Chapter Eighteen
“MOM, I NEED to tell you something,” Becca said on Monday morning.
Harper sat at the breakfast table, her tablet in front of her, her third cup of coffee in her hand. She was trying a new organization program with a phone and tablet app that allowed her to sync her devices, but she was having trouble getting the hang of it. She had the feeling it was going to be worth the effort, but until then, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing when.
She was about to tell Becca this wasn’t a good time when she remembered about Ashton, her daughter’s first boyfriend. Thank God, Becca was finally going to reveal all.
“Sure,” she said brightly, closing her tablet and smiling at her daughter. “What’s up, honey?”
Becca shuffled from foot to foot before sitting down and looking at Harper.
“It’s about Dad.”
“Dad? I thought...” She cleared her throat. “Okay, tell me about Dad.”
Becca looked down, back at her, then squeezed her eyes tightly shut before blurting, “He’s getting married at the end of the month.” She opened her eyes. “I wanted to tell you before but I thought you’d be mad or upset or something and I’m really sorry but I have to go. I’m in the wedding. Alicia doesn’t want me to be but Dad made her and I have to wear a stupid dress and it’s gross and I’m scared and I really want you to come with me. Please?”
Harper hadn’t seen her mother since Stacey had dropped the baby bomb on her yesterday. After getting the recap from her sister, she’d gone to check on Bunny, but her mother had gone out and hadn’t returned until late in the evening. Harper had tried to imagine how shocked and upset she might be, but she knew she hadn’t come close. Until now.
Terence was getting married? Married! Not that she wanted him back, but WTF? The bastard couldn’t be bothered to tell her himself? And to make Becca be in the wedding? And he was getting married again?
She wanted to throw something. Or scream. Or both. Instead she had to suck it up because that was what she always did—suck it up for the greater good—and talk like a normal person so as not to terrify her daughter.
“Your dad hasn’t said anything to me,” she said, doing her best not to sound shrill. “If you don’t want to be in the wedding, tell him. Or I’ll tell him.”
“I know, but it’s just easier to do it and then it’s over. I know he doesn’t really care if I’m there or not. He just wants to say I was there.”
“Becca, your dad loves you.”
“I hear that a lot, but he sure doesn’t act like it. He never listens. No one listens.”
All Harper’s mother-senses went on alert. She recognized that quiet, resigned, unhappy tone. It was way worse than talking back or sarcasm or anything annoying. It was filled with sadness and resignation. As if the worst had occurred and couldn’t be mended or undone.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “I listen.”
Becca rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Mom, you never listen. Not anymore. You’re busy with work all the time. Everything is more important than me. If a client calls, the entire world has to come to a halt. I could be lying on the kitchen floor, shot, and you would still take a client call.”
Harper felt the words as if they were physical blows. She wanted to duck and weave, to protect herself from the assault, but she was too shocked to speak.
Her daughter stood and glared at her. “You don’t know me anymore. You don’t know what happened with Kaylee or Jordan or Nathan. You don’t know anything!”
Becca grabbed her backpack and stormed out of the kitchen. Harper rose and stared after her, not sure what to do. She glanced at the clock and realized school would be starting in half an hour. No doubt Becca had timed the conversation about her father so that she had an excuse to bolt, but Harper doubted she’d expected the conversation to go so badly.
She tried to breathe and couldn’t, then collapsed back in her chair. Her daughter’s words continued to echo—that Harper didn’t know anything about her life. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t true, but look at how wrong she’d been about Ashton. And she had no idea what Becca meant about Jordan, Kaylee and some other kid.
It wasn’t her fault, she told herself as she fought against tears. She was trying to keep them afloat financially. Things were difficult and she had to focus on keeping food on the table and—
Had she really lost touch with Becca? Had she really screwed up that badly? Was this just teenage craziness or had her daughter been telling the truth? And if she was, didn’t that make Harper the worst mother alive?
Bunny walked in the back door and slammed it behind her.
“I assume you heard what happened with Stacey?”
Harper wanted to cover her face with her hands and have it all go away. “Mom, I really can’t talk about this right now.”
