Southern comfort, p.25
Southern Comfort, page 25
“I think it was,” Nick agreed.
“When did it fall apart?”
“When you were about two, almost three,” Kay recalled. “Brad was spending a lot of time at the restaurant. It was successful, but a lot of work and long hours. Julia wasn’t being asked to sing as often because she was being a mother to you.”
“But we knew she was restless,” Nick added. “She was anxious to get back to performing. Finally she got a month-long engagement at a club in midtown Manhattan. She opened for another group but quickly became popular. That’s when we began baby-sitting you on a regular basis. You stayed with your grandmother and me on the weekends, and went back home on Sunday afternoon.
“Then Julia got a really big break. She was asked to be in the Broadway production of Timbuktu. She was part of the cast for almost the entire run. That led to another play, and an invitation to Paris. That’s when things began to change.”
“Brad wanted her to cut back a little,” Kay said. “He wanted her home more, and he felt she was away from you too often. But he didn’t insist. He left the choice up to her, hoping that her family would be more important.”
“But he probably knew he couldn’t force her to give up her dream,” Lucas guessed.
“Exactly,” Nick nodded.
“So your grandfather and I made her an offer. We said we’d bring you to live with us temporarily. At least she and Brad knew you were in a safe place and would be taken care of,” Kay said.
“Okay. That sounds like a good compromise,” Lucas began. “So what happened?”
Kay sighed, shaking her head. “We meant well, but everything got out of hand. When Julia accepted the invitation to perform with a troupe in Paris, she was away almost a year. She’d come back to the States whenever she could, but it was expensive, and she was afraid she’d be cut from the show.”
“And what was I doing all this time? What about Dad?”
“Well, your father wasn’t very happy about it, but he was glad that Julia was getting some attention and the chance to fulfill her dream. He figured that after a year or so they could work out a better arrangement. She’d find something in New York again, and you would come back home.”
“What began to happen was, whenever you visited when she was back, you wanted to come back to us. By the time Julia was prepared to return to the States, you didn’t want to go with her,” Nick told him.
Lucas’ gaze went back and forth between them. Kay was holding tightly to her control, tears threatening to fall again at any minute.
“Why?”
“She was away so often, Lucas, that after a while you lost the connection. You were almost six. You didn’t remember who she was,” Kay said sorrowfully.
“Kids get separated from their parents all the time. They get back together and start over again,” Lucas said.
“Julia decided to keep working. I think she thought there would be time to make it up to you, to become part of your life again.”
“What about her and my father?”
“Brad finally asked for a divorce,” Kay told him. “He didn’t want to continue to live the way they had—apart. He wanted a wife and family, and Julia wasn’t ready to give up her fledgling career to do that. There was no animosity. They just let one another go.”
“And me?”
“You stayed with us. After a while, there didn’t seem to be any question about you returning to Julia. Brad was here and involved in your life. To a great extent, your mother wasn’t.”
Lucas rested his elbows on the table. Clasping his hands together, he rested his chin against them trying to absorb and process the details of his family history. It wasn’t at all what he’d expected. But the revelations didn’t make him feel any better. He was still restless with a sense that something was missing.
“Did I ever express the desire to return to my mother?”
Kay shook her head. “You never asked about her. I assumed you eventually forgot all about Julia. Now that I think about it, maybe you just didn’t know what to ask.”
“Make no mistake about it, Julia would try to regain custody of you now and then, Lucas. But she was caught between wanting to take you and make a home for you, and trying to keep her career alive. It was her decision, but we knew it was hard for her,” Nick said.
“Well, it was not completely her decision,” Kay murmured. “At one point I told her she’d have to stop getting in touch. I told her it was only making you unhappy.”
“You forced her even more to make a decision against taking responsibility for me?” Lucas asked for clarification.
“You were happy with us,” Kay defended. “You never asked about her, never indicated you wanted to see her or go to her.”
“She agreed?” Lucas asked.
His grandfather nodded. “Yes, she agreed. She felt that that was probably best for everyone, especially you. She could see you were doing well living with us. Your life was stable, you had friends, you were doing well in school—”
“And I never asked about her,” Lucas finished. “But then she wrote those letters and sent the photographs.”
“We knew she wanted to make sure you didn’t forget who she was. But your grandmother saw no point in that. She kept the letters and photographs from you.”
“Why didn’t you just throw them out? If I’d never known about them, I could have just written Julia off.”
“I don’t know, but when she died, I didn’t want her going to her grave with you believing she didn’t care,” Kay said, quietly crying once more. “I didn’t want that on my conscience for the rest of my life. You needed to know because…because I needed you to forgive me for what I did.”
Lucas finally got out of his chair and reached for his grandmother. He knelt next to her chair and pulled her into his arms. She held on to him with a stranglehold filled with her love for him. He comforted her as best he could, feeling drained and sad, with forgiveness.
Lucas entered the house, which was quiet and still. He’d held out hope that Rachel might be inside waiting, even though there was no car parked in the driveway and little evidence that she was around. The outdoor lights were on, as well as ones in the kitchen and living room. But those were set on timers so the house didn’t appear deserted.
