Laura nodded and moved a little closer to her niece. She sensed that Julie might not hold together very much longer.
“How was Meg when you broke up?”
An honest question. It deserved an honest answer. “We were very worried about that. We’d been separated for almost a year when we made the decision, and we told her together.” She hesitated. “She didn’t like it, Julie, no kid does. But our situation wasn’t the same – we were very much parents together, and we let her know that wasn’t going to change. She and I moved to London a couple of months before, and she and her father talked every day. He came over twice to see us. If he had lived, we would have spent holidays with him. It was a very different situation.”
Julie said, and Laura was surprised at the hostility she let show in her voice, “Well, my mother and father certainly aren’t parents together, that’s for sure.”
She wondered if she should let Richard know that, despite appearances, Julie was definitely not taking this well. The chickens were coming home to roost – the crime of Julie’s parentage, his infidelity with Francie, the bitterness of those unfiled pleadings. Julie’s absent relationship with Diana. Despite his efforts, damage ran deep here.
But she was still on the outskirts of his life, and Julie was at the core. Just a week before, he had still been warning her away from this part of his life; she didn’t think he would take kindly to any interference in his relationship with his daughter, even now.
Still – she remembered the grief counseling that had done so much good for Meg the previous fall. Maybe she could suggest to Richard that he get counseling for his daughter, just as a precaution.
Julie said, “Are you my dad’s new girlfriend?”
Her mind froze. “What?”
Julie looked scared at her own temerity. “I – Dad has a new girlfriend. I wondered if it was you.”
Oh, dear God. Here was disaster beyond reckoning. She had to think fast. “How do you know he’s got a new girlfriend? I hadn’t heard he was seeing anyone.”
Julie wasn’t old enough yet to see the deflection. “Well, he went off for the weekend with her, and he’s come home a couple of nights real late, you know? And it was weird last weekend. He came home real late on Friday, then he left again and he stayed away all night, and then he came home real early to get some stuff, and then he left again. So I figured she must live around here, and I wondered if maybe it was you.”
Richard really needed to know that his baby girl wasn’t a baby anymore; she was an astute observer more than capable of putting two and two together. And she herself shouldn’t have forgotten; she should have remembered Julie’s detective work in tracking Cam down last summer. She made her voice sound puzzled. “Why on earth would you think it was me?”
As if the idea was so fantastic as to be absurd. She’d deal with being a hypocrite later on.
“Because—” Julie stopped, and Laura saw clearly as the girl reshuffled something in her mind. “I just wondered.”
She hadn’t yet noticed that Laura hadn’t flatly denied it. Lucy would have been all over the evasions.
Laura made herself turn back to the pastry and start working, casual, unaffected, not at all someone with a pounding heart. “Julie, you should ask your father. He’s the best person to tell you about his private life.”
“Oh.” Julie went over to the oven and checked the cookies. “He’d never tell me that stuff. I mean, he’s had girlfriends. Not a lot, I don’t think, I don’t want you to think my dad is a – a—”
“A rake?” Three in ten years? Six in his entire life? I don’t think so.
Her niece looked blank. “What’s that?”
“Someone who chases women a lot.”
Julie looked relieved. “Yes, that. I know he dated someone who worked at my school when I was in third grade. Lucy saw them together once. Then this girl named Jennifer used to call all the time, but I guess he wasn’t in love with her, they broke up a long time ago. Do you think he’s in love with this one?”
Laura said firmly, “I don’t have the faintest idea.”
Unfortunately, I have it on good authority that he isn’t.
“But doesn’t it sound like they’re having sex?”
Lovely, glorious sex…. “Julie, you need to ask your father this stuff. The rest of us aren’t in a position to know.”
It would serve Richard right if his daughter did ask. They’d have to scrape him off the floor.
Julie helped herself to a spoonful of cookie dough. Laura started to warn her about salmonella poisoning and stopped cold. She could see Julie trying to frame another question.
