Someone Else's Life (15 page)

Holly

When there’s no answer to Josh’s doorbell, I head around to the backyard, to find Melissa midlunge.

Immediately, every inch of me itches to tell her my news, to squeal and scream and leap around celebrating with my best friend.

Not till after Dad
, I remind myself for the hundredth time, biting my tongue.

“Holls!” Melissa grins, looking up. “Perfect timing. Wanna come for a run? It’s, like, a total record—I’ve managed to keep my New Year’s jogging resolution for a whole week!”

“Congrats!” I say, struggling to keep the grin from my face. “But not right now, thanks. Your brother around?”

“Nope.” She jogs on the spot. “Still in bed.”

“Still?”

“Uh-huh. You two must’ve had a pretty
eventful
weekend, huh?” She winks. “He’s exhausted, and you look like the cat that got the cream.”

I beam. “You have no idea.”

“Please—spare me!” She grins, rolling her eyes as she jogs off down the driveway. “See you later, then—some of us have to exercise
alone
.”

I laugh as she blows me a kiss and disappears around the corner, then I push open the back door. Slipping off my sneakers, I creep carefully upstairs, tiptoe to Josh’s bedroom door and listen. Silence. Gently, I ease the handle down …

Josh is lying in bed, grinning at me.

“You’re awake!” I accuse, disappointed. “I wanted to surprise you!”

“You have.” He reaches for me, as I pull off my baggy sweater. “You’re more and more beautiful every day … Is that a new shirt? Wow!”

“Eyes on the
face
.” I grin, climbing onto the bed beside him.

“Always, baby, always,” he insists, stroking my hair. “I meant it brings out the color of your
eyes
.” He grins, pulling me close as I settle into his chest, my fingers twirling and tangling in the soft black curls. He catches my hand and slides his fingers through mine. We look like a candy bar: chocolaty brown striped with creamy vanilla.

“Where’s the ring?” he whispers.

I smile. “Somewhere safe.”

“You’ve managed to keep it a secret?” he asks. “Even with your big mouth?”

“Hey!” I slap his chest and cuddle closer. “For now,” I sigh. “But you’re gonna ask Dad today, right? You go back to Harvard tonight.”

“Yes,” Josh promises, his heart beating faster against my cheek. “I’ll ask him today. After lunch.”

“
Before
lunch,” I beg, sitting up. “Please, Josh, I can’t stand it. I can’t wait any longer!”

“Okay, okay. Before lunch,” Josh relents, pulling me back down and hooking his leg over mine. “Just as soon as I get up the courage.”

“Hey!” I giggle. “That’s not courage you’re getting up!”

He leans his head into my neck, his huge warm body pressing against me, pushing me down into the mattress …

“No!” I laugh, pushing him away. “Joshua Samuels, I don’t believe you’re taking me seriously!”

“Holly Woods.” He grins. “I’ll take you whichever way you like.”

He slides his hand under my top as he nibbles the kink on my right ear, sending shivers tickling deliciously down my spine as I collapse against the pillows …

“No!” With an immense force of will I push him away, struggling upright. “Come on!”

“Not even the pixie ear?” he asks innocently.

“
Especially
not the pixie ear!” I laugh, pulling my sweater back on.

He looks at me mournfully. “You’re really serious?”

“Deadly.” I grin, kissing his nose and fixing my hair. “Not till after lunch! When we’re
officially
engaged.” I lean forward. “Then we can do whatever”—I kiss his cheek—“we”—his nose—“want.” I cup his face and kiss him deeply, pressing myself against him for a long moment. Finally I break away, leaving us both breathless.

He stares at me for a second, then suddenly lifts me, shrieking, over his shoulder.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” he cries. “Come on!”

Rosie

“Ready?” Andy asks.

I nod, my heart racing. “As I’ll ever be.”

He squeezes my hand, I take a deep breath, and we push into the kitchen.

“Oh, good!” Megan looks up from her ironing board. “Holly lent you something to wear—sorry—didn’t mean to leave you without anything! But I thought I’d better get to your clothes before they stained, I hope you don’t mind?”

“Thank you.” I smile. “And I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be silly, it was a party! Ben’s always spilling things—try cleaning up after a toddler!” She grins. “Besides, I think you got the brunt of it, judging from your clothes! All clean now.” She nods at a pile of fresh laundry. “Holl’s are a good fit, though, huh?”

“Yeah.” I shift uncomfortably and glance at Andy. “Is, er, is Holly around?” I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms nervously.

“Nope, sorry, she’s gone out.” Megan shakes her head, her blond curls bouncing as she irons a T-shirt. “She’ll be back for lunch—you’ll stay, right? Then I’ll drop you back at your B and B.”

“Thanks.” I smile, relieved.
She’s not here. There’s still time
.

“Hello—you’re up!” Jack grins, stepping into the kitchen.

“Hi.” I beam, staring at him. I can’t help it. His black hair, his sparkling green eyes. My dad.

“How’s the head?” he asks.

