Emily's Daughter (21 page)

“Thank you, Jackson,” she said as she stood to take it from him. “You won’t regret this.”

“Tell Les. That’s my only condition,” he told her.

“I will,” she agreed. Putting the check in her purse, she noticed the picture of Becca.

“Who’s the pretty young girl?”

Jackson took a breath and couldn’t keep the words from slipping out. “My daughter.”

“What?” Janine drew back in shock.

“She’s my daughter,” he repeated.

“A daughter? When did this happen?”

“She’ll be eighteen in August. I just found out about her.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure she’s yours? I mean…”

“She’s mine, Janine. There’s no question about it.”

“I see,” she said, and lightly touched the picture. “The mother never told you about her?”

“No” was all he said. He didn’t want to discuss Emily or Becca with Janine.

“All the time we were married, you wanted a child. Maybe if we’d known about her our marriage might have worked out differently.”

It wouldn’t have, simply because he didn’t love Janine the way he loved Emily. But he couldn’t hurt her feelings by saying that. He stood. “Maybe, but we’ll never know,” he murmured. “I hope everything goes well with the new practice.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” she said as she made her way to the door. She turned back. “I’m glad you have a daughter.”

“Me, too,” he said. “Goodbye, Janine.” He was glad they could remain cordial.

As soon as she’d left, he picked up the album and photo. He knew someone who needed to see these. His dad.

G
EORGE WASN’T IN THE HOUSE,
which meant he was out fishing. He always kept iced tea in the refrigerator so Jackson poured two glasses and carried them onto the deck. He saw his father in a boat on the lake. He waved and George waved back. He heard the gunning of the outboard motor and knew he was headed for shore. Jackson went back into the house and brought out a box and set it on the patio table. He’d had Jeff, an employee, make copies of every picture in the album, knowing his dad would want them.

Jackson relaxed in a redwood chair and waited. It wasn’t long before George pulled the boat onto shore and strolled to the house.

“Jack, my boy, what brings you out in the middle of the afternoon?” George called.

“Catch anything?” he asked, avoiding the question.

“Not a damn thing,” George replied as he walked up the steps. He removed his wide-brimmed straw hat and sat down. “It’s May and it’s already hot. Guess the fish are lazy.” He reached for the tea and took several swallows. “Thanks, son.”

“No problem,” Jackson said.

George removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his brow. “If this heat keeps up, we’re gonna have one helluva hot summer.”

“Probably.”

George noticed the box. “What’s in there?”

“Something I thought you might like to have.”

“If it’s more of those books on how to use my computer, I—”

“It’s not about your computer.” He smiled and opened the box. First he pulled out the eight-by-ten he’d had framed. “Thought you might want to see your granddaughter,” he added, placing the picture in front of him.

“Oh, oh, oh.” A pleasurable moan escaped his throat. “Is that her?”

“That’s Becca,” Jackson assured him.

“She’s so pretty and grown-up—and oh, my God.”

“What?” Jackson asked at his startled voice.

“She has the Jackson nose and mouth. I wish Sarah could see this.” Jackson was his mother’s maiden name.

He stood and put an arm around his father’s shoulder. Not wanting this to be a sad time, he pulled the album forward.

“Here she is from the day she was born.”

As George studied each picture, he dabbed at his eyes
several times. “Thanks, son. This is the best gift you’ve ever given me.”

“Better than that expensive computer you never use.”

George grinned. “Much better.”

Jackson felt the same way and he was glad Emily had made the kind gesture. It meant she was thinking about him. That gave him hope.

E
MILY WAS AT HER WIT’S END
with Becca’s rebellion, and she was getting a glimpse of what her mother had gone through. While she couldn’t talk to Becca, she could talk to Rose. The therapy sessions had helped tremendously. In the therapist’s opinion, Rose had actually had a nervous breakdown eighteen years ago, and her guilt over making Emily give her baby up for adoption, plus not wanting her own child had driven her to it. Emily found it so much easier to understand when another person explained it, but at times it was still difficult to accept.

Becca was slowly starting to talk to Rose, which Emily saw as a positive sign. The only person Becca had consistent difficulty with was Emily, but Emily kept waiting for things to change.

One day she was about to knock on Becca’s door, but stopped when she heard her talking, obviously on the phone. As she began to move away, she heard Becca say
Jackson.
She was talking to Jackson and she didn’t sound belligerent; she sounded almost happy. Silently, Emily went back to her room.

