“You may have Jack sleeping on your couch.”
Kate looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
“I think he’s on his third shot since your conversation.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter to me where he sleeps.”
“For what it’s worth, he feels like shit.”
Kate couldn’t feel sympathy for him, not when her daughter was going to be punished for both of their mistakes. “How sad for him.”
“Kate? That’s not fair.” David’s admonishment was deserved, but she didn’t feel sorry for Jack; the only person she felt for was Laura. Yes, it was her own fault, but that didn’t mean Kate wouldn’t take her pain if she could.
“All she wanted was for someone to love her. I feel like I failed her.”
“Don’t be too tough on yourself.”
“It’s hard not to be.”
“Are you telling Richard?” David asked.
“Tomorrow. He’ll have company in the afternoon. So I’ll go in the morning.”
“Not going to make a scene?”
“It’s tempting, but no. I just want him to know what happened.”
David watched Laura plow through the different pieces of music, and Kate could see the awe on his face. He understood Laura and her passion—he was that way when he played hockey, Kate was that way when she skated and when she wrote. Something came from the inside out.
“Does she even know we’re here?”
“Probably not.”
*
Laura was starving. She made her way through the dark house at four o’clock in the morning for something to quiet her hunger.
She’d peeked into her mother’s room before going downstairs. David was there with her. The two of them were nestled together like they’d been with each other for years. David’s shoes were at the end of the bed, his watch on the armoire. She’d noticed earlier in the week that some of his clothes were in Mom’s closet. It should have been weird, but it wasn’t. They were happy together, and for Laura that was the important thing.
She flipped the switch and flooded the big kitchen with light. There had to be something in the house to eat.
The oversized fridge had tons of leftovers from the many family dinners they’d had over the week. There was cake, cheese, all stuff that would make her cough. Examining the many Tupperware containers, she found the last pieces of Aunt Trish’s Southern fried chicken. Awesome.
She kicked the door shut with her foot, turned around, and faced the hard wall of Jack’s chest. Shit. No longer wearing the black shirt he wore to go out earlier, he was in a plain white t-shirt and his dress pants. He stared down at her, his eyes still groggy from sleep and, she guessed, too much alcohol. The big question, why he was still here? There had to be a reason, also probably related to alcohol, and she’d get to it, but right now Laura was too busy inhaling what remained of his Armani cologne. He looked in the container and took a sniff.
“That looks good.”
And then he took the chicken. Her chicken. Not cool. But not having the energy to fight him, she caved. “I’ll get plates.” Laura fished two plates out of the cupboard and brought them to the island. “What are you doing here?”
“I guess I passed out when I finished the scotch.” He was picking little pieces off a nice big drumstick and Laura slapped his hand.
“That’s my piece. Stop that.”
“Fine.” He pulled his hand back and the corner of his mouth tilted up. “What are you doing up?”
“I was hungry and I couldn’t sleep.”
“I hear ya.” He stared at the chicken on his plate and then looked at her.
Laura was drawn to his eyes. As soon as she looked at him, really settled into the deep blue, she saw all the sadness she was feeling reflected right back. But it was when he reached out and touched her face; it was the gentle stroke of his fingers on her cheek that triggered Laura’s meltdown. Leaving him where he sat, she went to the sink and leaned in.
Her hand came to her mouth as she tried to stifle the sob breaking from her chest. She was barely holding it together when Jack’s hands dropped onto her shoulders and turned her around.
He pulled her to him and closed his arms around her, pressing her head into his broad chest. His hands ran through her hair, and his lips touched the top of her head. Laura reached around him and held tight. Her tears didn’t come in great waves like she expected, but softly, sadly.
“This is killing me,” he said. “But you know we can’t, it doesn’t matter what I feel for you. We can’t.”
“I know.” And she did. It would be all wrong, for both of them. She was too young to be part of his life and he was too old to be part of hers. The number of years weren’t the issue; it was the timing. Laura swallowed hard, trying to choke down the sobs, but finally failing miserably. “It hurts so much.”
“I know. God, do I know.” He tried to soothe her, holding her tight.
Laura thought about how this would be the last time he’d hold her like this, the last time she’d feel his arms around her. He pulled back a little and his hand came to her chin, urging her to look at him.
Seeing his face, she could tell he was hurting too. He was as sad and miserable as she was. Laura didn’t know which was worse, the pain she felt, or knowing how he felt.
“I love you, Jack, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying. For everything.”
“Please don’t be sorry you love me, because I’m not sorry I love you. I just wish it could be different.”
Her heart felt like it would explode from her chest. There was so much she felt, so much she wanted to say. Then Laura surprised herself and did something she wouldn’t have expected she could have done even an hour ago: she kissed him. It was a kiss goodbye, a kiss to tell him what she felt, and Jack responded, pulling her close. His mouth consumed hers; it was as if he was trying to take as much of her as possible before saying goodbye.
Finally, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and dragging in a deep breath as he did. “I’ll miss you,” he whispered.
Someday the timing would be right. Laura knew it wouldn’t be any time soon, but someday.
Chapter 27
‡
Marie brought crudités to the table in the dining room and examined the feast they’d prepared for their New Year’s Day guests. She loved to entertain, especially when it made Richard happy. He was arranging the wine cabinet and fussing over small details to make everything perfect. Marie couldn’t wait to marry him. She wanted to be his wife and the mother of his child. Things had been rough for the past two weeks, and they’d decided to take a two-month break from trying to conceive. They needed to re-center themselves, refocus on their own relationship after all that trouble with Kate.
As she thought about children, her mind drifted to Laura. It was almost noon and she still wasn’t home. Marie tried to call, but her cell phone was off. Jack must have shown her a wonderful time; so wonderful that Laura didn’t want to leave him.
Just seconds after she reentered the kitchen, Richard followed and kissed her cheek. “Everything looks brilliant. Thank you. Hopefully this will smooth the way for that professorship.”
“You’re welcome. It will be everything you deserve, I’m sure.”
He nodded. “Have you heard from Laura?”
“No, I’m sure she’s sleeping in.”
“I’m getting worried.”
“Richard, she’ll be fine. Don’t be so overprotective.”
“I’m not overprotective. I’m her father, let’s not forget that. I’m allowed to be worried.”
“She’s a young woman. You have to let her grow up.”
“She’s only seventeen.”
Just then they both heard the backdoor open and Laura stepped through. Marie smiled. She looked wonderful. Tired, but Laura was fresh with new love and knowledge.