Jake.
“Laurel, this isn’t something we should be discussing right here and now. Let’s go back to your room and we can—”
Laurel turned on her father. “You’re making her say those things. I know you are. She wants me to stay with her. I know she does.” Tears streamed down her face. She brushed them away impatiently. Several people stopped to stare.
“Laurel, he’s not making me say anything.”
“I don’t need your help,” Jake said, glaring at her. “You’ve done enough.” He moved close to Laurel and put his arm around her shoulders.
She shrugged it off. “You’re doing this on purpose, Dad. I know you are.” Her voice caught. She sniffed and wiped her face again. “I know the truth. You didn’t think I would figure it out, but I did. Annie loves me. She’s always loved me. You
stole me from her. She didn’t want to let me go, but you made her. You and Mom.” She stood stiffly, with her arms at her sides. Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks. Her skin was blotchy and her freckles stood out like painted dots.
Anne’s heart went out to her. So much pain in one teenage child. They were all hurting in different ways.
Jake spun toward her. “Is this what you tell her when my back is turned? What the hell kind of lies are you—?”
“Don’t talk to Annie that way,” Laurel said, coming to stand in front of her father. “She didn’t have to tell me. I figured it out on my own. You stole me from my birth mother.”
The crowd around them was getting larger by the second. Anne felt a heated blush climbing her cheeks. She didn’t like being the center of attention. She bent toward the bench and grabbed an armful of packages. “Here.” She thrust them at Laurel. Quickly she picked up the rest, then slipped her purse strap up over her shoulder. “Can we please continue this upstairs in your hotel room?”
Jake glanced around as if just realizing the interested group hovering nearby. He took Laurel’s arm and led her through the crowd toward the elevators. Anne followed behind.
The ride up to the room was accomplished in silence, except for Laurel’s muted sniffs and the rustling of paper bags. Jake opened the hotel room door, then stepped inside. He walked over to the window overlooking downtown Houston and stood there, his back to the room.
Must be a favorite position of his, Anne thought, dropping her packages into a wing chair. Staring out into the great beyond like some cattle baron of the 1800s. Damn. Now what was she supposed to do?
Laurel let her bags fall to the floor. “Annie?” she said, then burst into tears.
Anne reacted without thinking. She opened her arms and, when Laurel threw herself against her, she hugged the girl close. “It’s going to all work out,” she said softly, hoping she wasn’t lying.
“No, it’s not,” Laurel said between sobs, her voice muffled against Anne’s shoulder. “It’s not. He won’t let me stay with you. But I have to.” She raised her head. Those familiar hazel eyes, her own mother’s eyes, stared back at Anne. “Don’t let him take me away again. Please.”
“Oh, baby.” Anne brushed her fingers against her daughter’s cheek. For the first time in her life, she felt the warm skin and the dampness of Laurel’s tears. She squeezed her tight, loving the lankiness of her daughter’s growing body. She was going to be a beauty, but right now she was a confused, overemotional teenager.
“You look like a wet chipmunk,” Anne said, teasingly.
Laurel raised her head. “My eyes and mouth get all puffy when I cry, huh?” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“I get puffy, too,” Anne said. She touched her arm, briefly. “You’ve really dropped a bomb here, kid. I need to talk to your dad. Why don’t you take your new clothes into your room, wash your face, then try everything on again to make sure you really want to keep it.”
Laurel’s eyes started to fill with tears again. “You’re going to make me
“Laurel, this isn’t something we should be discussing right here and now. Let’s go back to your room and we can—”
Laurel turned on her father. “You’re making her say those things. I know you are. She wants me to stay with her. I know she does.” Tears streamed down her face. She brushed them away impatiently. Several people stopped to stare.
“Laurel, he’s not making me say anything.”
“I don’t need your help,” Jake said, glaring at her. “You’ve done enough.” He moved close to Laurel and put his arm around her shoulders.
She shrugged it off. “You’re doing this on purpose, Dad. I know you are.” Her voice caught. She sniffed and wiped her face again. “I know the truth. You didn’t think I would figure it out, but I did. Annie loves me. She’s always loved me. You
stole me from her. She didn’t want to let me go, but you made her. You and Mom.” She stood stiffly, with her arms at her sides. Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks. Her skin was blotchy and her freckles stood out like painted dots.
Anne’s heart went out to her. So much pain in one teenage child. They were all hurting in different ways.
Jake spun toward her. “Is this what you tell her when my back is turned? What the hell kind of lies are you—?”
“Don’t talk to Annie that way,” Laurel said, coming to stand in front of her father. “She didn’t have to tell me. I figured it out on my own. You stole me from my birth mother.”
The crowd around them was getting larger by the second. Anne felt a heated blush climbing her cheeks. She didn’t like being the center of attention. She bent toward the bench and grabbed an armful of packages. “Here.” She thrust them at Laurel. Quickly she picked up the rest, then slipped her purse strap up over her shoulder. “Can we please continue this upstairs in your hotel room?”
Jake glanced around as if just realizing the interested group hovering nearby. He took Laurel’s arm and led her through the crowd toward the elevators. Anne followed behind.
The ride up to the room was accomplished in silence, except for Laurel’s muted sniffs and the rustling of paper bags. Jake opened the hotel room door, then stepped inside. He walked over to the window overlooking downtown Houston and stood there, his back to the room.
Must be a favorite position of his, Anne thought, dropping her packages into a wing chair. Staring out into the great beyond like some cattle baron of the 1800s. Damn. Now what was she supposed to do?
Laurel let her bags fall to the floor. “Annie?” she said, then burst into tears.
Anne reacted without thinking. She opened her arms and, when Laurel threw herself against her, she hugged the girl close. “It’s going to all work out,” she said softly, hoping she wasn’t lying.
“No, it’s not,” Laurel said between sobs, her voice muffled against Anne’s shoulder. “It’s not. He won’t let me stay with you. But I have to.” She raised her head. Those familiar hazel eyes, her own mother’s eyes, stared back at Anne. “Don’t let him take me away again. Please.”
“Oh, baby.” Anne brushed her fingers against her daughter’s cheek. For the first time in her life, she felt the warm skin and the dampness of Laurel’s tears. She squeezed her tight, loving the lankiness of her daughter’s growing body. She was going to be a beauty, but right now she was a confused, overemotional teenager.
“You look like a wet chipmunk,” Anne said, teasingly.
Laurel raised her head. “My eyes and mouth get all puffy when I cry, huh?” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“I get puffy, too,” Anne said. She touched her arm, briefly. “You’ve really dropped a bomb here, kid. I need to talk to your dad. Why don’t you take your new clothes into your room, wash your face, then try everything on again to make sure you really want to keep it.”
Laurel’s eyes started to fill with tears again. “You’re going to make me
Similar Books
