He sighed, not seeming surprised to hear her voice, but maybe a little reluctant to speak. “Hi, Maggie.”
“I...I was wondering how Taylor was.”
“She’s fine.”
Maggie paced between the living room and the kitchen. “I know she’s fine. I guess I was wondering what she thought about me.”
“She thought you were one of my old friends.” His tone was strained. “What do you mean, what did she think of you?”
She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Did she say anything about me? Later, I mean?”
“She saw you drive away. Cool car was her comment.”
Maggie closed her eyes, leaning against the cool, dark glass of the balcony doors. “I really want her to like me, Jarrett. I think it will make it easier when we tell her.”
He paused. She waited.
“Want to go for a walk?” he asked. “Taylor’s already cozied up with a movie. I’d rather talk in person than on the phone. I spend too much time on the phone with my business.”
Maggie’s heart gave a little leap. “Talk about Taylor? Sure. Now? You mean now?”
“I don’t like to go too far from the house at night, but I walk on the beach a lot. Want to meet me halfway between our two places? I still can’t believe you bought a house so close and I didn’t know you were there.”
Maggie was ecstatic—because they were going to talk about Taylor, of course, not about seeing Jarrett. “I’ll start walking in your direction now.”
“See you in a few.”
Maggie grabbed a sweatshirt and ran out the door.
Despite the hour, the beach was far from deserted. There were couples out taking romantic walks, as well as families getting a little exercise before bed. Maggie met Jarrett almost exactly between their two houses.
“Mind if we walk back toward my place? Taylor’s fine alone, but I like her to know she can find me if she needs me. She tells me I'm overprotective, which I am. I'm working on it, but it's hard.”
The cool breeze coming off the ocean raised goose bumps on Maggie’s arms. She slipped her sweatshirt over her head. “Sure. We can walk that way. Where’d you tell Taylor you went?”
“Out for a walk with you.”
They headed north along the waterline. “You told her?”
“Taylor and I try to be honest with each other. I don’t have the time or the energy to be making stuff up and then trying to remember what I said—except for the big issue, I guess. About you.”
Surprisingly, Maggie felt no anger this time. Maybe because deep in her heart, she knew that had the roles been reversed, she might have told Taylor Jarrett was dead, too. She nodded. “I guess that’s the best way to raise a child.”
“The only way.”
They walked side by side, listening to the sound of the water lapping on the shore and the murmur of the wind. Maggie had so many questions about Taylor that she didn’t know where to begin. She wanted to know everything—how old Taylor was when she took her first step, what her first words were, even when she had started her period. Yet something told her she and Jarrett needed to talk about themselves first before they could civilly discuss Taylor.
She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Jarrett, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me not to contact you and let you know I was pregnant.”
He glanced at her, the moonlight reflecting off his blond hair, lending a golden magic to it. “We don’t have to talk about this,” he said tightly. “It happened a long time ago.”
His suggestion was tempting. Talking about the past would be hard—hard for her, and apparently hard for Jarrett. But she couldn’t push the past aside any longer. She’d been doing that for too many years.
“No, we do have to talk about it. I made bad decisions, decisions that have affected all of us. I was also eighteen years old, scared half to death, and I felt so alone.”
“It’s not my place to judge you.”
She halted to rest her hand on Jarrett’s arm. “I should have written to you and told you, but my mother forbid me. She just took over. She sent me to live with my aunt in Tucson. She made all the adoption arrangements.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you said you didn’t put her up for adoption,” he said, his tone cool.
Maggie was suddenly close to tears. Her hand slipped from his arm. She started to walk again. “I didn’t. I agreed with the adoption to begin with because my mother and my aunt had me convinced I had no choice, but I did not sign any adoption papers. I thought I would have time later—after—to make my final decision.”
Maggie thought hard, trying to remember the night Taylor was born, but she could remember nothing of Taylor’s birth but the blur of drug-induced sounds and the single cry of her daughter. And even those memories were mingled with memories of Jordan’s birth to the point where she wasn’t sure which memories were which.
After Taylor’s single, lusty cry, Maggie remembered nothing until the following morning, when the baby was gone and she was being released from the hospital into Ruth’s care.
She opened her eyes. “You know what my signature looks like. All you have to do is get a copy of my release. You’ll know the truth then.”
This time it was Jarrett who halted. He dug into the wet sand with the heel of his bare foot. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” His voice cracked with pain . . . fear, maybe.
She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Completely.”
“Unbelievable,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she said.
He spread his arms wide, looking directly into her eyes. “So if you hadn’t agreed to give her up, why did you wait all these years before looking for us—for her?”
“I didn’t know she was with you. I thought she’d been adopted by some nice childless couple.” She threw up her hands. “I was trying to do the responsible thing and let my daughter live the life given to her.”
“Then your baby died,” he said softly, his anger gone.
A flood of emotion filled Maggie. “Then my baby died.”
Maggie smelled Jarrett even before she felt his arms around her.
“I’m sorry,” he soothed, pulling her close against him, wrapping his arm around her back. “I’m so sorry.”