He was disappointed. He went upstairs to check things out. He found all the rooms neat and empty. He found no notes, phone messages, or clues. He was disappointed a second time. Frustrated, Lucas wondered if he’d perhaps misunderstood Ross Givens when he’d not-so-casually mentioned that Rachel was coming down to the house. He should have asked more questions. He’d acted impulsively, overanxious to make amends.
He brought his things into the house and took them up to his room. As was his habit, he walked to the end of the hall and switched on the light in what had been Rachel’s room. All her things were back in place. That had to mean that she intended to return at some point. The question was, when?
Lucas slowly returned to the first floor, not sure what he was going to do with himself for the rest of the night. He went to see what was in the kitchen to eat. He was surprised to find fresh food in the refrigerator. There was even ice cream in the freezer. He returned to the living room to turn on the CD player. He spotted the white envelope on the coffee table and snatched it up. It had his name on the outside. When he opened it, there was yet another envelope inside. Attached to the envelope was a note. Recognizing Rachel’s handwriting, he read it, expecting the worst.
“Lucas, this is for you from Julia. I found it in the box she left me, asking that I make sure you get it. So here it is. I haven’t read it, but I hope you will. This could be her last letter to you. I hope you find what you are looking for. If you do, you’ll know where to find me.”
Lucas had to read the note twice and he still wasn’t sure he understood Rachel’s cryptic message. The most important thing, in any case was that she had been there, she was waiting, and she was offering him a last chance.
Fourteen
MY DEAREST SON:
I have always longed to call you that in person. I have lived for many years hoping for the chance, but it’s too late. I am out of time. Where do I begin to set straight a lifetime of mistakes and wishing for a second chance? I will start by simply saying I’m sorry. It is not adequate, not repentant enough, but I’ve said it a thousand times every day since we’ve been apart. I’m sorry I have shared so little of my life with you. I’m sorry that I didn’t perform as a mother, think as a mother, or make decisions with your best interests instead of my own, like a mother. I am selfish and a coward. I’d rather have you remember me, if you do at all, the way I was when I was whole. Photographs are all I have to give you since you were denied the real thing. I have sent you hundreds to choose from. Have you seen them all?
Lucas, you were a beautiful baby when I was still your mother. We were still a family, and I had not bartered away your life. I did not mean it to be forever. I only wanted time to follow a dream which, as it turns out, burned short and glorious, leaving me with only a few memories. I gave up so much for so little. I failed. You had a family anyway who, with the best of intentions, raised you with the love they did not believe I could ever provide. Your grandparents are wonderful people. I believe with all my heart that they always thought of you first ahead of all else, including me or your father. You were lucky to have them.
Life is a tricky parlor game, and filled with terrible rules and choices. The ones I made turned out to be permanent, but I did not act alone. I did not give you away, Lucas. I loaned you. I was willing to share you. I wanted you to have as much love as people were willing to give. I did not mean for it to exclude my own. The rules of the game were switched when my back was turned. Now that you are grown, you will probably already have learned how this can be. Things are not always fair. People make up their own rules as they go along. The strongest survive. The weak live to regret, over and over. Please forgive me.
This is the last letter I will write to you. I can’t remember what I’ve already told you in all the letters I’ve sent over the years. What is still left to be said? Have I told you that I love you? Do you know that you’re the greatest achievement of my life? Will you believe me? I want a second chance. I want your forgiveness more than anything, even though I have not earned it. My heart has already been broken. Please forgive me.
Dearest, dearest, I have lived ashamed for so long for my part in denying you, but I will leave soon so very proud of you and the wonderful man you’ve grown into. Nick and Kay and your father are responsible for that. I can make no claim. You have grown to be the kind of person I would want you to be had I been there to guide you. I do take credit for that. You are my son, after all. You will always be my son. Even after I am gone I will not be dismissed from your life. Please remember me. Find a way not to forget me.
I must tell you about Rachel. I call her Honey Child, in the same way I call you My Dearest, son. Rachel saved my life, although she has no awareness of that. She was sent for me to meet one summer, and from Rachel I was able to learn how to be kind and loving and patient; how to laugh and how to get going every day. I borrowed Rachel from her family every summer she came to Highland Beach. In another moment of weakness and with another selfish choice, she too was taken away from me. I only have one more chance to make amends.
If my will has been executed as I instructed, you have both come together at the house in Highland Beach. If you are the people I know you both to be, you will each find what you are looking for and meant to have in each other. I have only provided the setting. The rest is up to you, Lucas, and up to Rachel. With almost my last breath I believe this is as it should be. I have taken a lot from both of you. Now, I can give it all back.
I cannot take the chance that you may never see this letter, so I am leaving it for Rachel to find. I know that she will make sure you get it. I pray that you will read it. I pray for you to forgive me. I hope you will do both. It has always been up to you.
With all my heart always,
Your mother, Julia
Fifteen
“WHY RACHEL, THESE ARE beautiful. Did you really make them yourself?”
“Yes, I did. My next plan is to see if it’ll be profitable for me to have my own store.”