How long had they been calling each other? Becca hadn’t said a word, and Jackson—she hadn’t talked to him since he’d left. Every day she’d waited for him to call, to thank her for the photos, but he hadn’t, and she recognized that he was upset…and that he was giving her the time she’d asked for. Still, she wanted to hear his voice. She
didn’t call him, though, and she knew that had something to do with his not coming back all those years ago. Was she trying to punish him? The thought shocked her and she fought a wave of panic.

She loved Jackson and even subconsciously she wouldn’t do such a thing. Would she? She needed him and so did Becca—that was very plain from the way she was talking to him. Emily knew she’d been so wrong when she’d insisted on this separation. Becca responded to Jackson much more than she did to her. Becca was angry with
her,
but she didn’t have that anger toward Jackson.

Oh, God, what had she done? Lying in bed, she could almost hear Jackson’s warm voice washing over her. It had been so long since he’d touched her and she ached for him, ached for everything she’d lost.

All she had to do was pick up the phone, but in truth she knew she wasn’t ready. She had to resolve things with Becca first.

J
ACKSON SPENT HIS DAYS
waiting for evenings, when he could talk to Becca. She had her own phone line, a gift from Emily, and he called every night when he knew she’d be there. At first the conversations were stilted and short. She never told him she didn’t want to talk, though, and gradually their talks became longer.

Then one day the phone rang, and it was Becca. That was a shock, but it didn’t take him long to recover. Becca wanted to let him know that she was planning to move in with her friend Ginger. She was old enough to do what she wanted and she was tired of everyone being on her case, she said. Jackson knew it was a cry for help, and he prayed for the right response.

He told her she was indeed old enough, but with age came responsibility. Was she responsible enough to be out on her own? She was quiet for a long time, then admitted she wasn’t sure. Jackson let out a sigh of relief. What Becca was trying to do here was hurt Emily, and he wanted to make sure that didn’t happen. Yet he had to avoid actually saying those words.

A few days later she called again. This time she said she’d decided not to go to college. She was planning to travel across the United States on a motorcycle with her boyfriend, Tommy. He had to restrain himself, but he felt it was a test—to see how he’d react.

When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Aren’t you gonna try and talk me out of it?”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

Silence.

“I want you to be happy,” he finally said. “If traveling on a motorcycle will make you happy, then I’ll have to accept it, but I’d miss you terribly.”

“You would?”

Behind the words, he heard a desperate need for love. “You bet I would, angel.”

“What did you call me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said in apology, not wanting to rush her. “But in my head, that’s what I call you. My angel, my light at the end of a long, hard day.”

“Jeez.” She sighed, and Jackson waited for sharp, piercing words. They didn’t come and he felt they were making progress. He hoped they were. He wanted to ask about Emily and had to force himself not to.

After that, she called on a regular basis. It was, as he’d told her, the highlight of his day. One evening he was at his father’s trying to pacify George’s urgent need to see his granddaughter, when she called. Jackson was startled. She never called him at his dad’s. They talked for a while about school and graduation. George was cooking supper and he made some noise with a pot.

“Is that my grandfather?” she asked.

Jackson was taken aback by the question. Again he didn’t want to rush her, but he wouldn’t lie, either. “Yeah, he’s cooking us a bite to eat and you should taste his food— Artery-clogging specialties.”

Becca laughed. It was the first time he’d heard that bubbly, bright sound and it warmed his heart. “Can I say hi to him?”

He didn’t answer right away. His dad had been waiting
for this moment, but Jackson wanted to be sure Becca was ready. “Okay, but Becca—”

“It’s all right,” she broke in. “I’d really like to talk to him.”

Jackson put the phone down and turned to his father. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

“If it’s Maudie, tell her I’m busy.” His dad was so engrossed in his cooking he hadn’t even realized who Jackson was talking to.

“It’s not Aunt Maude, it’s Becca.”

“What?” George whirled around, his eyes enormous in a pale face.

Jackson held the receiver out to him.

“It’s really my granddaughter?”

Jackson smiled. “Yeah, Dad, it’s really Becca and if you don’t hurry, she might hang up.”

George wiped his hands on a towel and took the receiver. Jackson noticed that his hand was shaking.

They talked for a few minutes, then George gave him back the phone, wiping away a tear. Jackson wanted to tell her how proud he was of her, but he didn’t. He let her talk; that seemed to be the course of their conversations. Soon he hung up.