“Do you think he’s going to get married again?”
Oh, she’d like that answered too. She stopped herself, appalled. He had warned her not to consider the future until he was free of Diana, and she was practically ready to start addressing invitations. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said anything to me.”
And he wouldn’t. Richard had drawn his line in the sand. Having failed so spectacularly in the past, he intended to do everything right in the future, and that included settling the past before looking ahead. He wouldn’t allow himself to know how much he needed her, that in her he had found his last best hope. He needed her, he needed a woman with the heart of a warrior, who would cherish him, challenge him, fight for him. He needed never to doubt that he was the father of his wife’s children. But Richard would not allow himself to consider that yet.
“Check the oven again. The cookies should be done by now. You don’t want them to burn.”
Julie obediently retrieved the cookies. They were just turning golden brown on top; they would continue to bake a few seconds longer on the cookie sheet. Laura laid out a sheet of aluminum foil as a cooling rack and handed Julie a spatula for removing the cookies from the sheet. Julie carefully lifted each cookie, another of Peggy’s students doing her proud.
“I don’t want a stepmother.”
Laura spooned ice water into the food processor and hit the button to blend it into the pastry. Here was the heart of Julie’s message. I don’t care what you and my father do. Don’t trespass on my territory. “That’s natural. You and your dad have a routine. You don’t want it disturbed.”
“Yes, but—” Julie looked at her seriously, so she had a split second warning before her niece’s next words. “It might not be so bad if he married you.”
The hand holding the spoon faltered. Ice water splayed all over the counter.
Laura couldn’t help herself; she was shaking. She stared at her niece, and this time, she read no agenda in Julie’s eyes, no hidden probing. Not Lucy, provoking a protest to lay bare her deepest feelings, but instead Richard Ashmore’s daughter, saying plainly that her aunt would be a suitable stepmother.
This didn’t make sense. If Julie didn’t want a stepmother, why was she the exception?
She took a deep breath. “Julie, I don’t know where you get this idea that your father and I—” Maybe she was getting it from the brief interaction she’d seen last week. Maybe Julie had understood more than they had realized. She turned the offensive on her niece. “Why are you saying this?”
Julie looked shaken too, but she was an Ashmore – no, she was an Abbott, and Dominic’s daughters, like Dominic himself, could carry through with a performance even in front of a hostile or unwelcoming audience. “I know you like him, and – I think he likes you too. I remember how he looked when we saw you in London. That’s the first time – well, I realized he might be able to be in love with you someday. And – you’re not married anymore, and he’s not going to be, so—”
She had to be the adult here, no matter how stunned she felt. “Julie, it takes a great deal more to make a relationship than a man and a woman being single at the same time. Your father has a very rich and settled life, and I have my life too.” Right, she didn’t even have a settled home. She belonged nowhere. “Look, your dad and I were very good friends when we were growing up. I had a crush on him, I’m
sure you’ve heard all about that, but that was a long time ago. We’re different people now. I’m not the same girl who used to follow him around.”
“But you could be,” said Julie eagerly. “I could help you. If you want, I can tell you all sorts of things. I know all the things he likes. I know his favorite meals and his favorite books and TV shows and movies – I even know how he votes, and you could tell him you agree with him, and—”
Oh, dear heavens.
“—And church is real important to him. You could come with us, I’m sure he’d like that, you could even convert.”
That did it. Time to put the brakes on Daddy’s little girl.
“That’s enough.” Laura put her hand up decisively. “Quiet.”
Julie stopped.
“Listen, I know your intentions are good, but I don’t want to hear any more of this.” She fixed her niece with a stern look. “Your father’s private life is just that, Julie, it is private. It is quite improper to speculate on what he feels or what he is planning to do. Frankly, it is none of your business, and,” unfortunately, “it is none of mine either.”
She let the full force of Cat Courtney’s authority fall on the girl and watched her retreat.
