Summer at Seaside Cove
Page 34
She raked a hand through her hair. “For the next two months, in order to avoid any potentially awkward scenes, I avoided you as much as possible at work, which given how busy you always were at Newman’s wasn’t difficult. You didn’t look brokenhearted to me, but since you were never the type to wear your heart on your sleeve …” She shrugged. “He told me he loved me, that he was ending things with you, and since that’s what I wanted to hear, I didn’t question the rest.”
“I had no idea there was someone else,” Jamie said, proud that her voice barely trembled, “let alone that someone else was you, until I saw you coming out of his apartment that last morning—wearing the same clothes you’d worn at Newman’s the night before. When I confronted him, he admitted the two of you had been together for two months.”
“If it means anything, I was as shocked to see you as you were to see me. As you know that resulted in your breakup. Even though I was furious with him for not being completely honest with me, I forgave him.” She shook her head, her eyes filled with disbelief. “I swear to God I don’t know what I was thinking. I’d never allowed any man to treat me that way before. Ever. My only defense is that I honestly, truly, and very stupidly loved him. And I thought, even though he’d made mistakes, that he loved me as well.”
Anger suddenly fired in her eyes. “I can’t believe what a fool I was! Even though I felt horrible about what had happened with you, I consoled myself with the fact that at least I’d found my soul mate. And that when you returned to New York I’d try to mend our relationship. And then, four weeks ago, I decided to surprise Raymond with a visit to his apartment.” Twin flags of color stained her cheeks. “I surprised him all right. Him and one of my good friends. I later found out he’d been seeing her the entire time he was seeing me.”
Jamie blinked. “Wait … you mean he was cheating on you the entire time he was cheating on me with you?”
“Yes! That son of a bitch was cheating on both of us.”
Jamie looked into Laurel’s eyes, which positively spit fury. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
They stood facing each other and Jamie watched the rage slowly ebb from Laurel’s eyes to be replaced by a weariness that tugged at her heart. “I know I hurt you and I’m sorry, Jamie. From the depths of my soul, I’m sorry. And deeply ashamed. I’ve done a lot of selfish things in my life, things I’m not proud of, but being with Raymond … it was worse than just selfish, it was wrong. In every way.
“I’ve spent the entire last month thinking,” Laurel continued, “about my life. About the sort of person I am versus the sort I want to be. The sort of mother I want to be. And the sort of sister as well. To my chagrin I realized I was falling far short in an appalling number of areas. And I want, more than anything, to fix that. Have been trying to fix that. I want to be a person I can look at in the mirror and be proud of. I want to be a mother who is there for Heather and sets a good example for her. And I want to be the kind of sister who appreciates what a great sister she had … and hopefully still has.”
Laurel regarded her through solemn eyes. “I can’t promise you I’ll never do or say anything stupid again, but if you’ll forgive me and give me another chance I can promise you that a man will never come between us again. And I’ll try to be the best sister I can be.”
After a brief hesitation, Laurel slowly held out her hand.
Jamie looked at it with her heart thudding in thick, fast beats, and realized that hand was a bridge. To a new beginning. All Jamie had to do was decide if she wanted to cross it.
Maria’s words from the previous day drifted through her mind: Anger poisons the person who holds it. Forgiveness sets us free.
Yes, she’d been hurt, but not maliciously, as she’d believed—Raymond had lied to Laurel as well. He’d hurt both of them, yet in truth, he’d hurt Laurel worse because she’d been in love with him, whereas Jamie had really only been in love with the idea of him—of being swept off her feet by a rich, handsome, charming man.
She wanted to be set free. She didn’t want the poison in her life any longer.
Hot moisture pushed behind her eyes. Instead of taking Laurel’s hand, she opened her arms. Tears filled Laurel’s eyes, and with a half laugh, half cry—a sound that Jamie echoed—Laurel stepped forward and into her embrace.
Chapter 28
The next morning, after everyone had eaten breakfast together at Nick’s—cooked amid much laughter at Southern Comfort because, after all, Nick had the All-Clad pots and pans—Jamie and her mother walked to the beach for one last look at the ocean before her mom and Alex began their drive back to New York.
As they stood at the water’s edge, allowing the cool water to lap at their bare feet, her mom murmured, “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“Anything in particular? I said a lot of things.”
“About coming here to get away from me. About all the pressure I’ve put on you.”
Jamie let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was angry and frustrated when I said that.”
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” She turned to face Jamie. “I want you to be honest with me, Jamie. Have I driven you away? Because you must know, that’s the last thing I would ever want to do.”