“She invited me to her graduation,” George said excitedly.

“I know, she invited me, too.”

George frowned. “You’re not gonna ask me not to go, are you, son?”

“No,” Jackson replied. “She seems to want us there, and that’s good. I think she’s coming around, but we still have to be patient.”

George agreed, and Jackson knew his dad would do anything he had to. They both were willing to do whatever Becca needed. Jackson wondered if Emily was aware that
Becca had invited them. Surely she was, and that gave him a good feeling. He could look at things more clearly now. Emily was dealing with a lot of raw emotion and she was fighting for her daughter—their daughter. He understood that. He was just sorry he’d gotten angry with her. He missed her so much, especially at night when she was all he thought about. He was hoping that graduation would prove to be a big night not only for Becca, but also for him and Emily. And maybe, just maybe, they could talk and he wouldn’t be coming back to Dallas for a while.

B
Y THE TIME GRADUATION
came around, Emily was exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. She didn’t know how much more of her daughter’s rebellious behavior she could take. Becca defied her at every turn. She stayed out late and started running with a wild crowd, but Emily dogged her every move, terrified that Becca’s rebellion would drive her to make the same mistakes Emily had made.

Emily wanted to call Jackson, but again she didn’t. She just kept hoping Becca’s attitude would change. Then, all of a sudden, it happened. Becca became subdued instead of aggressive, although, Emily had no idea why. Becca still talked to Jackson, and Emily was tempted to ask if she’d thought about inviting him to her graduation, but she didn’t do that, either. It had to be Becca’s decision.

But Emily did make a decision of her own. After graduation, they were moving to Houston, to her condo. Becca took the news relatively well. They didn’t even argue about it and for that Emily was grateful. She couldn’t handle the commute any longer. Getting up at four each morning had taken its toll on her emotional stamina.

Her parents were worried, but she assured them they’d be okay. She knew they would miss Becca; however, a
change of environment would be good for everyone. Despite the stress in the household, Rose’s health had improved. Emily knew that was largely due to the fact that Becca was now Emily’s responsibility, and she realized that raising Becca had taken its toll on Rose’s health. Guilt had a lot to do with it, too, of course. Now that her secret was out, Rose was almost back to her old self, the mother Emily remembered from her childhood. Not only that, Rose and Becca were able to have civil conversations these days. That was the good thing that had come out of all this. Becca had forgiven Rose but Emily had to wonder if Becca would ever forgive
her.

G
RADUATION WAS A BIG NIGHT,
and the place was packed. Emily wore a lavender suit and sat with Rose and Owen. She’d given Becca a gold-and-diamond watch for graduation; Becca had accepted it graciously. She didn’t throw it back in Emily’s face or say anything hurtful. Emily took that as a good omen for the evening.

As Becca walked across the stage to accept her diploma, Emily’s heart swelled with pride. This was her baby and she was graduating. Emily fought back tears. Becca was one of the top students in her class and Emily knew that if she applied herself she could do anything she wanted in this world.

When Becca walked offstage, she waved to someone and Emily strained to see who it was.
Jackson.
Her pulse hammered rapidly. Jackson was here, and it looked like Mr. Talbert was with him. Had Becca invited them? Why had no one said anything? The evening took a nosedive and she felt hurt and left out.
Was this how Jackson had felt?
Oh, God, there was too much hurt, too much suffering, and it had to stop.

She and Jackson should be here together, sharing this
moment in joy and love, but the gulf between them seemed to be growing wider and wider.

J
ACKSON LOOKED ALL AROUND
for Emily, but he couldn’t find her. After the ceremony, Becca rushed over to them. Jackson hugged her and she hugged him back, then he introduced George. Unable to resist, George hugged her, too. Jackson held his breath, but Becca just laughed her bubbly laugh.

Jackson pulled a velvet box from his suit pocket. “Something from Dad and me for your graduation.”

Becca popped open the lid. “Oh,” she breathed as she stared at the gold heart encircled with diamonds.

“It belonged to my mother. I thought you might like to have it.”

“Oh…it’s beautiful.” She glanced at Jackson. “Thank you. Put it on me, please.” Becca gathered her long hair, holding it away from her neck.

Jackson took the necklace from its resting place and fastened it. She fingered the pendant as it lay just below her chin.

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Not near as beautiful as the young lady wearing it,” George replied before Jackson could speak.

