Caught in the Act (The Davenports) (29 page)

BOOK: Caught in the Act (The Davenports)
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“You’re a good guy, Brody Hollister,” Cat said softly.

He gave her a wink as he rose. “And you’re a good woman. I look forward to talking to you later.”

He hadn’t said everything he should have that morning. He wanted Cat and the kids to move there, yes. But he needed her to understand that it was more than just wanting more time with her.

He loved her.

He wanted forever with her.

It was scary as hell to think of telling her that, of opening himself up to the potential hurt, but he would not risk losing her due to fear. If she walked, it would already hurt.

“Me too,” she whispered, and he caught a hint of pink on her cheeks. Probably because her brother and sister-in-law were watching the two of them with rapt attention.

He nodded a good-bye to the adults, then looked down at her kids. “Come on, workers. We have flower boxes to make. I understand flower boxes are very important for this park.”

“I liked your boyfriend,” Tyler declared during dinner that night.

They were sitting around the dining room table at the Davenport home—her mother included; apparently she planned to stay until the park was finished—when Tyler blurted out his proclamation.

Becca shoved potatoes in her mouth and nodded with enthusiasm. “I showed him how good I dance in my new shoes and he liked it. So I like him, too.”

“Catherine.” Her mother said the name as if implying that Cat needed to control her children. Cat ignored her.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she said. She winked at Tyler. “Because he has this awesome house on the beach, and I thought we might visit him there this week.” In fact, she was thinking of moving back to her beach house. Her mother wouldn’t be there.

“Yes!” both kids shouted.

Emma scowled. “You’re being ridiculous.”

What she was being was an adult. One who didn’t let her mother control her actions. She wanted her kids to have the chance to get to know Brody better. They’d be lucky if they could have him in their lives, and she intended to see if that could happen.

She’d watched him as he’d worked with them that morning, more than once witnessing a look on his face that brought her to a standstill. It was similar to one he might give her. And it filled Cat with hope. For her, for him. And for her kids.

Maybe for more kids.

When she, Becca, and Tyler began talking about building sand castles on Brody’s beach, her mother literally turned up her nose. “All that will accomplish is getting the paparazzi even more stirred up. Is that what you want?”

Cat snorted. “Seriously? The paparazzi is your concern? Didn’t you start this, Mother?”

“Okay.” Vega stood from her seat. “How about you two munchkins help me out with dessert?”

Becca glanced between her mother and grandmother, her expression one of concern as she picked up on the tension between the two women. Grudgingly, she slid from her chair. She was a sharp kid. She could sense a storm brewing when there was one. Cat appreciated Vega’s fast thinking.

“Thanks,” Cat whispered to Vega.

Vega patted Cat’s hand, then disappeared into the kitchen with the kids.

“Don’t you dare lay into me over this.” Cat rose from her own chair. Only, she didn’t intend to go anywhere. She leaned over the table, her fists pressed into the linen. She was ready to have this out.

“Maybe you two should take it to another room,” JP suggested. “Vega can only keep the kids in the kitchen for so long.”

Neither Cat nor her mother acknowledged him.

“Mommy.” Tyler came running back into the room. He had her cell phone in his hand, his arm held high. Vega rushed in after him. “Your phone is ringing again.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Cat calmed herself long enough to speak to her son. She took the phone, not intending to answer it, but when she glanced down, she was shocked to see the area code showing on the screen.

It was from San Francisco.

“I’ve got to take this.”

She answered the call as she walked out of the room, hearing her mother huff out in exasperation at the same time. Her mother hated it when people answered the phone while at the dinner table.

“Cat?” a woman’s voice said on the phone. “Catherine Carlton?”

It was an articulate, intelligent voice. One Cat hadn’t heard in eighteen years. And it made the breath leave her body.

“Yes,” Cat whispered.

“This is Patricia. I got your message.” When Cat didn’t say anything, Patricia added, “You said it was urgent. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Cat stepped out the front door, not caring who took her picture while she was out there, or if they happened to catch her crying while they did it. Because she suspected she was about to cry. And she wasn’t going to do it in front of her mother.