“Oh, fine—fine, thank you,” I stammer. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t be silly.” Jack winks. “You’ve gotta black out on your eighteenth, one way or another—it’s tradition!”

I smile. “And thanks for breakfast, too.”

“Not at all—proper English, eh? None of this pancake malarkey.”

Megan rolls her eyes.

“It was wonderful.” I beam. “Just like home.”

“Hear that?” Jack turns to Megan. “Maybe we should do breakfast at the restaurant too—show ’em how it’s done?”

“We have enough grease as it is, thanks.” Megan laughs. “Besides, you can’t handle the customers you’ve got—there’re seven messages on the machine this morning.”

“Already?”

“Uh-huh.” She looks at him. “You did check it yesterday?”

Jack looks at her blankly. “I … er … um …”

“Jack!” Megan exclaims. “
What
is the point of us having an answering machine if you never check it?”

“I
do
,” Jack protests, looping his arms around her waist. “I
do
—when I remember …”

“And when was the last time you remembered?” Megan asks skeptically.

“Um … yesterday?”

“We’ll see, shall we?” She pushes the button on the machine.

“First message: received Friday, January fifth,”
the machine intones.

Megan cuffs Jack round the head.
“Friday!”

“What can I say?” Jack shrugs. “We had a weekend without the kids—I got distracted …” He nuzzles her neck.

“Jack!” she giggles, pushing him away. “We have company!”

“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “We were just going to—uh—go and change, anyway!” I grab our clothes and head out of the room, Andy following quickly.

“Hello?”
the woman on the answering machine snaps impatiently.
“Jack? Are you there? Jack?”

I freeze in the corridor, the familiar voice stopping me in my tracks.

“Jack!”
she shouts irritably.
“Jack, answer the goddamn phone!”
It’s Kitty.

Holly

“You ready?” I ask, gazing up at Josh as he straightens his jacket. He looks so nervous, standing there in his uncomfortable suit, sweating despite the January chill.

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell him, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “You’re smart, and you’re a Harvard scholar!” I straighten his tie. “What man wouldn’t want you for a son-in-law?”

Josh glances down at me, an anxious smile flickering across his tense features. “Your dad?”

“Don’t worry!” I laugh lightly. “He loves you. Almost as much as I do.” I flash him a grin and push through the back door. To my surprise, both Dad and Megan are sitting at the kitchen table.

No time like the present!

“Daddy …” I smile, taking a deep breath and squeezing Josh’s hand. “Dad, Josh and I have something to ask—”

“Josh, go home, please.”

My smile freezes.
“Dad!”

“Holly,” Megan says softly. I look at her, then back at Dad. His face is tight, tense.

“Please, Josh.” Dad doesn’t look up. “We have some family business to attend to.”

“But Dad—” I glance at Josh. “Daddy, Josh—”

Josh squeezes my hand. “Maybe I should go,” he whispers.

“No!” I hiss, gripping his hand tightly. “No, Josh …”

“It’s not a good time,” he says meaningfully, gently disentangling his fingers and kissing my forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

“Josh—”

I watch as he closes the door behind him, then turn on my father, my blood boiling.

“Well?”
I demand.
“Well?
What’s so important that you had to be so rude?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He doesn’t look up.

I stare at him. “What?”

“Why don’t you tell me,” he continues, “what you were doing in New York?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my cheeks flushing. “It was just a holiday.”

“Just a holiday,” Dad repeats, nodding slowly. “So, what happened?”

“What?”

“Why’d you come back early?” he says tersely. “Why’d you cut your ‘holiday’ short?”

“I—”

“The flight back was paid for, right? Josh won the tickets?” I stare at him.

“So why didn’t you stay the whole weekend?”

He looks up and I falter.

“Okay,” I sigh. “It wasn’t a prize … Josh bought the tickets.”

He closes his eyes, nods grimly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Daddy, but it was the only way we thought you’d let me go—you’d never have let me miss my eightee—”

“So why’d you get the bus back early?” he interrupts, staring at the table. “If Josh paid so much for flights, why miss them?”

I sigh. “We didn’t have flights back,” I confess miserably. “We were always going to get the bus. We only flew down there because Josh got a cheap deal—because I’d never been on a plane before—it was my present.”

“Your present.” Dad nods, his jaw tight.

I move toward him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Then why don’t you tell me the truth?” He looks up sharply, stopping me short.

“What?”

“Why don’t you tell me the
real
reason you went to New York, Holls?”

“I—”

“And what exactly happened to make you come home early.”

He looks straight at me. He knows. I don’t know how, but I can see it in his eyes.

“If you already know, I don’t see why you need me to tell you,” I mutter.

Megan shifts uncomfortably.

“
Because
, Holly, I’m your father and I have a right to—”

“I’m eighteen years old, Dad, I don’t need your permission,” I say bitterly. “Or your approval.”

“My approval? My
approval
?” He stares at me. “Holly, you obviously thought I wouldn’t approve, or you’d have told me yourself!”

I look away, tears stinging my eyes. I never thought he felt that way. Never. I thought he liked Josh—I thought Josh was just being formal by asking his permission. I never dreamed Daddy might say no …

A chill trickles through me.

