Linda Warren - Emily's Daughter

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter responded, then took their menus and walked away.

Jackson stared at her. “You eat healthy, don’t you?”

She folded her hands in her lap. “I try.”

He leaned back in his chair. “A doctor, Emily. You made that dream come true. I bet your parents are proud.”

She took a sip of wine. “Yes, my mother loves telling people about her daughter, the doctor.”

“Having met your mother, I can imagine that.”

She tilted the glass to her lips once again. She’d talked endlessly about her mother to Jackson. She’d confided her innermost secrets, her struggle with her mother’s pregnancy, her strict morals and unreasonable discipline. Jackson knew all about her problems with Rose, but he didn’t know the worst part.

“Evidently you didn’t go into your father’s hardware business,” she said, deftly changing the subject.

“No,” he murmured, “I didn’t. That’s what I—”

Before he could tell her anything, their salads arrived and conversation was interrupted.

Sprinkling vinaigrette over hers, Emily asked, “Do you come to Houston often?”

“Maybe once a month. We have a lot of customers here. Our new program cuts down on work, and on the expenditure of time and money. It’s been very successful and it keeps me traveling.”

“Everyone at the office is raving about the program you installed for us.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You haven’t tried it?”

She glanced up. “No, but I will. I just hate taking time away from my patients to learn technical things.”

He leaned toward her, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It’ll make your life so much easier. Simply by hitting a key, you can pull up a patient’s history, his drug chart, his last visit, your recommendations and diagnoses. Then you speak into a headphone to update any chart. The computer will recognize your voice. This will save tremendously on paperwork. The hardest part is getting all the information into the computer and keeping it current, but I’m sure you have people to do that.”

She was mesmerized by the glow in his eyes, which clearly revealed how much he loved his work.

The waiter removed their salads and their food was brought out.

They ate in silence for a while, then Jackson asked, “How’s your chicken?”

“Fine,” she replied, swallowing a bite. The food was delicious and she was hungry. Having skipped lunch, she was very conscious of that.

“Next time you should try the linguine. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten,” he said.

Next time. There would be no next time. At least not with Jackson.

He asked if she wanted dessert and she refused, but asked for another glass of wine. She felt she needed it.

Jackson twisted his wineglass, watching her, and his thoughts drifted. He was seeing Emily on the beach with nothing but the moonlight on her soft, smooth skin. So many things about her surfaced—things he’d thought he’d forgotten. Her uninhibited smile, her sharp intelligence and the incredible beauty she was so unaware of.

His gaze heated her senses and she rushed into speech. “You were going to tell me why you didn’t come back.”

Engrossed in his memories, he was startled for a second. He took a deep breath and tried to find the words. “When I left Rockport that winter, I was unsure about my life,” he began slowly. “My parents were pressuring me to come into the hardware business, while I wanted to go out on my own and start a computer company. I had a friend who was interested in the same thing.”

“You told me that years ago,” she reminded him.

His eyes caught hers. “Yes, I told you a lot of things about myself.”

She looked away and carefully placed her napkin on the table. “We both did that.”

“Two kids eager to become adults,” he sighed.

“You were an adult,” she said. “I was the kid.”

“I guess you were,” he admitted, feeling guilty because he’d taken advantage of her young spirit. “But you were so delightful, so—”

She cut in. “Why didn’t you go into your father’s hardware business?”

He studied her for a moment, then answered, “The decision was made for me.”

Her eyes didn’t waver. “By whom?”

“My parents.”

She lifted a dark eyebrow.

This was the hard part. “My father took me on that fishing trip as a way to prepare me for what was to come,” he said. “The day after we got back to Dallas, my parents said they wanted to talk to me. I assumed it was about the business, but…” He stopped and swallowed before continuing, “My mother told me she was dying of pancreatic cancer. My father was supposed to tell me on the trip, but he couldn’t. They gave her three months to live. I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned—in shock. My mom was always so active, so full of energy. It wasn’t fair, and I hit back at everything and everyone in sight. But not at her. I didn’t want her to see my pain. I intended to be there for her. She was very brave right up until the end. She died January 30.”

“I’m so sorry,” she immediately offered, feeling the pain that was obviously still with him. Then something clicked in her mind. January 30? That was the day she’d found out she was pregnant. She remembered it vividly. She’d borrowed her mother’s car and driven into Corpus Christi to buy a pregnancy test. She went to Corpus Christi because she didn’t want anyone she knew to see her buying such a personal item. It would’ve been all over Rockport in minutes. She hurried home to take the test. Even though she’d suspected what the result would be, she was in shock. At the same time, Jackson was dealing with another kind of trauma.

“After that, I was restless. I couldn’t concentrate on anything,” Jackson was saying. “My aunt was spending a lot of time with my father, and I told him I had to go. There were too many reminders in the house, at the store. He said he understood, and I hit the road trying to outrun the pain.”

That was why he wasn’t at the hardware store when she’d called. He was trying to deal with his mother’s death. It wasn’t what she’d believed at all.

Why didn’t you come to Rockport?

As if reading her mind, he went on. “I thought about coming to Rockport, but I knew your mother would eat me alive. She didn’t like me much.” He paused for a second. “That wasn’t the real reason, though. I was a mess. All I could think about was my life, my grief, and I couldn’t drag you down with me. You were young, finishing high school, getting ready for college. You didn’t need an albatross around your neck.”

Oh, God, if he only knew.

“I traveled around for a while, then headed to San Antonio to see my friend.” His words froze her thoughts.

Had he been in San Antonio when their daughter was born? Had he been there when she’d given their daughter away?

She licked dry lips. “When did you go to San Antonio?” she asked in a tight voice.

He frowned. “I went that spring and I stayed for about a year and a half and— Emily, are you all right? You look pale.”

“I…ah…” She couldn’t answer as she tried to grapple with this twist of fate. He’d been there when their daughter was born. So close, yet so out of reach. “It’s just hot in here,” she lied. It was the only excuse she could invent for her strange behavior.

“Would you like some water?”

“Please.”

He called the waiter and a glass of ice water was placed in front of her. She held it with both hands, letting the coolness soothe her shaky nerves.

“Better?” he asked as she took several swallows.

“Yes, thanks,” she said. “You were saying?”

“Oh.” He tried to remember what he was talking about. “My friend, Clay, and I started the computer company in San Antonio. It was slow that first year, then it took off like a rocket. Later, we moved the business to Dallas and it’s still doing very well, although Clay’s not with me anymore. He fell in love with a school teacher from Alaska, sold his share to his brother and moved up there.”