“You don’t have a choice. Can you believe it? Your sister is a piece of work. I’m so angry.” Bunny’s lower lip trembled. “She was awful to me and the things Kit said... I can’t ever forget them. But the worst part is the baby. She’s going to have a baby in a few weeks and I didn’t know.”
Harper nodded, wishing there was a way to distract her mother so she could run and hide until she stopped hurting so much.
“We need a plan,” her mother said firmly. “Some way to show them they were wrong.”
Harper shook her head. “I’m not going to help you punish Stacey. She’s dealing with enough. Think about it, Mom. This can’t be easy for her. Stacey’s incredibly brilliant but she’s hardly maternal. She didn’t want to tell you. I know that makes you feel bad, but for once consider the fact she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was trying to protect herself. There’s a difference.”
Bunny stared at her. “You knew! You knew all this time and didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Harper thought longingly of the blissful relief of banging her head against a hard surface. Maybe she would give herself amnesia, and then she wouldn’t have to deal with her family at all.
Bunny’s eyes filled with tears that slipped down her cheeks. “How could you do that to me? I’m your mother.”
“And Stacey’s my sister. Mom, I’m really sorry. She asked me not to tell, so I didn’t. I kept her secret.”
“I’m your mother. I thought you loved me. I thought my daughters loved me. It’s always been the two of you against me. This is just like when you were little. You always defended her. You always took her side. What about me? Why don’t I matter?”
“Knock, knock!”
Harper heard Dean’s voice as he let himself into the house and held in a groan. Timing was not on her side this morning.
He walked into the kitchen. “Good morning. How are we do—”
He looked from her to Bunny and immediately started backing out of the room.
“I’ll be in the office,” he mouthed silently.
Lucky him. He got to escape.
Harper turned back to her mother, who was already halfway across the kitchen.
“Mom, wait. Please. We have to talk.”
“There’s nothing to say,” her mother told her. “You both betrayed me. I have to deal with that and what I thought was our relationship. Obviously you two are still much closer to each other than to me. I don’t matter at all. I’m just... Well, I don’t know what. Goodbye, Harper.”
She slammed the door behind her.
Harper honest to God didn’t know what to do. Go after her mother? Chase down Becca? Hire someone to beat the shit out of Terence?
The front door opened again. Seconds later she heard the familiar scramble of dog nails on her tile floors. Jazz came flying down the stairs and went to greet her friend. Harper returned to the kitchen table and reached for her coffee just as Lucas walked in.
“Morning,” he said, then frowned. “What?”
“Oh, you really don’t want to know.”
He sat across from her with an expectant look.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she grumbled. “Fine, you want me to tell you? Fine! In no particular order, my daughter has a boyfriend. I knew she and Ashton were dating, but now it’s serious. And before you can ask, I don’t object. From all I’ve heard, he’s a really good kid. It’s not the boy I mind, it’s that once again, she didn’t tell me.”
She gripped her cup more tightly. “She said we never talk anymore because I don’t have time to listen. She said I don’t care about her.” She felt tears and just let them fall. “I do care. She’s my kid, my world. But I’ve totally screwed up and that sucks.”
She cleared her throat. “Stacey finally told Bunny about the baby. That was a disaster, as you can imagine, but right after Becca dumped on me, Bunny figured out I’d known all along. Now I’m the other bad daughter. So I’m fighting with my daughter and my mother and I’m the common denominator, so what if it’s my fault? Also, Terence is marrying the bimbo at the end of the month. The bastard never told me and while I don’t care, he should have said something. Becca has to go to the wedding and she’s upset and wants me to go with her. Although if I’m such a shitty mother, I’m not sure why, but hey, I’ll go because even though she doesn’t believe me, I do love her and would walk through fire for her, so I have to go to the wedding and I suppose the only good thing is the bimbo will be upset. Although I’m not really the kind of person who wants to upset a bride on her wedding day, even her, so where does that leave me and aren’t you sorry you asked?”
Lucas’s gaze was steady, his green eyes unreadable. “Do you need a hug?”
The question was so unexpected, she started to laugh, which oddly made her cry harder. Then the most unexpected thing happened. Lucas walked around the table, pulled her to her feet and, well, hugged her.
It wasn’t romantic or sexy. Instead it was solid and encompassing and even after a minute, he didn’t let go. He just hugged her, despite her crying into his crisp, white shirt.
