“Thank you,” Megan said. “How are things going at the university? Keeping you busy?”
“We’ve taken some hits to the faculty because of the economy, I’m afraid,” her father explained. “As a result, the rest of us have had to pick up extra classes.”
“Any problems with that?”
“Not really. It’s always nice to interact with students. Your mother and I have had to cut back on publication, though. And guest lecturing. Not enough hours in the day to do everything.”
“Never enough hours in the day,” her mother agreed.
“So what brings you into town, Meggie? You haven’t been in the States in how long?”
“Over six years.” She dropped a slice of lemon in her glass. “Since San Sebastian Mission in Southern California.”
“That’s right. I remember. And how’s Violet?”
Megan hadn’t prepared what she wanted to share, didn’t intend to explain the details about what had brought them to New Orleans. That much she knew. Determined to keep things cordial, she faced them. They stood together as they’d always done, a team. And she was surprised by how much older they looked than when she’d last seen them. Time marched on. Life, too. Only they hadn’t been living it together because the past was in the way.
Megan was so tired of the past.
“Violet’s wonderful, thanks.” She forced a smile. “She’s a loving, smart girl, and she’s doing very well in school. I couldn’t be more proud.”
“Where is she now?” her mother asked.
The moment of truth. “Violet’s here in town with me.”
“And her father?”
Such a simple question. But there was nothing simple about the answer. The long-ago past, all the uncertainty, all the disapproval, all the disappointment swelled in that one simple, but deceptive question.
“Violet wanted to get to know her father, so here we are. It was time.”
Past time, but Megan didn’t share that. She set her spoon down on a napkin, took a sip of tea, determined to keep things positive, determined to stay in the moment and let the past remain history.
She didn’t know how her parents would react, whether or not they would reject her choice as they had all those years ago, whether they’d stand side by side and tell her she wasn’t welcome home with her daughter.
“You’re not a teenager anymore, Megan.” Her mother frowned, a look of such disapproval that Megan withered a little inside. “So why are you still sneaking around like one? It was unbecoming then. It’s unbecoming now.”
Megan stood there with the glass in her hand, confused. “I don’t understand. You asked me a question. I answered it.”
She glanced at her father, saw resignation in his face.
“We know you’ve been in town for days, Meggie,” he said. “You never called to tell us.”
“Father Lafevre saw you at the airport with the new police chief,” her mother added. “He asked about you after mass. Of course, we had no idea you were even in the country.”
That came at her sideways. Maybe because she hadn’t yet gotten her feet under her after her talk with Violet. Hadn’t had a chance to get up before she felt knocked down again. But Megan’s chest grew tight, made it impossible to breathe, to do anything beyond the basics of survival.
She’d brought this on herself. She was the one who’d shown up uninvited. The one who hadn’t called when she’d first gotten to town. How had she not seen Father Lafevre, a fixture in their home parish on the university campus? But Megan already knew that answer—she’d only seen Nic.
She’d never meant to place her parents in an awkward situation, felt guilty because she had. Once again.
But as she struggled to rein in her emotions, tried to drag in an anxious breath, there was a part of her that rejected this entire situation. Not the hurt young girl who’d left home without realizing she wouldn’t be invited back, but the grown woman, the single mother, who simply couldn’t imagine ever treating her daughter this way. Not for any reason.
She’d always taught Violet that there wasn’t anything she could do to make Megan not love her. She’d tried to live an example of unconditional love. Whether her daughter hopped on a plane and took off for a different continent without leaving a note. Whether she lashed out in anger to be hurtful.
“I love you. No matter what.” Megan had even made sure Violet understood if anything unexpected should ever happen. “It doesn’t matter if the last time we were together you were angry with me or we had an argument. Just remember I knew you loved me no matter what.”
No matter what.
Megan had even walked into the DiLeos’ home after keeping one very big secret and hadn’t been made to feel anything but welcome. Not a one of them had tried to make her feel guilty. Not even Nic, who had every right in the world to resent the way she’d treated him.
But in her home…with parents who were supposed to love her no matter what…
Setting down the glass, she took a deep, steadying breath. A small effort, but the vise eased up on her chest.
Shifting her gaze from her mother to her dad, she said, “My apologies for embarrassing you. I’m afraid I had my hands full when I first got into town. It’s taken me a few days to get things under control.”
Only truth in there.
“You didn’t embarrass us, Meggie. We were hurt that you came to town and didn’t tell us.” And he looked so hurt.
“You involved yourself with that boy again and didn’t even bother to tell us,” her mother admonished. “How did you expect us to feel? We had to hear about it through the grapevine.”
Guilt, guilt and more guilt.
Megan was being crushed beneath the weight.
“Mom, that boy is a man now. And one who has missed out on his daughter’s entire life. I was very focused on facilitating a good start to that relationship, and to be truthful, it never occurred to me you’d want to hear what was going on with Nic.” There, she’d said his name in front of them.
“Of course, we want to know what’s going on in your life, Meggie. Whatever it is.”
“Forgive me, Dad, but how was I supposed to know that? The only things you ever ask me about are work and how Violet’s doing in school.”
Her mother stepped away from the butcher block and went to stand in front of the sink, clearly struggling for control. “You’re blaming us?”
“No, Mom. I’m not blaming anyone. But we don’t talk all that often. When we do we usually catch up on the big stuff.”
“Phone lines work both ways, Megan. Maybe not in the countries you’ve been living in, but here in New Orleans, it’s as easy for us to pick up the phone as it is for you.”