A sob rose up in her throat and she choked it back as her cheek came to rest on his chest. He smelled of suntan lotion, salt spray, and the love she had once known. His arms felt so good around her, good because she needed to be hugged, good because they were his arms.
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She was too overwhelmed. And Jarrett said nothing. He just held her, smoothed her hair, and brushed his lips across the crown of her head.
“I never meant to hurt you or Taylor or anyone,” she said when she found her voice. “I didn’t know you had her. I don’t even know how you found out.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he soothed. “I understand. We both did some foolish things back then, didn’t we? And we were only kids.”
Feeling in control again, Maggie took a step back. But the minute she moved out of Jarrett’s arms, she wished she had the warmth and strength of them around her again. “We work this out somehow,” she said, hoping the desperation wasn’t too audible in her voice. “Can’t we?”
He turned to face the incoming tide and the great expense of the ocean and the horizon beyond it. “I think we have to. For Taylor’s sake.”
Maggie stared into the darkness of the ocean and a strange sense of peace came over her. “For Taylor’s sake,” she whispered.
“And mine,” Jarrett said, taking them both by surprise.
Chapter 12
Maggie laughed as Taylor relayed a story of a friend’s attempts to dye her hair. After a long day of sunbathing on the beach, the two were chopping vegetables for salad in Jarrett’s small kitchen. It had been Taylor’s idea to surprise her father with supper when he arrived home from his business meeting in Philadelphia.
“O
h, no, not green,” Maggie giggled, feeling more like a teen than she had in a decade.
“Like split pea soup.” Taylor cackled. “No, no, worse! Like—like guacamole!”
Maggie dumped a handful of sliced cucumbers into a salad bowl filled with torn lettuce. “Well, I certainly hope you don’t try that.”
“Nah, I like my hair color most of the time.” She scrutinized Maggie across the counter. “You know, my hair’s almost the same color as yours, just lighter.”
Maggie had to look away to keep from meeting her daughter’s gaze. This would have been the perfect opportunity to tell her the truth, but Maggie wouldn’t do that to Jarrett. They would decide together when to tell her, and how.
“Well, if we ever run across this girl on the boardwalk, I want you to point her out. You never know when I might want a change. When you get to be my age, you start doing crazy things like dying your hair green and having the fat sucked from your thighs.”
Still laughing, Taylor went to the sink to run water for the pasta. “Oh, you’re not that old. You’re the same age as my dad.”
“Younger,” Maggie corrected.
“And he’s so young he still surfs and stuff.”
Maggie nodded her approval. “Pretty cool dad.”
“You ever surfed, Maggie?”
“Nope, but I’d be willing to try if you’d give me a lesson or two and promise to resuscitate me if necessary.”
Taylor laughed again, her light, bright voice echoing off the ceiling tiles. The sound made Maggie’s heart swell. Nothing could take away the pain of losing Jordan, but Taylor could certainly ease it.
“You know, when my dad said you and I were going to hang out together while he was gone, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea. I mean, I know my dad doesn’t like me to stay here alone when he’s all the way up in Philadelphia. He’s been, like, completely paranoid ever since he was on that magazine cover. They put things in the article about how much money he makes and about where I went to school and stuff. He was furious. Now he thinks someone’s going to kidnap me or something.” She rolled her eyes. “But I really am okay here by myself. It’s kind of fun to be alone sometimes. Anyway, I’m glad you came over. I had a good time.”
Tears sprang to Maggie eyes, and she brushed at them with the back of her hand. It was all she could do to keep from abandoning the salad to put her arms around her daughter. Instead she sliced onions. “I had a good time, too, sunburn and all. I spend so many hours at work that I don’t get much time on the beach.”
“Not even when you had your baby?”
Maggie’s head snapped up in surprise. She hadn’t known Taylor knew she’d lost her family.
Taylor’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” She stared guiltily into the spaghetti saucepot.
“No, no, it’s all right.” Maggie returned her attention to the salad bowl. Her wound was still raw, but it wasn’t bleeding. She could handle talking to her daughter about her son. “To answer your question, my son Jordan lived with his father in Washington, DC, most of the time. But when he was here, we loved to go down to the beach together. He and I used to spend hours making sand castles.”
The teen brightened. “I love making sandcastles. My dad’s are the best.”
“I know,” Maggie said before thinking.
“You do?”
Maggie wasn’t sure what to say now. She didn’t know how much Jarrett had told Taylor about their past together. She decided a little information couldn’t hurt. “Yeah, didn’t you know your dad and I dated when I was in high school?”
“Sure. He told me.”
“Well, we used to come down here to the beach when his folks had this place. He would build sandcastles for me on this very beach.” She pointed with a paring knife.
“Cool. Sounds pretty romantic.”
Maggie couldn’t resist a smile, the kind two girlfriends would share. “It was.”
“So what happened? Between you two, I mean.” Taylor put the pot of water on the stove and turned it on. She turned to Maggie, wrinkling her freckled nose. “I’m sorry. My dad says I’m too nosy.”
“I think he’s right,” Maggie teased. “And you’ll have to ask him about that one.”
“Hey, was that my dad’s car I heard?” Taylor walked around the counter into the living room. “You stay here and I’ll run down. We’ll surprise him.”