“Thank you for calling me back.” The words barely made it out, so she cleared her throat. “It’s good to hear from you, Patricia. I hope you’ve been well.”

She could almost hear the confusion coming through the phone. “What’s the matter, Cat? I haven’t heard from you in eighteen years.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

“I know.” The words were spoken gently. As if Patricia suspected that Cat was on the verge of a breakdown and wanted to keep her calm. “But I always thought I might.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Cat said, her voice cracking again. “When Annabelle died.” She squeezed her eyes closed tight. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but she couldn’t take it back. “I didn’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to now. So I’m sorry I’m calling. But I need some answers about my daughter.”

Patricia had gone completely silent. Cat didn’t even hear breathing.

“Patricia?”

“What are you talking about, Cat?”

“Mom told me. She said Annabelle was sick. She said you’d broken down over it.”

“Sweetheart, Annabelle has been the least sick child I’ve ever known. And I haven’t spoken with your mother in years.”

“Then what happened? Why did she die?”

Again, there was silence.

A flash went off somewhere through the trees in the front yard, and Cat turned her back to the road.

“Cat,” Patricia began, “Annabelle just graduated high school. The two of us are in London at the moment. This trip is her graduation present.”

Cat shook her head. “No. Mom told me . . .”

She stopped speaking as a pain stabbed her in the heart and slowly began to burn downward. It felt like she was being ripped in two.

Her mother had not been unclear eighteen years ago. She’d explained that the baby had been born sick, that they’d chosen to keep that information from Cat so the pain of giving her up wouldn’t be even worse, but that Annabelle had
not
made it. She’d passed away, and Patricia had been overwhelmed with grief.

Her mother had told her that.

To her face!

And Cat had believed it.

Her eyelids dipped, and she stumbled backward. She flailed out, finally catching hold of the post as the backs of her knees bumped into the concrete railing and she sat with a heavy thump. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“No,” she whispered.

More tears continued to roll.

Giving up her daughter had been bad enough, but thinking she was dead . . .

Being told that was unforgivable.

“Cat?” Patricia said softly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know that’s what you thought.”

Cat nodded. Patricia was a good person. She wouldn’t be a part of this.

“Are you okay?”

Cat shook her head and swiped the back of her hand across her face. The tears wouldn’t stop.

“Are you still in Maine?” Patricia asked.

“Yes.”

“We’re coming through New York in a couple days. Would you like to meet your daughter?”

“What?”

“Annabelle. She knows who you are. I wouldn’t tell her when she was younger, but she’s eighteen now.”

“Y
ou told her I’m her mother?”

“Her biological mother, yes. Two months ago. She’s been following things with your family these last few weeks.”

“Well, that has to make a good impression.”

Easy laughter reached through the phone. “She has been a bit shocked.”

“Does she think I didn’t want her?” Cat blurted out. Her daughter was alive. That was something she’d never expected to hear.

“She understands you were sixteen. She knows your choices were limited, Cat. I know your mother. I know your family. You made the brave decision not to bring her up in that environment when you were still trying to figure yourself out, too. I explained that to her.”

Cat let out a single, sad chuckle. “I feel like I’m
still
trying to figure myself out.”

“Don’t we all, sweetheart? But you made a phone call to me. That’s pretty big. Does that play into you figuring yourself out?”

She nodded and wiped at her face again. The tears were starting to slow. “It does.” Her voice remained shaky. “I’m in love with Annabelle’s father, and I never told him before. I’d planned to tell him about her tonight. Whatever I could find out. I was hoping to show him a picture.”

“I see.” Patricia’s tone was controlled, reminding Cat of a doctor speaking with a potentially unstable patient. Which made her laugh a little. Patricia was a doctor.

And Cat
was
potentially unstable.

“Does that mean her father is the man we’ve been seeing in the news with you now?” Patricia prodded.

“He is. And he’s a really good guy.”

“I’ve no doubt. But he never knew about Annabelle?”

“Wait.” Cat suddenly stood up. “You’re calling her Annabelle. Is that because that’s what I always called her? Or did you keep the name?”

“I kept it. Her name is Annabelle Meredith Weathers. I changed the middle name to be my mother’s.”

More tears fell.

