my business.â
âNo.â Her hand fell to her side. âOh, Vanâ¦â
âWell, it isnât, after all.â Slowly, deliberately, Vanessa patched up the cracks in her shield. âYou and my father had been divorced for years before he died. Youâre certainly free to choose your own companions.â
The censure in her daughterâs voice had Lorettaâs spine straightening. There were many things, many, that she regretted, that had caused her shame. Her relationship with Abraham Tucker wasnât one of them.
âYouâre absolutely right,â she said, her voice cool. âIâm not embarrassed, and I certainly donât feel guilty, about seeing Ham. Weâre adults, and both of us are free.â The tilt of her chin as she spoke was very like her daughterâs. âPerhaps I felt odd about what started between us, because of Emily. She had been my oldest and dearest friend. But Emily was gone, and both Ham and I were alone. And maybe the fact that we both had loved Emily had something to do with our growing closer. Iâm very proud that he cares for me,â she said, color dotting her cheeks. âIn the past few years, heâs given me something Iâve never had from another man. Understanding.â
She turned and hurried up the stairs. She was standing in front of her dresser, removing her jewelry, when Vanessa came in.
âI apologize if I seemed too critical.â
Loretta slapped the pearls down on the wood. âI donât want you to apologize like some polite stranger, Vanessa.Youâre my daughter. Iâd rather you shouted at me. Iâd rather you slammed doors or stormed into your room the way you used to.â
âI nearly did.â She walked farther into the room, running a hand over the back of a small, tufted chair. Even that was new, she thoughtâthe little blue ladyâs chair that so suited the woman who was her mother. Calmer now, and more than a little ashamed, she chose her next words carefully. âI donât resent your relationship with Dr. Tucker. Really. It surprised me, certainly. And what I said before is true. Itâs none of my business.â
âVanââ
âNo, please.â Vanessa held up a hand. âWhen I first drove into town, I thought nothing had changed. But I was wrong. Itâs difficult to accept that. Itâs difficult to accept that you moved on so easily.â
âMoved on, yes,â Loretta said. âBut not easily.â
Vanessa looked up, passion in her eyes. âWhy did you let me go?â
âI had no choice,â Loretta said simply. âAnd at the time I tried to believe it was what was best for you. What you wanted.â
âWhat I wanted?â The anger she wanted so badly to control seeped out as bitterness. âDid anyone ever ask me what I wanted?â
âI tried. In every letter I wrote you, I begged you to tell me if you were happy, if you wanted to come home. When you sent them back unopened, I knew I had my answer.â
The color ran into and then out of Vanessaâs face as she stared at Loretta. âYou never wrote me.â
âI wrote you for years, hoping that you might find the compassion to open at least one.â
âThere were no letters,â Vanessa said, very deliberately, her hands clenching and unclenching.
Without a word, Loretta went over to an enameled trunk at the foot of her bed. She drew out a deep box and removed the lid. âI kept them,â she said.
Vanessa looked in and saw dozens of letters, addressed to her at hotels throughout Europe and the States. Her stomach convulsing, she took careful breaths and sat on the edge of the bed.
âYou never saw them, did you?â Loretta murmured. Vanessa could only shake her head. âHe would deny me even such a little thing as a letter.â With a sigh, Loretta set the box back in the trunk.â
âWhy?â
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