“Ah, jeez.” Becca grinned.

People were milling around them and Jackson just had to ask. “Where’s Emily?”

Becca pointed across the room. “She’s over there. I guess you want to see her.”

A complete change came over Becca when he mentioned Emily, and he knew things were not good between them. Nevertheless, all three of them moved across the floor to where the Coopers stood. Despite the crowd, Jackson saw only one person—Emily. She looked gorgeous,
but her eyes were tired and he could see the strain on her face.

Emily saw them coming and she stared at Jackson, gazing her fill. He was so handsome in that dark-blue suit and all she wanted to do was to throw her arms around him and forget everyone else in this room. But, of course, she didn’t. She politely shook hands, as did her parents.

Her cool reception threw Jackson. There was no welcome in her eyes—just hurt—and his heart sank. The evening was not turning out the way he’d hoped.

“You sure have a beautiful daughter, Emily,” George was saying.

“Thank you,” Emily replied courteously. “I think she’s just about perfect.”

“Yeah, right,” Becca sighed sarcastically, and Jackson knew for sure that things had deteriorated between them. What had happened?

George was startled by Becca’s tone, and Jackson started to step in and say something, but he’d promised to let Emily handle Becca. He had to keep that promise. His arms were aching to hold her, to ease the agony in her eyes, but until she asked for his help, he couldn’t do that, either.

Emily heard them saying their goodbyes, but she was stuck on the outer edge of reality and she couldn’t find her way back. The pain in her chest kept her hanging there, alone, with help from no one, and that was another cold truth she had to accept.

Jackson looked into her eyes for endless seconds, waiting for a sign, anything to show that she needed him. There was nothing. She seemed lost in a place he couldn’t reach. It frightened him and yet he was powerless to intervene.

As Jackson and his father walked away, Emily struggled
to find her voice, but it was buried deep inside with all the hurt and pain.

Jackson, don’t go. Please come back.

The words rattled through her throat, then sank to the pit of her stomach—a heavy weight that threatened to take her down. Through sheer willpower, she maintained her balance. But the price was way too high and she didn’t know if she’d survive much more of this.

B
EFORE THEY LEFT
for Houston, Rose wanted to have a birthday party for Becca, but Becca adamantly refused, saying she wasn’t going to celebrate her birthday anymore. They acquiesced to her wishes; Emily thought it was just as well, because soon she’d be celebrating her real birthday. That transition had to be made, but as with everything else, it had to be done with great care.

The move to Houston went smoothly until Becca saw her room. She’d always had a room in Emily’s condo. During previous summers she’d spent a lot of weekends with Emily, whenever Rose would allow it. Emily had the bedroom decorated about five years ago in pink and white, and she’d recently felt it was time for a change. She’d called a decorator and most of the planning had been done on the phone. Emily had very little time, but she wanted the room ready for their homecoming. The color scheme was now cream, burgundy and deep pink. Emily hoped it would be a nice surprise for Becca; it was just the opposite. As Becca looked around, her eyes grew stormy.

“What happened to my room?” she demanded.

“I had it redecorated. Don’t you like it?”

“No, I hate it,” was the angry response. “I want my old room back.”

Emily had to take a deep breath. “I spent a lot of money to make your room special. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Well, I’m not,” Becca spat, and flung long hair over her shoulder with a shake of her head. “You did this for
her,
not me. I was satisfied with my old room.”

Becca’s strange words had a calming effect on Emily. Clearly, she was still struggling with her identity—not knowing who she really was and hating that Emily lavished so much attention on the other Rebecca.

She took a step toward her. “You
are
her, Becca. You’re my daughter.”

“No,” Becca said, shaking her head again. “I
can’t
be her. I’m me. You can’t change me.”

“I’m not trying to change you,” Emily said lovingly, hoping to reach her.

“Yes, you are. You want me to be someone I’m not.”

Emily fought for words to convince her; their relationship depended on it. “I love you just the way you are. I love the same little girl who mailed her tooth to me when she was five.”

“Yeah, I had to because you weren’t around so I could give it to you,” she said sarcastically.

Emily let that pass. “I love the same seven-year-old who called me because she had a hundred-and-four-degree fever and wanted me with her.”

“It was the only way you’d come home.”

Again Emily didn’t react. “And I love the same thirteen-year-old who called me because she had her first period and was afraid. I came home immediately to reassure you.”