He held on until she could breathe again and the tears had subsided. Then, only then, did he release her.
She wiped her face. “Thank you, Lucas. I guess I did need a hug.”
One shoulder rose and fell. “Happy to help.” He pulled an index card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “A new client. He wants custom baskets delivered to the staff of a specialized nursing facility every week. His daughter is in a coma and he wants to thank the staff for taking such good care of her.”
“Thanks.” She glanced at the card. “That’s not going to be cheap.”
“He has money.”
“Not a cop?”
“No, he’s a former drug kingpin who turned his life around.” Lucas waved away any questions. “Don’t ask. He’s someone I know, but not a friend. But when he mentioned what he needed, I thought of you. If the idea of working with him makes you uncomfortable, don’t call him. I didn’t give him your name.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Think about it. I have to get to work.” He hesitated. “You okay?”
“No, but I will be.”
“You know how to reach me if you need anything.”
“Like another hug?” she asked, hoping she sounded teasing rather than pathetic.
“Whatever. Just text me.”
She nodded and he left. Seconds later Dean appeared and snatched the card from her hand.
“We so have to work for this guy. I wonder if we’ll meet him. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”
“He used to be a drug dealer, so no.”
Dean raised his eyebrows. “Not a lowly drug dealer, he was a drug kingpin.”
“How is that different?”
“He was in management.”
Despite everything, Harper started to laugh. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“Lance says that all the time but the truth is I have an adventurous spirit and he doesn’t. Speaking of adventures, you told me this job was going to be boring. You were so wrong.”
She groaned. “You heard?”
“Oh, honey, the neighbors heard.” His expression turned concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Like I said before, no, but I will be.”
“You need a date for your ex’s wedding. Showing up by yourself will make you feel awful. I’d offer to go, but Lance is traveling the rest of the month so if I’m not here, I’m with the twins.” He glanced toward the front door. “What about Lucas? He’s very handsome and I’m sure he knows how to behave. You could ask him to bring his gun and shoot the groom.” He winked. “Or the bride. Your choice.”
“No one is getting shot and he would never go with me.” She laughed at the thought. “Lucas’s idea of a good time is a woman between the ages of twenty and twenty-two. It would be like hanging out with his mother.”
“I’m not talking about a date. You need an escort.” His eyes widened. “Oh, I have friends who are professional escorts and part-time models. Want me to call one of them?”
“No.” She poked him in the chest. “I mean that, Dean. No escorts. No boyfriends, no guns. I will go with Becca, assuming she still wants me to, and I will be fine.”
“If you say so, but I still think you should ask Lucas.” He tapped the index card against his palm. “I really want this new client. Say no if you disagree.”
“Go for it,” she told him. “Let’s add a former drug kingpin to the stable.”
* * *
Stacey continued to experience the fallout of her Bunny encounter for several days. The vague sense of impending disaster never fully went away—not that anything bad was going to happen. She knew that. It was just fighting with her mother had never ended well, at least not for her. Bunny seemed blessed with an ability to skate through life without an emotional scratch.
While Kit told her about his day, she found herself barely able to listen. She didn’t want to eat or do much of anything. The most appealing thought for the evening was to simply curl up in her bed and wait for the icky feelings to go away.
A ridiculous idea, she told herself. There were several ways to change a mood, and many of them were safe during her pregnancy. Exercise, for example. Or she and Kit could watch a funny movie. Many studies showed that—
“There’s something wrong with Bay,” Kit said as he tossed down his napkin and stood. He circled the table to crouch by the dog, who was standing by the back door.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s been pacing for a couple of hours. I’ve let her out, but she doesn’t want to leave the house. She didn’t eat her dinner.” He stroked her head. “What’s going on, little girl?”
The dog looked at him and whined, then started walking around the living room. Stacey watched and saw that he was right. She did seem agitated, almost uncomfortable.
“She’s in labor.” Stacey sprang to her feet, prepared to go into birthing mode. Not that there was anything for her to do. “We should take her temperature. If it’s dropped, then she’ll go into labor in the next twenty-four hours.” She studied the pacing dog. “Maybe it’s too late for that.”
