losses." She placed her other hand over Rebecca's and gave it a quick squeeze. "Is this your mother you're looking for? Are you Mr. Thornton's client?"
Rebecca looked to Jake as if she thought he had any answers. Of course he didn't.
"Yes," she said. "My parents were killed in an automobile accident recently, and I discovered I was adopted."
Doris took a pair of wire framed glasses from a carved wooden box on the coffee table, put them on and scrutinized her closely, then shook her head. "I've thought since I first saw you standing on the porch that you look vaguely familiar, but I'm afraid I can't quite put my finger on it." She sighed. "I've lived a long time, seen a lot of people and watched a lot of television. You're a lovely young woman. You probably look like someone on my favorite soap opera."
But Rebecca didn't believe that.
She couldn't.
Her mother lived in this town.
The phone call last night and Doris Jordan's comment that she looked vaguely familiar verified that hope.
Jake asked more questions, things Rebecca had to admit she would never have thought of, but elicited no more information.
Finally they rose to leave. Doris walked to the door with them.
"Thank you for talking to us, Mrs. Jordan," Jake said. "You have my number at the motel if you remember anything."
"I'll be sure to call if I do." She turned and lifted slim, dry fingers to Rebecca's cheek. "I hope you find what you're looking for, my dear. But try to keep an open mind. It's more likely to be in the future, not the past."
Rebecca felt a lump rise in her throat and could only nod in response.
She hated to leave this woman's house with its feeling of home and belonging. She and Doris Jordan were two of a kind, alone in the world.
But, Rebecca thought in abrupt self-loathing, Doris had come to terms with her aloneness. She wasn't grasping for any pseudo-family member to fill the void the way Rebecca was.
She walked outside with Jake, into the sweltering mid-day heat. He opened the car door for her, and she slid in, the leather hot through the fabric of her slacks.
"We passed a barbecue place on the way here. That sound all right for lunch?"
"Sure."
It didn't. It sounded horrible. Hot and greasy, and she wasn't hungry anyway.
Doris Jordan was probably having a salad or cucumber sandwiches with cream cheese and a huge glass of iced tea for lunch.
She thought of the older woman's words.
What you're looking for...it's more likely to be in the future, not the past.
She'd always forged ahead toward the future, optimistic and determined, searching for whatever lay ahead, whatever might be lacking in her life, always certain she would find that something. Now she had no past and couldn't conceive of a future.
The present was a barbecue lunch with Jake Thornton.
A very present, very temporary, very shaky situation.
It was all she had at the moment...and the present moment was the only fragment of time in which she existed.
Chapter 6
September 30, 1979, Edgewater, Texas
Mary stepped back to study the table and see if she'd forgotten anything. The good china Ben's mother had given them, linen napkins, candles....everything had to be perfect.
She spread one hand over her still-flat stomach and smiled. She'd suspected for the last couple of weeks but hadn't wanted to get Ben's hopes up until she was certain. Though she had been certain in her heart, so certain her joy had filled every crevice of her soul and pushed out all but an occasional stab of the pain and horror that had been her constant companion since that day in August.
Blackness tugged at the edges of her mind even now, but she shoved it aside as she heard Ben's car pull into the driveway. Moving quickly, she lit the candles, determinedly focusing on the happy excitement, leaving no room for that darkness to intrude.
A few moments later his key turned in the door she always kept locked now, and he stepped inside, a big bear of a man, a warm smile on his face.
Rebecca looked to Jake as if she thought he had any answers. Of course he didn't.
"Yes," she said. "My parents were killed in an automobile accident recently, and I discovered I was adopted."
Doris took a pair of wire framed glasses from a carved wooden box on the coffee table, put them on and scrutinized her closely, then shook her head. "I've thought since I first saw you standing on the porch that you look vaguely familiar, but I'm afraid I can't quite put my finger on it." She sighed. "I've lived a long time, seen a lot of people and watched a lot of television. You're a lovely young woman. You probably look like someone on my favorite soap opera."
But Rebecca didn't believe that.
She couldn't.
Her mother lived in this town.
The phone call last night and Doris Jordan's comment that she looked vaguely familiar verified that hope.
Jake asked more questions, things Rebecca had to admit she would never have thought of, but elicited no more information.
Finally they rose to leave. Doris walked to the door with them.
"Thank you for talking to us, Mrs. Jordan," Jake said. "You have my number at the motel if you remember anything."
"I'll be sure to call if I do." She turned and lifted slim, dry fingers to Rebecca's cheek. "I hope you find what you're looking for, my dear. But try to keep an open mind. It's more likely to be in the future, not the past."
Rebecca felt a lump rise in her throat and could only nod in response.
She hated to leave this woman's house with its feeling of home and belonging. She and Doris Jordan were two of a kind, alone in the world.
But, Rebecca thought in abrupt self-loathing, Doris had come to terms with her aloneness. She wasn't grasping for any pseudo-family member to fill the void the way Rebecca was.
She walked outside with Jake, into the sweltering mid-day heat. He opened the car door for her, and she slid in, the leather hot through the fabric of her slacks.
"We passed a barbecue place on the way here. That sound all right for lunch?"
"Sure."
It didn't. It sounded horrible. Hot and greasy, and she wasn't hungry anyway.
Doris Jordan was probably having a salad or cucumber sandwiches with cream cheese and a huge glass of iced tea for lunch.
She thought of the older woman's words.
What you're looking for...it's more likely to be in the future, not the past.
She'd always forged ahead toward the future, optimistic and determined, searching for whatever lay ahead, whatever might be lacking in her life, always certain she would find that something. Now she had no past and couldn't conceive of a future.
The present was a barbecue lunch with Jake Thornton.
A very present, very temporary, very shaky situation.
It was all she had at the moment...and the present moment was the only fragment of time in which she existed.
Chapter 6
September 30, 1979, Edgewater, Texas
Mary stepped back to study the table and see if she'd forgotten anything. The good china Ben's mother had given them, linen napkins, candles....everything had to be perfect.
She spread one hand over her still-flat stomach and smiled. She'd suspected for the last couple of weeks but hadn't wanted to get Ben's hopes up until she was certain. Though she had been certain in her heart, so certain her joy had filled every crevice of her soul and pushed out all but an occasional stab of the pain and horror that had been her constant companion since that day in August.
Blackness tugged at the edges of her mind even now, but she shoved it aside as she heard Ben's car pull into the driveway. Moving quickly, she lit the candles, determinedly focusing on the happy excitement, leaving no room for that darkness to intrude.
A few moments later his key turned in the door she always kept locked now, and he stepped inside, a big bear of a man, a warm smile on his face.
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