“Honestly? It looks like you’re going through great extremes to piss me off.” He folded his arms when she didn’t respond but turned on the water.
He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. However, he failed to calm down, so he tried it again. “Talk to me,” he said softly, and then looked over at her again.
Leila scrubbed her teeth as if she held a vicious vendetta against them. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she garbled around the toothbrush.
“I’m trying to be here for you, but you’re treating me like I had something to do with this.”
She spat into the sink and reached for the mouthwash.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
She turned up a Dixie cup of mouthwash and swished it around.
“I don’t have time for this. You can call me when you’re ready to talk.” He stomped out of the bathroom and combed the bedroom for his shoes.
Leila stormed right behind him, jerked open her drawers, and began hurling his clothes at him.
“What the—?”
“There’s no reason for you to keep leaving your stuff here. You just live across the street.”
A pair of jeans smacked him against the head. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Why does it have to be something wrong with me? I’m simply saying you have a perfectly good house across the street with a perfectly good bedroom with a perfectly functional chest of drawers,” she said, ending in almost hysteria.
He froze, not sure how he should proceed, but fully realized he stood in a dangerous minefield. “Leila, I know you’re upset with Samantha—”
“I’m not upset!” She threw clothes at him—the majority of them belonged to her.
“Let’s sit down so we can talk about it?”
She pivoted and stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. “If I’m not upset, why do I need to talk?”
Because you’re losing your marbles.
“Look,” she attempted in a more patient tone, “I just want you to keep your things at your place—in fact why don’t you stay there from now on?”
Stunned, he stared at her. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Well.” She shifted her weight, crossed, and recrossed her arms. “There’s no real reason for us to keep playing house anymore.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Oh, come off of it.” She paced. “You liked it over here because it was a nice ready-made family so you could live out your dreams of being a father—or an uncle.”
“That’s b.s. and you know it!”
“Oh, please.” She stopped pacing and returned to throwing everything out of her drawers.
“I like it over here because apparently I’m attracted to crazy women.”
“Oh, now I’m crazy?”
“Are you kidding me? Is this a real argument? You have to be the most neurotic woman I’ve ever met.”
“It’s over, Garrick. The last three months was nothing but a lie. I allowed myself to get caught up in some stupid fantasy when I should have known better. In the end everyone leaves me. My father, my mother, and my sisters.”
“I don’t understand—your sisters?”
She stopped what she was doing and leaned against her vanity table. “After…It was just the three of us for a long time. The state didn’t break us up. We managed to bounce to and fro in the same foster homes. When I turned eighteen, I got my own place. My sisters were allowed to live with me. It didn’t last long. Roslyn married Patrick before she even graduated from high school—and Samantha hightailed it a year later. And as you know, she never stays in one place long.” She finally faced him again. “The only thing that’s been constant in my life has been my magazine.” She shook her head and mumbled to herself. “And here I was thinking about giving that up.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Leila raked her hands through her hair—it sort of reminded him of the first time he’d met her. He stepped forward, but she stopped him with a look.
“Emma’s gone,” she said. “And now it’s time for me to get back to my life
.”
“I would never stop you from living your life.”
“Not intentionally. But why waste your time? We want different things. You want a family and I don’t.”
“That’s not true.” He gazed into her troubled brown eyes and saw the vulnerable child within. “I saw how you lit up with Emma. I’ve witnessed the transformation in you and how you took care of her.”
“And where did that leave me? Standing here in my bedroom, feeling like I did when I read my mother’s suicide letter.”
Garrick’s tears stung the backs of his eyes. “If you’re looking at me for some type of guarantee, I can’t—”
“That’s right. You can’t.” Leila drew a deep breath and suddenly had a hard time meeting his eyes. “If I thought that we—that you could handle a no-strings-attached kind of relationship or that you could accept being runner-up to my job—”
“Leila, don’t do this.” He braced himself for heartbreak, but had no clue on how to go about doing that. “You’re upset and you’re saying things that you don’t mean.”
“I want a clean break,” she said and nearly choked on a sob. “I want my old life back. The one before Emma or you came along.”
Garrick clenched his teeth as he glared at her. “Your wish is my command.” He turned.
“Wait,” she called after him.
Against his will, a small bubble of hope rose.
“Don’t forget your stuff,” she added softly.
The callous way she dismissed him—and what had transpired between them—hardened something within him. He turned back and glanced at everything thrown across the room before he looked at her. “Keep it. I don’t want anything that reminds me of you.”
Chapter 23
“You don’t think you might be overreacting?” Orlando asked, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. “I mean, you just moved here.”
“The place is too big for one person,” Garrick lied, knowing his brother wouldn’t buy it. “I purchased a condominium in Buckhead that cuts my drive time to the office in half. Plus, I’ll be closer to you and Tamara.”
She’s My Baby Page 13