Emily's Daughter (20 page)

“I want to talk to you,” he said calmly.

“Take a number. Everyone wants to talk to me,” she replied sarcastically, digging for keys in her purse.

“Ten minutes—that’s all I’m asking.”

Still searching for her keys, she said, “If you want me to forgive you, I forgive you. I forgive everybody for ruining my life. Satisfied?”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at him. “What?”

“Until I can find a way to forgive myself, I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Oh,” she murmured, and he could see he’d taken the wind out of her sails—or the bite out of her words.

He noticed that all the kids had left the grounds and he pointed at a vacant bench beneath a leaning oak tree. “Let’s go over there and talk. It won’t take long.” He walked toward the bench and Becca opened her car and threw her books and purse on the seat, then slowly followed.

Jackson sat and she sank down beside him. “I just wanted to tell you I’ll be going back to Dallas.”

“So?”

“I didn’t want you to think I’d deserted you.”

“Why should I think or feel anything?”

“Because I’m your father and I love you. That’s a given. But I’m not sure I like you…just yet.”

She glared at him. “Everybody likes me, and I don’t care if you do or not. A guy who runs out on a pregnant girl isn’t someone I want to know.”

Jackson inhaled deeply. “I had no idea Emily was pregnant. I’m not going to say that if I’d known I would’ve come running back. My life was a mess at the time, but I’d like to think I would’ve taken full responsibility for you and Emily.”

“Big deal.”

Jackson bit his tongue, then said, “You have a right to all that anger, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m your father.”

Silence.

“The important thing now is for you and Emily to have some time alone—to get to know each other.”

“I know Emily fine.”

“Not as a mother, you don’t. Give her a chance, Becca.”

Becca gazed down at the ground, her dark hair covering her face.

“This isn’t easy for any of us,” Jackson went on. “And
leaving isn’t easy, either. But I don’t know what else to do.” Becca didn’t respond, so he said, “If you need anything, I’m only a phone call away.”

“I won’t need you,” she muttered sullenly.

“On second thought, I’ll call you.”

She glanced at him. “What if I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Then just say you don’t want to talk and I’ll hang up. No pressure, but at least I’ll hear your voice.”

A puzzled look crossed her face, and Jackson reached in his pocket and handed her a card. “Here are my numbers—home, office, cell phone, and at the bottom is my dad’s. If you can’t reach me, he’ll probably know where I am.”

Her eyes widened. “You have a dad?”

“Sure do, and he’s very anxious to meet his new granddaughter.”

Fear flashed into her eyes and Jackson saw it for what it was—a fear of the unknown, of overwhelming events that were happening too fast for a seventeen-year-old girl.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “You don’t have to deal with my family until you’re ready. I promise.”

“Good, because I have all the family I need.”

Jackson’s throat closed in pain. Her cruel words were getting to him and he had to be stronger than this. He studied her face. “You have my mother’s nose and her mouth,” he said quietly.

“Jeez, am I supposed to meet her, too?”

“No, she’s dead. She died the year you were born.”

“Oh…yeah. I remember Emily mentioning something about that,” she muttered. Jackson sensed she’d wanted to say more.

Silence reigned again.

“If that’s all, I’ve got to go. Tommy’s waiting.” She got to her feet.

Jackson stood also. “The boy with the earring.”

Her eyes challenged him. “Yeah, you got something to say about it?”

“Enjoy yourself and enjoy life, but don’t be too eager to experience it too fast. It comes quick enough.”

“What kind of crap is that?” she asked rudely.

“Just a father’s—”

She interrupted. “Don’t say it.” She put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear it.”

He removed her hands. “I’m sorry this has caused you so much pain. You’ve had two parents who’ve loved and cared for you for seventeen years. It’s selfish of me to try and snatch that away from you, and I won’t.” He swallowed. “But if you find there might be a place in your heart for me, all you have to do is call.”