“I didn’t know why it was important to you,” Patricia explained, “but you started calling our little girl Annabelle the moment you knew she was a girl. I’m guessing, now that I know Brody Hollister is her father, and that his mother’s name is Annabelle, that must be the reason.”

“I can’t believe she’s alive,” Cat whispered. “I’ve grieved for her for so long.”

“And I truly am sorry about that. If I’d known . . .”

“I know.”

They each listened to the other breathe for a moment, both in their own thoughts, before Patricia said, “She
would
like to meet you, Cat. I had to force her not to barge into your life two months ago when I first told her.”

“Is she happy?” Cat asked. “Has she had a good life?”

“She is happy. And I like to think I’ve given her a good life. Do you want to meet her? We’re heading back from our vacation on Friday. We could catch a flight to Maine.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do that for Annabelle.”

Cat paced the length of the porch as she took in the large grounds and the road off in the distance, and tried to get her mind to slow enough to think. She could meet her daughter. This week. Could she bring Annabelle here? The paparazzi had slowed, but they weren’t gone. They would have a field day if they found this out. “It’s a bit of a madhouse here,” she explained.

She didn’t care about the scandal it would cause, but about how it might impact her daughter.

“Then how about we meet in Portland?”

“Brody will want to meet her, too.”

“And I’m sure she’d love that.”

“She has a brother and sister,” Cat whispered.

“Let’s take it one day at a time, okay? Right now we’re thinking about Annabelle. She’s always wanted to meet her parents, so that’s what we’ll do first. She and I will fly in Friday night, and meet with you on Saturday. Does that sound okay?”

“It sounds perfect.”

“Good. Can you find a place that will be private?”

“I can.”

“Okay. I’ll text you later and we’ll settle on a time.”

Cat nodded once again. She was going to meet her daughter. In three days. “Patricia?” she said quickly, before the woman could hang up.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” Cat said sincerely. “Thank you for doing this now, and thank you for taking Annabelle back then. For giving her a good life. I never told you that before, but I could tell you would love her as much as I did. I wanted that for her.”

“I do. She’s my world. And I actually thank
you
every day. Now you go tell her father about her. I worry that might be a tough pill for him to swallow.”

“I suspect it will be. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“But you’re not making one now. This is good. We’ll make it work.”

Cat wiped away more tears. “I hope so.”

“Do you want me to text you a picture of her?”

Cat’s heart thudded. “You would do that?”

“She’s a gorgeous young lady. Yes, I would love to do that. I’ll send one over right now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

C
AT STOOD ON
the porch for another ten minutes, doing nothing but staring at the picture Patricia had sent her. She was right. Annabelle was gorgeous. She had blonde hair like Cat, but her eyes were Brody’s. In fact, Cat could see a lot of Brody in her. She’d always hoped that he’d passed along his features to her.

She was suddenly anxious to share the picture with him. She wanted him to see his daughter. But before she did that, she had to face her mother.

After scrubbing her hands over her cheeks, she pulled in a deep breath, blew it back out, and pushed the front door of the house open. Everyone was still in the dining room, though desserts had been eaten. All five of them looked up when Cat entered the room.

“You want dessert, Mommy?” Becca asked. “We saved you some cake.”

Cat shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Her brother stood, reaching out a hand for her, and making her wonder how unsteady she looked.

“That was Patricia Weathers,” she said. She looked straight at her mother as she spoke.

It took a second, but her mother blanched. “Catherine—”

“You lied to me, Mother. You told me she was dead.”

“It was only to help you.”

“Who’s dead?” JP asked.

“Why, Mother?”

“I told you—”

“Vega,” JP interrupted. “How about you take the kids out to play in the courtyard?”

Vega hurried to her feet, and with faces still covered in chocolate cake, Cat’s kids followed her out of the room. At the sound of the back door closing, JP stepped to the end of the twelve-person table so that he stood equal distance between the two women. As if placing himself in position as referee. Cat wrapped her hands around the top rung of her chair and zeroed in on her mother.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” JP said. “What’s going on? And who is Patricia Weathers?”

Cat calmly turned her head in her brother’s direction. “Brody and I had a daughter when I was sixteen.”

“What?” he gasped.