“As for making myself over to suit him – I hope you don’t think that’s an acceptable thing for a woman to do.” But of course Julie thought that. She’d spent her lifetime making herself into the perfect daughter, the perfect niece. “A woman who pretends to be someone she isn’t – who pretends to like what a man likes just to get his attention – is setting herself up for failure. What if she succeeds and he falls for her? He’s not falling for her at all. He’s falling for some phantom that doesn’t even exist.”
“But,” Julie swallowed hard, “maybe she can learn to be what he likes.”
“And maybe,” Laura returned, “he can learn to be what she likes.”
Julie’s eyes flashed at her, shocked.
“That’s right. Why should any woman convert for a man? Why shouldn’t he convert? Why should she change her vote just because he doesn’t agree with her?” Cam had said ruefully that it was little use voting, since she canceled out every vote he cast. “Why should she watch war movies just because he likes them? Why should she eat Chinese food every blasted weekend just because he doesn’t like Tex-Mex? Being two peas in a pod doesn’t make for a good relationship. A man and a woman who are too much alike won’t challenge each other. They won’t help each other grow into better people.”
Her niece opened her mouth and then closed it again.
“And I’ll tell you, Julie, if you think a girl should pretend to like everything a boy does just to get his attention, you’re wrong. She needs to be her own person.” She stopped. “In fact, if she doesn’t, it can be catastrophic. Want an example?”
Julie didn’t know what to do. Laura felt herself back in control of this situation. But, oh, she was definitely going to have a chat with Julie’s father about his perfect daughter.
“Have you ever wondered why your mother went to UVA?”
Julie said, startled, “No. I just thought she wanted to go.”
“Does that make sense? My father wanted her to study voice, and she wanted to study piano. UVA has a music department, but it’s not known as a music school, is it?”
Julie shook her head.
“She went to UVA because your dad went there. He wanted to be an architect, and UVA has a School of Architecture. But Diana was a musician. She should have gone to Juilliard, where, I can tell you, my father wanted her to go. He was furious when she chose UVA. And you know what? For once, Daddy was right. Going to UVA was a disaster for Di. If she and your father had gone to different colleges, they probably wouldn’t have gotten married until they were out of school. But she tried to fit into his world, and it didn’t work because she wasn’t true to herself.”
“Wow.” Julie looked at her with respect. “I never thought of that.”
“Okay.” Laura went to the freezer for more ice cubes. She needed to re-ice the water for the pastry. “Now we’ll get to the flip side. What’s the absolute best marriage you ever saw?”
“That’s easy,” Julie said instantly. “Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Right.” She dropped some ice cubes into the water. “And were they that much alike?”
Julie thought for a moment. “No. They went to different churches. And Grandma liked to garden, and Grandpa liked to fly. And they were – well, Grandma was so lively and fun, and Grandpa was so quiet and serious all the time.” She raised her head and looked at Laura. “But they were great together.”
“They sure were.” She tried the ice water again. This time, it worked.
Julie leaned her elbows on the island, and she still wasn’t reclaiming her hidden agenda. Laura relaxed. This side of Julie she might like, this genuine, confiding girl with her keen insight. Too bad the girl played so many games that she had no sense of her real self; underneath might lie a really great human being. “But they weren’t that different, were they? They liked their life together.”
“Sure. They weren’t complete opposites.” Laura threw in the food coloring and hit the button on the food processor again. Terry insisted on a red pastry for the tart. “They had the same values, and even their religions weren’t that different. They wanted the same kind of life. It wouldn’t have worked, for example, if Peggy had wanted to live in the big city. Philip liked living in the country. He was born to Ashmore Park and he saw it as a sacred trust – same as your dad.” She remembered a snippet of Diana’s conversation at Dominic’s house. “That was part of the problem with your parents. Your dad’s roots are here in Virginia. I’m pretty sure that’s not how your mother wants to live her life.”