What’ll he say about the baby?

“Holly, you must see what a mistake this was.”

My insides twist.
A mistake?

Dad sighs. “I don’t think you should have any more contact.”

I stare at him.
“What?”

“It’s for the best.”

“You can’t—you can’t mean it!
Megan!
” I beg her for help, but she looks away. “I won’t,” I say defiantly. “You can’t make me. This is
my
life and I’ll decide who’s in it!”

“No.”

“Dad!”

“I’m sorry, Holly,” he says, rubbing his brow. “I really am, but I can’t just stand by and watch while—”

“Then you don’t have to,” I interrupt quietly.

“What?”

I bite my lip. “If that’s really the way you feel …” He looks away. “… then I’ll move out.”

Dad’s head snaps up.

“We’ll live together,” I tell him, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I’ll leave.”

“Holly!” He stares at me, dumbfounded.

“I don’t want to,” I say, my voice cracking. “But if you make me choose …”

He stares at me, then suddenly stands up. I back away, but to my surprise, he moves over to the counter and clicks a button on the answering machine.

“Jack? Are you there? Jack?”

Dad turns to me. I frown, confused, then glance at Megan, who looks away.

“Jack? Jack, answer the goddamn phone! How dare you send your daughter to me, Jack? We had an agreement. She has nothing to do with me. Do you have any idea what this could do to my career? To my relationship? My life? I knew this was a mistake. I should never have trusted you. I should never have had anything to do with you!”

The message clicks abruptly and there is silence.

Rosie

Oh, God!
I can’t bear this. Can’t bear to hear that awful message again—to stand here behind the half-open kitchen door, watching what it’s doing to Jack—to Holly—but I can’t move either, can’t go back in, can’t speak … Andy’s hand finds mine.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, sweetheart,” Jack sighs. “But it’s for your own good.”

Holly stares at him. “What’s going on? Who was that?”

He sighs again. “Holly …”

“What!”

“Holly, I’m not angry, I just want to know the truth.”

“What truth, Dad? What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head. “We could’ve worked it out, we could’ve handled this together, if you’d just come to me, trusted me. We’ve always trusted each other, haven’t we?” He looks at her, his eyes sad, tired. “It was for the best. Everything I did, I thought it was all for the best.” He squeezes her hand. “How did you find out, Holls?”

She stares at him. “About
what
?”

He presses his eyes shut, screws them so tight it looks painful. “About Katharine.”

Oh, God
 …

She looks at him blankly.

“I
know
, Holly,” he sighs. “I know you went to New York to find Katharine.” He opens his eyes, his features strained. “To find your mother.”

Holly’s mouth drops open as she stares at him, her face deathly pale.

The frustration in Jack’s eyes slowly melts into fear. “
Didn’t
you?”

“Daddy …” She hesitates, her eyes wide. “My mother is dead …”

Oh, God!

“But—but you went to New York—” Jack insists. “You went to find her … you
found
her! …”

Holly shakes her head slowly, her lips trembling. “My mother is dead,” she repeats faintly. “You told me, Daddy. Mommy died. She died when I was born …” She stares at him, swallows. “Didn’t she?”

He just stares at her, horror-struck.

“Daddy?” Holly whispers. “Is my mom alive?”

I close my eyes, praying the ground will just swallow me up.

“But then how … why … I don’t understand …” He falters. “If you didn’t find her—if you didn’t go looking for her …”

“It was me,” a tiny voice mumbles. I’m startled to recognize it as my own. The door swings open and my cheeks burn as everyone turns. I can’t breathe, can’t believe I just said that, but I couldn’t watch any longer.

Jack stares at me. “I’m sorry—what?”

“I—I went to New York—I …” I trail off, the words stuck in my throat as my eyes lock on to Holly’s, so scared, so confused. Oh,
God
 … My heart races and I start to panic.
I can’t
—
I can’t do this!

“Honey.” Megan smiles kindly. “Look, I think you’re a bit confused—could you just give us a minute?”

“Of course,” I breathe, flooded with relief. “Of course, I’m sorry, I—”

“Actually,” Andy says gently, blocking my exit, “you all need to hear this.” He meets my gaze evenly. “It’s really important.”

I stare at him desperately.

“Go on, Rose,” he whispers, squeezing my hand encouragingly. “You can do this.”

I swallow hard and force myself to turn back round.

“I—” I begin, but the words die on my lips as I meet Jack’s gaze. He looks so sad, so lost. And I’m about to make everything a million times worse …

Andy squeezes my hand again. I squeeze back—hard—then take a deep breath, my knees trembling.

“It was me,” I tell them. “I went to New York and found Katharine Sinclare …” I hesitate, search Jack’s big green eyes. “It’s me she’s talking about in her message.”

He frowns, rubs his brow. “I—I don’t understand.”

“I’m her daughter,” I say quickly, the words tumbling out clumsily. His eyes widen, and I look away, burning beneath his gaze. “I’m—I’m
your
daughter.”