Maggie watched Taylor run through the living room and out the back door. She leaned against the counter and took a bite of a carrot. Maybe making plans with Taylor to stay for dinner wasn’t such a good idea. What if Jarrett didn’t want her here?
But Maggie had shared a wonderful day with Taylor on the beach, so wonderful that she wasn’t ready to see it end. What harm could there be in the three of them having dinner together? What reason would Jarrett have for not wanting her here? Hadn’t he said he thought they could work this out somehow? Obviously they were going to be spending time together.
Maggie heard Taylor chattering as she bounded up the back steps. Behind her came the low rumble of Jarrett’s voice.
“I hope you don’t mind, Dad. Maggie and I are making your favorite, pasta.”
From the doorway, Jarrett met Maggie’s gaze. “Maggie.”
The look on his face told her he did mind.
Maggie suddenly felt like an intruder and wished now she had gone home when Jarrett called to say he would be home in an hour. “Hi,” she said. “Have a good trip?”
“It was all right.” He handed Taylor his leather briefcase. He was not dressed as a business CEO in a suit and tie, but in khaki slacks and a short-sleeved black polo. He looked slightly rumpled and utterly irresistible.
Maggie turned away from father and daughter, wondering if she should bow out of dinner gracefully. But she didn’t want to hurt Taylor’s feelings. “Water's almost boiling, Taylor. You can add the noodles.”
Just as Taylor ducked into the kitchen, her cell phone on the counter rang. She looked down. “It's Ally.” She rolled her eyes. “Her grandma's funeral was today.”
“Go ahead.” Jarrett gave a wave. “Talk to her. We've got this.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She grabbed the phone and hurried down the hall. “Hey,” she said into the phone. Her door closed a second later.
Maggie wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I can leave if you want me to,” she said. “Make up an excuse about the hospital needing me or something.”
“No, no, that’s all right. Taylor told me she invited you.” He wandered to the counter that separated the kitchen and living room/dining room and took a seat on a barstool. “She has a right to invite you to dinner.”
Maggie added spaghetti noodles to the pot of boiling water. “Well, I certainly feel welcome now. Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Don’t go.”
She turned from the stove to meet his gaze. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. So how was your day on the beach?” He fished a slice of cucumber from the salad bowl.
She glanced at him across the granite counter. This felt so weird, being here with Jarrett and Taylor, making dinner, asking how each other’s day went. It was almost as if they were a family—but of course they weren’t. “Good, really good. You’ve got a nice young lady there.”
Jarrett reached for another cucumber. “You mean we have.”
Maggie’s gaze met Jarrett’s. “We,” she said softly, her smile hesitant.
Jarrett ran the fingers of one hand through his blond hair, leaving it standing up on end in an entirely too charming way. “So I guess we need to tell her about us—you—before things go too far.”
Maggie watched his expression carefully. He didn’t seem angry at all tonight, just resigned, maybe still a little bit fearful. At least she had proven to him she could be trusted. She didn’t grab Taylor and run the first time she had a chance. “I think so.”
Jarrett exhaled slowly. He acted as if he’d had a hard da
y and wasn’t certain he was up to this tonight. “Do you think I should do it alone, or should we do it together?” He spoke softly so as not to risk being heard beyond the kitchen, his voice lending an air of intimacy.
Maggie picked up a wooden spoon to stir the pasta. “I suppose it’s only fair to do it together. You shouldn't take all the responsibility for this. I’m as much responsible for her not knowing the truth as you are. Maybe more. If I hadn’t—”
“Maggie, don’t.” Jarrett sighed again and shook his head. “How did we get to this point?” His tone was wistful. “We had so much going for us. How could it all have gone so wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter.” She set down the knife and rounded the counter into the living room. He pushed a barstool toward her and she sat beside him. “What matters is what we do now. How we handle this now.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m just dreading this. I hate having to come clean, especially with lies that are fifteen years old.” He gave an ironic chuckle. “Boy, I could use a beer right now.”
“Want one?”
“Nah, this is going to be hard enough as it is. I don’t need to be in any form of an altered state.”
Maggie nodded, putting her folded hands on the bar beside his. “I know what you mean,” she commiserated. “I’m not looking forward to it, either.”
Taylor’s bedroom door opened and they heard her coming down the hall.
“Well,” Jarrett said, covering Maggie’s hands with one of his. “Let’s get dinner on the table and get this over with, shall we?” He rose from his stool. “Then we can both have a beer,” he whispered. “We ought to really need one by the time she goes to bed.”
Maggie was so nervous as they put dinner on the table together that it was all she could do to engage in pleasant conversation. She wanted Taylor to know the truth, but now that it was time to tell her, she was getting cold feet.
She tried to tell herself it might be better if she went home and Jarrett told Taylor alone. But Maggie knew that was just copping out. It wouldn’t be fair to Jarrett or to Taylor to make her father tell her.
Still, that didn’t mean Maggie wasn’t scared. She and Taylor had been getting along so well that she hated to have her daughter be angry with her now. But Jarrett was right. Taylor had to be told now, before the relationship went any further.
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