They’d already set up a comfortable canine maternity ward in Kit’s office. He’d sectioned off about a quarter of the room, putting up a low wall that Bay could easily step over while the puppies would be contained. There was a large, thick, mattress-style dog bed with a plastic cover. Old sheets were on top of that. Clean newsprint covered the floor.
“Bay, do you want to go get settled?” she asked, patting her leg and leading the way to the office.
Bay followed. She’d seen the birthing area before, had sniffed it all, but hadn’t wanted to stretch out on the bed. Now she stepped inside, then went back out and back in again. She sniffed it all before lying down on the mattress and locking her gaze with Stacey’s.
The message was clear. Don’t leave me.
“I’ll be right here,” Stacey promised. “I’m going to stay for as long as it takes.”
Kit brought in lots of pillows along with a low beach backrest, so Stacey could get comfortable. They put on classical music and offered Bay water, which she refused. She got up and tore a few of the papers into shreds, then went back to the bed.
“I’m scared,” Stacey admitted, squeezing Kit’s hand. “What if something goes wrong?”
“What if something doesn’t?” he asked. “She’s done this before. The vet says she’ll know what to do and we have the information for the emergency vet clinic programmed into our phones. If it gets bad, we’ll throw her in the car and take her with us.”
Ashton got home about eight and joined them. Bay wagged her stubby little tail when she saw him, then closed her eyes as her breathing changed.
“Females go through a lot,” he said, shaking his head. “I sure wouldn’t do that.”
Stacey thought about the baby she was carrying. She wasn’t overly concerned about giving birth. She understood the process and had already discussed pain management with her doctor. It was what came after that had her terrified. How was she supposed to know what to do? She was less than two months from her due date and she still didn’t feel a connection or any sense of bonding.
By nine o’clock, the first of the puppies had been born. Bay licked the puppy clean, then allowed Kit to tie off the umbilical cord with a bit of dental floss. Two more puppies were born right after each other. Within the hour, they were all nursing and Bay had fallen asleep. Kit and Ashton cleaned up the dirty newspaper and laid down fresh.
The vet had said to wait a few hours before offering her food, then only small, frequent meals until she was ready for more. Kit and Ashton worked out a schedule that excluded her, despite Stacey’s willingness to get up and feed Bay.
“You need to rest,” her husband told her. “We’ll handle this.”
But after everyone had gone to bed, Stacey returned to sit with Bay. The Doberman opened her eyes and wagged her tail, but otherwise didn’t move. The three tiny puppies were curled up against her, asleep.
“You were great,” she told the new mother. “You handled it all perfectly. You were brave and so smart. You knew exactly what to do.”
Stacey pressed her hand to her belly and willed herself to feel something. Anticipation, hope, anything but the ongoing sense of terror and disconnection.
“I don’t think I can do it,” she whispered to the dog. “I don’t know how to be a mother. I’ve never wanted to learn. I’m not that interested in people and I’ve never enjoyed being around children. I don’t understand them. Babies are even more confusing. That level of dependency doesn’t make me comfortable.”
She thought about all that had happened. Her fight with her mother, how Harper and Kit had tricked her into going shopping because they couldn’t just ask her without her refusing.
“I’m not going to be a good mother,” she told Bay. “I don’t have it in me. My mom always said there was something wrong with me and now I know she was right.” Her eyes burned with tears. “What if I can’t love my baby? Worse, what if she knows? I’m not like you, Bay. I don’t have instincts. I just have my brain and every now and then I have to admit it does me absolutely no good. This is one of those times. I can’t think myself into loving my baby. I’m going to mess her up and I don’t know how to make it better. Kit is going to be disappointed in me and I don’t think I can survive that.”
She curled up on the floor and cried until there were no tears left. She got cold and her back hurt, but she stayed where she was until she heard Kit walk into his office. He settled next to her, then gently drew her into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know how to be a good mother. I’m afraid Joule is going to hate me.” She was mostly afraid she would lose him to their daughter, but there was no way to tell him that.
He put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Has it occurred to you that of all the women I could have married, I chose you, Stacey? You’re the one I want to spend my life with. You’re the one I want to have our daughter with. I want this to happen with you. Just you.”
She nodded and leaned close so he could kiss her. That would make him think she understood and that everything was fine. Even though it wasn’t at all.