Julie picked up a cookie and munched it. “Do you think she wanted to be like your father?”
“Probably.” She started to lay out the crust in the glass pie dish. “Musicians live a vagabond life. It’s just part of the package.”
“But you do it.”
“On tour, I do,” Laura acknowledged. “But it’s not that glamorous, Julie. I don’t really like touring that much – this fall will be my third tour in six years, and if it’s my last for a long time, that’s okay with me. I don’t like waking up in a new city every other day, and really, you can get tired of hotel rooms. It’s hard to keep crossing time zones. My body never gets used to it.” She used her thumbs to flute the pastry edges. “And, for a woman, when you have a child – I don’t like to be away from Meg. I try to stay in constant touch with her. We email and talk on the phone, and she faxes me her homework, but it’s not the same. Do you know what I liked most about the play I did in London?”
Julie said, “Sleeping in the same place every night?”
Heavens, her niece was sharp. Ashmore or not, she had a first-class mind. “You bet. It’s the closest to a real job I’ve ever had as Cat Courtney. I had a routine, I went to the same place every day, I saw the same people. I lived in my own home with Meg. Having a routine helped a lot.”
“But my mother wouldn’t like that.”
“No. Diana,” she saw the truth of her words even as she said them, “is a restless spirit. I’m not.”
Julie nodded, and for a few minutes, while Laura slid the pastry into the oven to bake, they said nothing. Maybe Julie was thinking things through; maybe she was seeing her parents in a whole new light. Maybe she was realizing, as she viewed the end of her parents’ marriage, that in many ways it had been doomed from the start.
And maybe, just maybe, she was realizing that she didn’t have to pretend to be her father’s perfect daughter. Did Richard even know who Julie was deep down? A teenage girl with a questing mind who had no idea how to go about relating to him honestly?
She didn’t think he could be that oblivious. He had shown startling insight into her own psyche. He’d correctly identified her jealousy of Francie; he’d seen and admired the fierce lioness at Monticello; he’d delivered that staggering observati
on about her feelings for Cam. Did he really know so little about Julie? Or did she see in their relationship only what he and Julie wanted her to see?
She needed to talk to him about Julie, share her thoughts and insights. He might tell her it was none of her business, tune her out, raise the barriers all he wanted. She could ignore any frosty exterior he put up against her. Julie needed help, and if Julie’s father didn’t see that, then it was up to Julie’s aunt to tell him.
“Are you going to wear that to the party?”
“What?” Julie glanced down and flushed. “I guess not.”
Here, at least, an aunt could come in handy. “You know, the jeans wouldn’t be so bad with a different top. Or you could keep the top, and wear different jeans.”
Julie bit her lip. “You think I should change.”
“At the risk of sounding old-fashioned, yes.” Laura waited a moment, to bait the hook. “The stores are open today. My offer of birthday and Christmas presents still stands. We can finish up here, if you like, and run out for an hour or so. We have plenty of time.”
She might never be a stepmother, but she could be an aunt. She could keep Julie from being grounded for the rest of her natural life.
“Okay,” said Julie. “That’s very nice of you, and I’m sorry I’ve been so – well, you know, to you. I’m sorry I asked you all those questions. Is it okay if I make the rest of the cookies before we go? Dad says he’s looking forward to them.”
~•~
Lucy Maitland prided herself on being able to coax anything out of anyone. All her life, people with secrets suddenly felt the urge to unburden their hearts to her friendly girl-next-door persona. She could empathize with a new client, and, without knowing quite how it happened, he’d admit that he was setting up a trust to avoid a huge payout for a surprise divorce. She could say, “Tom, what’s this charge on the Visa from the hobby shop?” and he would find himself confessing that, yes, he had splurged on the German-made engine for his newest RC model. She could ask her older sister why she looked so tired, and before she knew it, Diana would shower her with Sex and the City details about her latest lover.
All That Lies Broken (Ashmore's Folly Book 2) Page 13