“I can explain,” their mother started, but Cat didn’t let her finish.

“I never told him about the pregnancy. Patricia Weathers is a college friend of our mother’s. She adopted my daughter. And then Mom told me that my daughter had died.”

JP went hot with anger. Cat saw his temper rise as his fists clenched and his face flushed. He may be her younger brother, but as always, his protective streak was a mile wide when it came to her.

“What the hell, Mother?” JP raged.

“If you’ll just let me explain.”

“I’m meeting Brody to tell him tonight,” Cat said. “All of it.”

“You can’t.” Her mother was on her feet. “Think of the scandal it will cause.”

“Fuck the scandal it will cause.” Her dinner was two seconds from coming back up. She couldn’t believe this was her family. “And by the way,” she continued, her body beginning to shake with her anger, “I’m done. With all of it.”

“You’re being overly dramatic, Catherine. You know I did it for you. You weren’t coming out of your depression. I couldn’t let you stay like that. It wasn’t healthy.” Her mother’s eyes pleaded with Cat before jumping over to JP as if he might help. Mixed in with the pleading was a fair bit of desperation.

Good. Cat wanted her desperate. She wanted her doubled over in pain.

“I thought it best for you,” Emma repeated, though the argument came out weak.

Cat shook her head. She didn’t believe anything her mother said. She never would again. “You thought it best for
you
,” she sneered. “You couldn’t have an unstable kid running around. That might not look right for a Davenport.”

“I was worried about you.”

The real truth suddenly dawned on Cat and she stood up straighter. “You were afraid I would go after her.”

Guilt was evident across Emma’s face. “No.”

“I might change my mind and go after my daughter. Then, what? We couldn’t have an illegitimate Davenport out there, could we?” Cat accused. And then she laughed. She laughed so loud that she worried for a brief second that she’d snapped. But if she had snapped, she didn’t think she’d still hurt as bad as she did. “Isn’t that just perfect?” She gave her mother an eerie smile as she shook her head in disgust. “Exactly what you worked so hard to hide with me, our father turned around and did to you.”

Cat glanced at her brother, who remained at the end of the table. She could see sympathy on his face. He hurt for her.

She hurt for herself.

Her whole life had been spent trying to make it up to her mother that she’d gotten pregnant as a teen. Only to find out that her mother had screwed her over all this time.

“You went too far,” she said. “You don’t get to be exempt from this one. I’m finished. I’ll stay on for the job at the park, but after that I’m done. With my job. And with the family.”

“You can’t be done with the family,” Emma exclaimed. “It’s who you are.”

“It is not who I am. And it never should have been.”

“You need to leave the house, Mother,” JP informed her.

“I have as much right to be here as you do, Jackson. And you shouldn’t talk to me that way.”

“Okay,” Cat said. She pushed her chair under the table and stepped away. “Then I’ll leave. I have a perfectly good rental I should be using anyway.” She turned to go.

“I’m sorry, Catherine,” her mother said behind her.

Cat stopped. She didn’t look back, but she couldn’t keep from stopping. Her mother owed her an apology, and she wanted to hear it. A real one.

“I’m sorry that you and he . . .”

Cat turned around, her face a hard mask. “Are you sorry that you hurt us?” she bit out. “That you threatened his mother if he so much as spoke to me again?”

“I did not threaten.”

“No? I’ll ask him. I’m guessing you did.”

Cat knew she was lashing out, but she had a right to. She was wounded to her soul. “Or are you sorry that you made me give my baby away?”

“I was simply trying to do what was right.”

“And what would have been so wrong with letting us deal with our own lives? We may have been kids, but you had no right. Especially after you knew I was pregnant.”

“He was a Harrison.”

“I’m so tired of hearing that. What’s really so bad about the Harrisons? They’re just people.”

“There’s always been a feud.”

Cat shook her head. Her mother disgusted her. “That’s not a good enough reason any longer.”

Without another word or look back, Cat walked out of the room. Behind her, she heard JP inform their mother that she had ten minutes to get her things and be ready to leave. He’d see her to the airport. It was clear that he didn’t intend to take no for an answer.

BOOK: Caught in the Act (The Davenports)
8.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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