Jamie pressed her lips together and took a few seconds to gather her thoughts, because while she wanted to be completely honest, she didn’t want to be hurtful. “I know, Mom. But the unvarnished truth is this—I love being included in your life, and having you in mine, but since Daddy died, you’ve become too dependent on me. It’s been three years, yet you’re still leaning on me as much as you did when he first passed away. Three years ago I understood it, but now … now it needs to stop. You’re a smart woman, perfectly capable of doing things for yourself, yet you want me to make your decisions for you. And I can’t. You need to make your own decisions, based on what’s right for you. And I need to make mine, based on what’s right for me. And you need to respect those decisions. And not put so much pressure on me.”
There. She’d said it—the words she should have said months ago. Or at the very least, when her mother first arrived at Paradise Lost. A sense of calm and peace suffused Jamie, one she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Her mom reached out and took her hands. Gave them a gentle squeeze. “You’re right. Absolutely right. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since you stomped out the other night saying you were done.”
“I’m sorry about leaving that way—”
“Please don’t be. I admit what you said was a slap, but it was one I desperately needed. I also have to admit that when you left New York, I was angry with you. It seemed to me you’d abandoned all your responsibilities—and over a man who wasn’t worth even one of your tears. But mostly I was upset because I felt like you’d abandoned me—just when I needed you the most.”
“I left Newman’s in good hands,” Jamie reminded her. “Nathan is a very capable manager—”
“I know. But this whole situation with Alex … I needed you.”
“As long as we’re being so honest, Mom, I’m glad I didn’t know about your situation at that time, because if I had, I might not have come here. And I desperately needed to get away. To recharge myself. Because what I was doing, how I was living, the decisions I was making, none of it felt good anymore. Nothing felt right. I needed a change. And not just a little one. A catastrophic upheaval was called for.”
“I know that—now. But at the time, I’m afraid I was awash in hormones and only thinking about my own problems, and for that I’m very sorry. They say change is good—of course, I don’t know who ‘they’ are, and I’m not sure they’re right. I do know, at least for me, change is hard. And very scary. And since your father died—my life has been nothing but change.”
She drew a deep breath, then continued, “The worst change is that I feel like you and I have … lost each other a
bit.”
The truth of her mother’s words, as well as the catch in her voice, shamed Jamie. “I guess we have. And it’s mostly my fault. I allowed work and my relationship with Raymond to take over my life.” How many times while she was dating Raymond had her mom invited her over for dinner and she’d said no?
A lot.
How many times had Jamie purposely avoided conversations with her mom because she didn’t want to be involved in any drama or listen to her mom discuss her grieving process—because talking about her dad was hard?
Again, a lot.
But, standing in Nick’s kitchen while they’d prepared the food for the potluck dinner, she’d realized that while listening to her mom talk about her dad was hard, it was also … cathartic.
“I know I’ve leaned on you a great deal since your dad died,” Mom said quietly, “but—”
“We leaned on each other, Mom. When Daddy died, it was a terrible time for me, too.”
“I know, but I’ve continued to lean, and for a very long time now. You’ve had to take on so many things I didn’t know how to do. I should have kept up with all the financial stuff—the investments, the bank accounts, the tax returns, running Newman’s—but your dad always took care of all that. I was still trying to adjust to empty-nest syndrome when he died.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “After you graduated from college and moved into your own apartment, I was truly happy for you, and so proud of the wonderful young woman you’d become. How well you transitioned into the role of managing Newman’s. But a part of me felt … so lost. My little girl was all grown up and on her own. I wasn’t needed as a mom anymore.”
Jamie’s heart felt as if it slipped from its moorings. “I’ll always need you, Mom.”
Her mom shook her head. “But not in the same way you did growing up—which is completely normal. I understand that there’s a natural growing apart, that the mother-daughter relationship changes as we both grow older. My mind knows that, but even though I love being your friend, I still clung to the past because it just hurts when your child grows up and away from you. And it’s not really something you can understand until it happens to you.
“But then, only six months after you moved out, your dad died. And not only was I not a mom any longer, I wasn’t a wife—the two roles that had defined me for more than half my life.”
She let out a shaky breath. “What I’m trying to say, is I really appreciate how much you’ve helped me with everything. You always have—even as a kid—but especially after your dad died.” She gave a watery laugh and looked down at her midsection. “And here you are, once again helping me. Taking care of me. You came here to sort out your own problems, and I swooped in with mine. I shouldn’t have”—a pair of tears streaked down her cheeks—“but I really needed my best friend.”
Jamie’s breath hitched and she pulled her mother into a tight hug. And for the first time since her mom had shown up at Paradise Lost, Jamie was glad she’d done so. “Mom. I’m always here for you.”
“I know. And I’m always here for you, too. You’re just better at stuff than I am.”
Jamie shook her head. “Not true. You’re a great mom.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I know so.” She leaned back and shot her a teasing grin. “Look how great I turned out.”
“You did. I couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful child.”
“And I totally hit the parent lottery.”
“Even though I don’t know how to file a tax return?”
“Phooey. That’s what accountants are for.”
“Even though I suck at trigonometry?”
