Authors: Linda Warren
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.
O
WEN 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.
“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.
Emily sat there with her mouth open, not knowing what to do.
E
MILY HAD NO IDEA
how long she sat staring into space, trying to figure out who Becca was talking about. Then she understood. Becca was talking about Emily’s daughter—the girl she was so jealous of whenever they’d talked about her. Emily would come home for her daughter but not for her sister—that was what Becca thought. Becca was confused. Inside she was still Rebecca Ann Cooper, Rose and Owen’s daughter. Rebecca Ann, Emily’s daughter, was still an alien person to her. Becca hadn’t made the transition yet, and Emily couldn’t expect her to do it overnight.
Oh, God.
Emily buried her face in her hands. She’d told Jackson they shouldn’t rush Becca, but in reality that was exactly what she’d done. She was overwhelming Becca. When they started the search for their daughter, she felt she wouldn’t be able to walk away from her. That was proving to be true. She wanted her daughter, but she had to stop feeling that way. Becca needed time, and Emily had to give it to her. That would be so hard—for her and Jackson.
On the beach yesterday, when she and Becca had held each other, she’d thought everything would be fine, but Becca was obviously struggling with her emotions…namely anger. She seemed angry at everyone, and she was jealous of the other Rebecca—and of Jackson. That didn’t leave Emily many choices. She would now
earn the title of mother. She would sacrifice her happiness for her daughter’s.
Oh, Jackson, please understand.
J
ACKSON HAD BREAKFAST
then paced his hotel room, waiting. By nine o’clock he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to see them. He yanked open the door and Emily almost fell inside.
“Oh!” She held a hand to her chest. “You startled me. I was just about to knock.”
He took her arm and led her inside. She looked tired and upset, and his heart went out to her. “I was just going to your house.” He glanced toward the door. “Where’s Becca?”
“She’s gone to school,” Emily said, sitting on the love seat. She noticed that Jackson wore jeans and a green shirt that intensified the color of his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, but her attraction was quickly overshadowed by other problems. “Or at least I think that’s where she went. She’s so angry with me, she might’ve taken off someplace. I’m not actually sure where she is.”
“What happened?” he asked, and sat beside her.
She described their talk and what Becca had said when she’d told her about commuting to her practice. “She’s confused and doesn’t know who she is. She’s jealous of the other Rebecca. She’s jealous of my relationship with you. I have to give her my full attention to prove that I love her and that I’ll never leave her again.”
Jackson listened closely and each word was like a nail driven into his heart. He had to be absolutely sure he was understanding her correctly. “You’re planning to commute to your practice in Houston?” It didn’t sound as if there was much room for him in that scenario. As a matter of fact, it sounded as if Emily had left him out completely.
“Yes—I don’t see any other way. I can’t disrupt her life any more than I already have.”
“And where will I be while you’re working and trying to build a relationship with our daughter?”
Her eyes met his. “I’m asking for your patience and understanding. We’re rushing Becca, overwhelming her, and we can’t do that. We
have
to give her time. We all need time, all three of us.”
“What you’re asking is that I go back to Dallas and forget about my daughter,” he said flatly. Unable to remain still, he got to his feet.
“No.” Emily immediately denied. “I would never ask that of you. Like I said, we all need time to adjust and come to terms with this new situation.”
He heard the pain in her voice and something inside him melted. He ran a hand through his hair. “God, Emily, don’t—”
She broke in. “I would never try to keep you from Becca, but she’s hurting and angry. I can see that, and so can you. I’m just asking you to back off…for a short while.”
Jackson stared down at his shoes. He had a daughter and, whatever Emily might say, she was trying to keep Becca from him. He felt his rights as a father had been diminished by the woman he loved. He wasn’t sure how to deal with that. But if this was truly what Becca needed… He sighed. Yesterday in Rose’s hospital room, he’d recognized all the things Emily was talking about but hadn’t wanted to face them. Now he had to.
“How long?” he asked quietly.
“Until Becca’s ready to accept us as her parents.”
“A week? A month? A year?”