“My goodness,” Harrietta gushed, adjusting her glasses and bending over the tray of samples that Rachel had placed on her lap. “You’re a real CEO. I’m so impressed. Are you sure I can have these?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’m going to wear them to church on Sunday. I know Flo is going to ask me where I got them from. I don’t know if I want to tell her. That woman always has to make sure she has the same things I have. And she’s such a gossip.”
“Maybe she admires that you have such good taste, Harrietta.”
“You know, you’re absolutely right. That’s probably exactly what it is.”
The doorbell rang loudly, the sound adjusted for Harrietta’s poor hearing. Startled, Rachel dropped the earrings she was about to place into Harrietta’s hand.
“Was that the door?” Harrietta asked, glancing up.
“Would you like me to answer?” Rachel offered.
“No, let my grandson get it.”
Rachel remained seated and tried to compose herself into a study of calm and nonchalance. She had already rearranged the tray of jewelry twice after having removed several pieces. She began needlessly shifting them around again. Her fingers seemed clumsy and uncoordinated. She heard a familiar male voice, and nearly upset the entire tray.
“Let me move this to the table,” Rachel said. She lifted the black felt-lined flat and got up.
“Nana, there’s someone here to see you,” the grandson announced. “Lucas Scott.” He gestured for Lucas to enter the parlor, and disappeared.
“Mrs. Cousins, I’m sorry to bother you this late.”
Harrietta tittered when Lucas bent down to take her hand and give it a warm squeeze. “It’s so nice to see you, Lucas. Sit down, please. When did you arrive?”
As yet unnoticed, Rachel watched as Lucas did as he was told, but saw he sat forward on the edge of his chair, as if he didn’t intend to stay long. She studied him for any giveaway signs as to what he might be thinking. She couldn’t tell anything by either his voice or expression. Was it possible he hadn’t noticed her yet? Was it a deliberate oversight? Was he trying to torture her?
“Not too long ago. It was a last-minute decision to drive down.”
“You know I’m always glad to see you. I was just asking Rachel about you earlier. She said you had to return to DC to take care of some kind of business deal. If I’d known you were coming, you could have joined us for dinner.”
Finally, Lucas looked at Rachel, which promptly caused a spasm in her stomach.
“Hello, Lucas. Welcome back.”
“Rachel.”
“Will you be staying long?”
“It depends,” he said smoothly.
Rachel met his gaze head-on, trying not to give any indication that she was nervous, trying not to tip her hand and let him see what she was really thinking.
She said nothing, as well. The fact that he had shown up was not proof positive that he was going to follow the script to its logical end. Lucas pointed to her display box.
“Miss Harrietta, is Rachel hustling you with her wares?”
Harrietta got a huge laugh out of that, but Rachel suspected it had more to do with the fact that Lucas was being attentive and charming by teasing her. Rachel had to give him points for that. There had never been any question that he was capable of seduction, regardless of age, race, or country of origin.
“No, not at all. Rachel offered to show me her things after I mentioned seeing this article in one of my granddaughter’s magazines. Why, our Rachel is almost famous. Did you know that?”
Lucas slowly turned his attention again to her, and Rachel mustered enough poise to smile serenely. “I know that and much more,” he murmured.
Rachel inclined her head. “Thank you. I hope it’s all complimentary.”
“It is,” Lucas said.
He said the words with such intensity that it finally dawned on Rachel that he was waiting for her. “You know, it’s probably close to your bedtime, Harrietta. I think I’m going to say goodnight and head back to the house,” Rachel said, standing and assembling her sample case, reattaching the removable lid and closing it.
“Lucas arrived just in time to escort you back,” Harrietta said.
“Yes, he did.”
Without asking, Lucas stood again and took the case from her hands. Then he spoke directly to Harrietta. “Miss Harrietta, would you do me the honor of being my guest at dinner some evening? Perhaps after Labor Day, when the vacation crowd has thinned out from Annapolis.”
Harrietta made her habitual O and then melted right before Rachel’s eyes at the invitation. “Young man, are you asking me on a date?”
Lucas, surprised by the retort, burst out laughing. Rachel, hearing the rich deep sound that again evoked his mother’s laugh, began to relax.
“Yes, I am. But I have to warn you I have an ulterior motive. I wonder if you would be willing to talk to me about my mother.”
“Yes, I understand, I understand,” Harrietta nodded sagely. “Are you planning on being around a few days?”
Rachel merely raised her eyebrows when he looked at her.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why don’t you come over in the morning? You and I can get started. Now I have a stipulation of my own. When we go to dinner, I’d like Rachel to join us.”
Rachel hid a smile at the adroit manipulation. She had to remember to throw in a necklace and a box of candy for Harrietta.
“Fine with me. I may be tied up in the morning. Could I stop over around noon?” Lucas asked.
“One-thirty, after my nap. I don’t want to fall asleep during our conversation.”
Saying goodnight seemed to take forever, at least as far as Rachel was concerned But Lucas was nothing if not patient and accommodating with Harrietta, and Rachel gladly waited until all the pleasantries and departing rituals were done. Harrietta herself walked them to her door, peering out as they stepped out into the night.