“Yup. Mom—you were good at the important stuff. Hugs and kisses and listening and sitting with me when I was sick and being proud of me and always making me feel loved. Even when I was a pain in the ass.”
“You were never a pain in the ass.”
Jamie cocked a brow. “You’ve obviously blocked out the moody teenage years.”
Mom laughed. “Okay, maybe you were a pest one or two times.”
“More like one or two thousand times, but it’s very sweet—and just like you—to love me anyway.”
“And just like you to love me even though I’ve been a drama-prone, demanding mess.”
“Hey—that’s what best friends are for.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” Mom said, wiping her eyes.
“Yeah—like that’s hard to do,” Jamie teased with an exaggerated eye roll.
Her mom smiled, then sobered. “A few months ago, I was browsing a self-help book and came across this proverb: When the winds of change are blowing, some people are building shelters and the others are building windmills. Those words struck me like a bolt of lightning and I realized that ever since your dad died, I’d been building shelters—protecting myself against the changes his death wrought, refusing to accept that my life was different and would never be the same.”
“I know it’s been difficult for you, Mom.”
“There are days when it still is, although my grief support group helped a lot.” Her eyes grew misty. “I not only lost your dad, but the life we’d planned to share. I thought we’d grow old together. Even though your dad was older, I never truly envisioned being here without him. The adjustment’s been … God. Brutal. I told myself I never wanted to go through anything like that ever again—no more changes. No more heartbreak. If I just kept my head down, and kept moving forward, one step at a time, I’d survive. And that’s what I was doing. And doing it well, I thought, although with a lot of help from you. And I could have done that forever— just plodded along in the little rut of non-change I’d carved out for myself.”
She pulled in a deep breath. “But then, right around the time I read that proverb, I met Alex. And suddenly I was laughing and feeling things I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Things I never thought I’d feel again. I figured, ‘He’s young, he’s fun, why not flirt a little?’ ”
“You decided to come out of your shelter and build a windmill.”
“Yes.”
“That was brave of you.”
Mom huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t feel brave. I was scared to death.” Her gaze filled with both confusion and unmistakable pride. “As much as I hated that you left New York, I can’t deny it was a very brave step to take.”
A humorless sound escaped Jamie. “Not really. It’s not as if I left permanently. I just took vacation time I’d been due forever. I’ll be going home soon.” Those words tied an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, one she refused to examine, at least not right now. “What you did by getting involved with Alex—I imagine that felt like jumping off a diving board without knowing if there was water in the pool.”
“Exactly. It was supposed to be fun and easy, and it was. I started to really care for him, which I hadn’t planned on. And then when I found out I was pregnant—it all became so incredibly complicated, and the whole time I’ve been here I haven’t been able to think clearly. But that talk we all had while cooking for the potluck dinner made the proverbial lightbulb go off over my head, and I finally realized what was bothering me.”
“And what was it?”
“I was paralyzed with the fear of forgetting your father, of his memory fading until I wouldn’t be able to recall him any longer. But being in that kitchen, cooking with Tom’s two daughters and his granddaughter, I realized that he lives on through the three of you. You, Heather, and Laurel all have something of him in you, and he’ll never be lost to me because of that. After that, I recalled something you’d said—something that condensed all my worries, all my fears, all my scattered thoughts down into one simple sentence, and it struck me just as hard as the windmill proverb had.”
“What did I say?”
“That you didn’t see why my decision was so difficult—that if I love Alex, then I should be with him, and if I don’t, I should tell him so and let him go. When I thought about it that way, I realized I’d been ago
nizing over something that was really a no-brainer.” Tears filled her eyes. “I love him, Jamie. I want to be with him. And have our baby with him. He’s told me all along that he loves me—even before he knew about the baby, he’d told me. The fact that he rearranged his life to come here, to stay with me all this time, and didn’t dump my pesky ass has proven to me that, miraculously, he means it. I … I accepted his proposal last night. We’re planning a November wedding. Something very small. I didn’t want to announce it at breakfast—I wanted to tell you privately first.”
Jamie smiled and pulled her mom into her arms for a long hug. “I’m really happy for you, Mom. Both of you. And so proud of you. You figured out what you wanted all on your own. And you’re going to be a fantastic mom. Again.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Jamie leaned back and teased, “And I’m going to have the hottest stepdad on the planet.”
Her mom laughed—erasing any worries Jamie may have had that she wasn’t secure in her decision—then heaved a gushy sigh. “He really is great, Jamie.”
“And very lucky to have you.”
“That’s what he says.”
“Good. And he better keep saying it, or I’m going to whack him upside his head. And I have the All-Clad pans to do it with.”
Her mom’s gaze turned serious. “What about you? Even though I’ve been immersed in my own drama, it hasn’t escaped my notice that you and Nick have become … close.”
Heat flooded Jamie’s face. Darn it, she could actually feel the blotches creeping up her neck. “We’re … enjoying each other’s company.”