“I can’t say.”
He raised his eyes to hers. “What about us?”
She glanced away. “I can’t think about us.”
I can’t think about us. I can’t think about us.
Those words burned like a fire through his system, singeing his body with a new kind of pain.
He had to know one thing. “Is that possible for you—to forget about us?”
She clenched her hands into fists. “Yes.”
“What was San Antonio? Just a romp between the sheets for old time’s sake?”
“It was much more than that, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t,” he shot back. “I was thinking of love, family and a future, but that was never part of your plan, was it, Emily? From the moment we found out Becca was our daughter, you repeatedly used the word
alone
. It might’ve been subconscious, but you used it. You never had any intention of letting me be part of your lives.”
“That’s not true,” she said, trying to keep her emotions in check. She was hurting him, but she saw no other option. She just wished he’d make an effort to understand. “Besides, this isn’t about us. It’s about Becca and what’s best for her.”
“Funny,” he said sarcastically. “I mistakenly thought they were one and the same.” He couldn’t control his anger and he hated himself for that.
Emily saw him struggling and she had to force the next words from her throat. “When we started this, you promised me that if our daughter was happy, you’d walk away. Please don’t break that promise.”
His eyes flew to hers. “This is completely different.”
“Exactly,” she murmured. “We never imagined our daughter would be my sister. For that reason, we have to stop pressuring Becca. We can’t expect her to become our daughter overnight. We wouldn’t expect another girl to do that and we can’t expect it of Becca.”
Jackson didn’t say anything because he knew she was right. However, he wasn’t a patient man. He was a man of action, and he preferred to simply take what he wanted. But now he would learn patience—for his daughter. Even though he was upset with Emily, he would back off and give them time, as she’d requested. It would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do. And it made him angrier. He
shouldn’t
have to do that. He shouldn’t.
Emily got up and touched his arm, and he immediately pulled free. “No, don’t touch me,” he said. “Right now I—” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but if she touched him in any way, he wouldn’t be able to do what she wanted him to—which was to walk out of their lives.
With a breaking heart, Emily realized that by saving her daughter she was losing Jackson. He was angry with her, that was very plain, and she would have to cope with that in her own way.
“I’m sorry,” she said, with a quaver in her voice.
The anger suddenly erupted in him. “I wish I could believe that, but you’ll be with her every day. You’ll be part of her life while I’ll be the father who left her—again.”
“It won’t be like that and—”
Jackson couldn’t tolerate any more. “Just go.”
She swallowed hard and walked to the door on feet that felt like lead.
“Emily,” he said as she twisted the knob.
“Yes?” She turned back, hoping they could end this on a happier note.
“I won’t leave without talking to Becca first. I don’t want her to think I’m running out on her.”
“Okay,” she replied. “But be prepared for her sharp tongue and insolent attitude. She’s lashing out at everyone around her.”
“I think I can handle it” was the quick retort.
Emily wanted to say something else, but the words wouldn’t come.
Goodbye
hovered on her lips, but she would never say that word to Jackson again.
I love you. Please understand.
She didn’t say those words, either. Tears stung her eyes as she walked out the door. She’d just lost the one thing that gave her joy—Jackson’s love. How many mothers had made this type of sacrifice for their children? Too many, she decided.
E
MILY DROVE STRAIGHT
to the hospital, forcing herself not to think or feel, but when she parked her car, the walls came crashing down and she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. She wiped the tears away and rested her head against the seat. In those rare moments when she had allowed herself to envision finding her daughter, she’d pictured her with a loving family. She hoped they would meet the parents; she would thank them for raising her daughter and she also hoped she and Jackson would be permitted to visit occasionally and become acquainted with her. But it had turned out so differently than she’d ever imagined. There was so much pain and heartache. Would they ever get through it?
She didn’t have an answer, but for her own peace of mind she had to mend her relationship with her mother. Did she have the strength to forgive? She’d told Becca to forgive, and now Emily had to do the same. She couldn’t expect forgiveness unless she was willing to extend it herself—and it had to come from her heart.