He walked to his car, got in and drove away. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. His nerves were tied in such knots that one glimpse would cause him to break down. He had to resist the urge to find Emily, to see her one more time before he left. He didn’t know what good that would do. They were both struggling to stay afloat in a sea of emotions that were threatening to pull them under. But, God, he needed her. Now he’d have to wait…wait to see if Emily needed him, too.

T
HE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED
were the worst Emily had ever spent, except for the day they’d taken her baby. Becca tried her patience to the limit, but she didn’t falter or give up. Rose came home from the hospital and things got worse, if that was possible. Becca was even more sullen, rude and belligerent. Nothing anyone said made a difference, and Emily began to despair of ever reaching her.

Finally she knew they needed counseling. She arranged for her parents, Becca and her to see a psychologist in Corpus Christi. Becca threw a fit and didn’t show up for the appointment. Emily tried to talk to her, but she adamantly refused to have anything to do with a psychologist.

Emily talked to a friend in Houston who was also a psychologist, and she told Emily that Becca was going through a trauma; it would take her time to adjust. She told Emily not to force her, just to be patient and supportive, constantly showing Becca that she loved her. Emily went along with her advice, and she and her parents continued to see the therapist once a week in Corpus Christi. She was surprised they didn’t object.

Every day she thought of Jackson and wished for his presence, but she’d made the decision to do this alone. In the turmoil of things she’d forgotten to give him the photos of Becca. She put them in an album and mailed them, hoping they’d bring him some comfort.

Emily drove the three-hour commute to and from work daily. She had talked with Dr. Bensen and explained the situation. She cut back her hours so she could get home by six, but Becca didn’t care. She wasn’t home most days when Emily got there. Emily then had to search Rockport to find her. An argument would ensue, although Becca always came home.

Becca wanted her room back and asked Emily to move out. That hurt. They’d always shared a room. Emily didn’t say anything. She moved into the bedroom off the kitchen, the one her parents saved for tourists.

Rose and Owen were there for support, and it helped at times, but she really needed Jackson. She couldn’t handle Becca. Their special bond had been irrevocably broken, and there didn’t seem to be a way back.

J
ACKSON THREW HIMSELF
into his work. He tried not to think. His only goal was to get through each day. He knew he was bad-tempered, and his staff, even Colton, left him to his own misery.

Nancy, his secretary, walked into his office one afternoon, two weeks after his return. “You have a package,” she said.

“Fine,” he growled, not taking his eyes off the computer screen. “Put it anywhere.”

“It’s from Rockport.”

He raised his head and grabbed the package from his desk. “Thanks,” he mumbled, ripping the paper away.

Nancy departed quickly.

There was a note attached to the front of an album. “Thought you might like these. Emily.” He slowly opened the cover and his heart raced as he stared at pictures of his daughter from the day she was born to the previous Christmas. There she was in a crib, sitting on a bicycle, holding a fishing rod and standing by the red Mustang, and so many more that he lost himself in her life. His heart completely stopped when he saw what was beneath the album—a framed eight-by-ten of Becca as she was today.

Dark eyes, just like Emily’s, stared back at him. He reached out and touched her precious face and felt an intense need to call Emily. He picked up the phone, then immediately replaced it. If he heard her voice, he’d be back in Rockport in a flash and he couldn’t do that. He had to give them time—as he’d promised. He wouldn’t break that promise.

Colton entered the office and Jackson smiled at him. Colton seemed taken aback. Jackson hadn’t smiled in days.

“Want to see the most beautiful girl in the whole world?” Jackson asked, still smiling.

“Sure,” Colton answered guardedly.

Jackson handed him the eight-by-ten of Becca. “That’s my daughter.”

“Wow,” Colton said, studying the face.

Jackson flipped through the album and found the picture he wanted—one of Emily and Becca with their arms around each other. He turned it around so Colton could see and pointed to the photo. “That’s her mother.”

“Wow,” Colton said again. “I see where she gets her looks.”

“Yeah.” Jackson sighed. He kept gazing at the photo. Emily and Becca appeared to be close to the same age, but they were mother and daughter. God, how he missed them.

“Jackson?”

Shocked by hearing his name, he raised his head. He’d forgotten Colton was in the room.