As she walked to Rose’s room, she kept hearing the pain in Jackson’s voice and seeing the hurt in his eyes. She wanted to turn around and go back to him, try to make things right. But she didn’t know what
right
was. She had
to admit she was as confused as Becca. All she knew was that she and Becca had to find each other as mother and daughter. Until that happened, there wasn’t a future for any of them as a family. How would she survive these next difficult months without Jackson? She wondered bleakly if the emptiness in her heart would ever go away.
When she entered the room, she discovered her father sitting in a chair reading the newspaper. Her mother was gazing out the window from her bed.
Rose’s eyes brightened when she saw her. “Emily Ann, I’m glad you came.”
Owen stood. “Think I’ll get a cup of coffee.”
“No, Dad,” Emily said. “We need to talk about this together.”
Owen nodded, and Emily walked to Rose’s side.
“How’s Rebecca?” Rose asked before Emily could speak.
“Angry and bitter.” She didn’t lie.
“She’s always had a stubborn streak that was hard to control. I guess she got that from…” Rose didn’t finish her sentence.
“Say his name,” Emily insisted.
“Mr. Talbert.”
“His name is Jackson,” Emily said patiently.
“Jackson,” Rose repeated.
“Yes, his name is Jackson and he’s Becca’s father and I hope he’s going to be part of our lives. Right now, I’m not sure. I’m—” Her voice shook and tears filled her eyes.
Rose reached for Emily’s hand. It was the first time Rose had freely touched her in years, and it unleashed something in Emily that had lain dormant for a long, long time—love for her mother.
“I’m so sorry, my baby,” Rose whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for everything.”
The years of resentment seemed to dissipate and Emily reached for her mother, and Rose held her tight, stroking her hair. She needed this more than she needed Jackson or Becca right now. She needed to feel her mother’s love.
Emily straightened, but Rose held on to her hand. “I wish I could change things, baby, but I can’t go back and neither can you. Please forgive me.”
In that instant Emily knew she’d forgiven her mother. From somewhere in her heart forgiveness flowed easily. Maybe it was because of the word
baby.
Her mother had always called her that and now it came naturally, just like the love they’d once shared. But Emily knew that life could never be the way it used to be—too much suffering had intervened. For Becca, though, she would strive to make things better.
For the next two hours, Emily talked with her parents and she didn’t hold anything back. She told them how she’d felt when she was seventeen and now. She didn’t try to spare their feelings. In the end, she told them her plans for Becca. She would now be Becca’s mother, but she needed their help to make the transition. Both Owen and Rose agreed to help. They just wanted to remain part of Becca’s life.
Emily left the hospital feeling better than when she’d walked in. She wished her conversation with Jackson had gone as well. She’d handled it all wrong, but she hadn’t known what else to do. Right now, Becca needed her full attention.
Jackson, please understand. Don’t hate me.
She’d told her parents that Jackson was going to stay in her life. Suddenly she realized she’d forgotten to tell Jackson that. She wasn’t sure it would’ve made a difference, though. Jackson was hurt and she was hurt, and Becca was caught in the middle. Could she find a resolution?
L
ATER THAT AFTERNOON
, Jackson waited for Becca to get out of school. He’d found her red Mustang so he knew she was here. When a horde of kids ran from the school toward their vehicles, he watched for her anxiously. He caught his breath when he saw her standing, talking and laughing with a group of kids. One of them was the boy from the prom—the one with long hair and an earring. He wasn’t too pleased about that, but then his rights as a father were just about nil. That stirred resentment inside him and he hoped he could control it.
As she walked toward her car, he thought she was going to be as beautiful as Emily, but he saw qualities from the Talbert side in her, too. Yes, this was his daughter. His heart tightened, and he quickly got out of his car and met her at the Mustang.
She frowned at him and the laughing teenager he’d glimpsed a moment ago was gone. “What do you want?”
He could see the anger Emily was talking about; she made no effort to hide it. He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know where to start. Emily was right. They needed time. That wasn’t easy to admit or to accept.