“I hate to bother you, but I just came by the front office and Janine is out there, asking to see you.”

“Damn, I’d forgotten all about Janine wanting to talk to me. I left my cell number and she never called. Must be important, though, if she came over here on a work-day.”

Colton shrugged. “Must be. Just thought I’d warn you.”

Almost on cue, his intercom buzzed. He glanced at Colton. “I’ll handle it. Thanks.”

As Jackson pressed the button, Colton walked out. “Yes, Nancy?” he said into the intercom.

“Ms. Taylor’s here to see you.”

“Send her in, please.” He didn’t know what Janine wanted, and he’d really rather not talk to her, but an encounter of some sort was obviously unavoidable.

Janine swept into his office wearing a cream suit with a short skirt and matching heels. Her blond hair was shoulder-length and her blue eyes were frowning at him.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks. I thought you lived in this office. At least you did when we were together.”

Jackson got to his feet and wondered how he’d ever thought he loved this woman. She was nothing like Emily and— He stopped his thoughts. “You had my cell number, Janine. You could’ve called me back,” he remarked in a mild tone.

“I’m sorry,” she immediately apologized. “I’m just feeling tense these days and I wanted to talk to you in person.”

“Have a seat,” Jackson invited.

Janine took the leather chair across from his desk. She crossed her legs and the sight did absolutely nothing for Jackson. Whatever he’d felt for her had died a long time ago.

“How’s your father?” she asked.

“Fine,” he replied. “What’s on your mind, Janine?” He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

She smoothed her stocking-clad knee with a nervous hand. “My life’s a mess and I need help.”

Jackson was thrown by the personal statement. It wasn’t as though he and Janine were the best of friends or shared confidences anymore. They’d divorced and gone their separate ways.

He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure how that concerns me.”

“Oh, Jackson, just let me explain, okay? This is important.”

“What is?”

“You know how hard I’ve worked to make partner in the law firm.”

“It’s been your goal ever since I met you.”

“A month ago Mike Garrett made partner. I was
shocked. He’s been with the firm ten years and I’ve been there twelve. I put in a helluva lot more hours than he does and I bring in more clients, but he made partner because he has connections and he’s a man. I can see now that a woman will never succeed in this firm and I’ve made my position very clear. I’m leaving.”

Jackson shook his head. “Janine, I sympathize with you. I know how hard you’ve worked and how badly you wanted to become a partner, but shouldn’t you be talking to your husband? This doesn’t really have anything to do with me.”

“I need your help.”

“But I’m not the one who—”

“I need money.”

“Janine.” He sighed.

“I need twenty thousand to open my own firm. I’ll pay you back. You know I will.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “How does Les feel about you asking me for money?”

Janine looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.

“You haven’t told him, have you?” he guessed.

“Not yet,” she admitted. “We spent our savings on the new house. We wanted a big place for when his kids come to visit and we wanted a pool and a tennis court for entertaining. It was extravagant, but I didn’t know my career was going to fall apart.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he was. Her ambitions had dictated the course of Janine’s life; this failure must be harrowing for her.

She raised her eyes to his. “Please help me. You’re the only person I know who’s got that kind of money.”

Jackson didn’t want any ties to Janine, but he couldn’t say no. “I can’t lend you money unless you tell Les,” he warned.

“We’ve talked about the idea of me opening my own firm, but we couldn’t afford to borrow any more money. Besides, this is my decision and no man tells me what I can and can’t do. You know me well enough to know that.”

Yes, he did. All through their marriage, she’d never wavered on any decision, especially about having children. Secretly he suspected she’d married Les because he already had kids and it wouldn’t be an issue. Janine’s life was her career. He’d learned that the hard way. Looking back, he could see they’d been so wrong for each other. He’d wanted a home and family and she’d wanted security. Ironically she was still fighting for security, as he was for a family. Their lives might not intersect anymore, but he genuinely wished her well.

He opened a drawer, pulled out his checkbook and began to write. “I don’t keep that much money in my checking account, but I’ll make sure the money’s there tomorrow.” He held out the check.