It took Megan a moment to get past her surprise. “As far as I knew you had as much of a relationship with me as you wanted. I didn’t realize you were interested in anything more.”
“How could you think that? You’re our daughter.” Her mother turned her back and stared out the window, visibly trembling. Her dad went over and slipped an arm around her waist.
Megan stared at her parents’ backs and their show of solidarity, feeling taken aback by all the emotion, feeling ganged up on again, feeling as if she was missing something important.
Her own anger kept getting in the way. “How could I think that? Well, it might have had something to do with you telling me I wasn’t welcome home with my daughter.”
Her mother flinched, but her dad frowned at her over his shoulder. “Now, Meggie. That was a long time ago. I thought we moved past that.”
“How could we move past it, Dad? We’ve never talked about it. Not once in all these years.”
“We only wanted what was best for you.”
She shrugged helplessly. “How was telling me I wasn’t welcome to come home with Violet the best for me?”
That brought her mother around. “We didn’t expect you to run off and replace us. We expected you to come to your senses and come home.”
“I do
n’t understand what you’re talking about. What do you mean replace you?”
“With the Gleasons, Megan. And now Marie lives with you. How did you expect us to feel?”
“They helped me when I needed help. I’m grateful to them.”
“We’re your parents. It was our job to help you.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Megan’s voice broke.
Her mother exhaled an exasperated sigh. “We were trying to get you to come to your senses. You were so young. You had your whole life ahead of you, and we didn’t want you to ruin it because of one mistake.”
“Meggie,” her father said, his tone conciliatory, ever the peacemaker. “Please try to understand. You’re a parent. You can imagine what we went through. We had no idea you were dating that boy before you told us you were pregnant. We only wanted to help you resolve a difficult situation. You would do the same for Violet.”
“I would never abandon my daughter in another country and tell her she wasn’t welcome home with a newborn.”
Her dad recoiled as if she’d slapped him and her mother intervened. “Megan, you’re not thinking clearly. You weren’t then. If you’d have come home with a baby, the father would have known. You’d have been committing to a course that would have altered your whole life. What were you going to do? Share custody while you both worked to support her and tried to get through college? Get married and raise her together? Would you have moved in with his family or invited him to live here?” She spread her hands in entreaty. “Don’t you see? You were a bright, beautiful young woman and we loved you so much. We wanted so much more than that for you.”
For a moment Megan could only stare, trying to register everything, unable. It was too much. Her head wrapped around the only part that made any sense. “You told me I couldn’t come home to keep me from Nic?”
“That boy used you,” her father bellowed, making Megan jump. All vestiges of the peacemaker were gone. “He had no right to go near you after what he did. I told him to stay away from you or else he’d be answering to the police. You were underage. There are laws.”
She shook her head, not sure she was hearing clearly. “You spoke to Nic? When?”
“When he showed up at this house looking for you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’d started summer session and he wasn’t to see you again or else he’d face the consequences of his actions.”
Nic hadn’t told her any of this. Not one word. But he’d come here looking for her, never even considering that she’d take off without a word. Knowing Nic, he likely hadn’t believed her dad. He’d probably waited for her to contact him. She knew it deep down inside. He would have waited for her to contact him because he’d believed in her. He believed in them.
Suddenly, she could see Nic as he’d once been, the young man she’d fallen in love with, standing on the doorstep of this house, being threatened.
She’d failed so utterly and completely.
“My daughter is not a mistake.” Megan’s voice broke the quiet. “She never was. She’s an incredible, intelligent, funny girl who is everything important in my life. She taught me that nothing else matters but the people who love you. That’s all.”
She was coming unglued. It was coming on like a wave so she did the only thing she could think to do. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. It’s best we table this conversation for the time being.”
Megan turned and headed down the hallway, didn’t look back when her dad called her name. She forced her feet to move quickly, and only as she let herself out the door did the tears finally break through, practically blinding her as she stumbled down the steps.
When she’d left fifteen years ago, it had never occurred to her she wouldn’t look at her lifelong home again until now, when the life she’d created for herself and her daughter was over.
Megan circled through the neighborhood toward St. Charles Avenue again, tears still streaming down her face, thoughts racing with memories.
“Healthy,” someone said.
And Megan, wasted from fifteen hours of labor, sweaty and feeling half-dead, opened her eyes.
A boy or a girl?
No one was going to tell her. They’d prepared her for this moment, worked her through the issues, helped her reach the decision that giving up this child for adoption was a good thing, in the best interests of all concerned. She’d been at peace with that.
Or thought she had.
Until this very instant, when the most important thing in the world became knowing whether her baby was a boy or a girl, had she realized this wasn’t peace at all. No, Megan had simply been disconnected. Pregnancy had been a thing—a mistake—that had been happening to her body, something to endure and take care of so she could put this all behind her and get on with the rest of her life.
But now…
She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the tiniest baby, the sweetest face. A girl.
She looked like a little pineapple, her hair half plastered crazily against her perfectly round head, her face wrinkled and her eyes still shut tight against life.
Precious and beautiful and vulnerable.
All the pregnancy classes, all the careful preparation from the people at St. Gianna’s hadn’t come close to making Megan ready for the reality of sitting half-naked on this birthing table, sweaty and drained, gazing at her daughter for the very first time.
Give her away? To strangers?
Megan knew all the arguments, every one of them had been branded into her brain during the long months of the pregnancy.
A responsible person would want the baby to have the kind of life an unwed, teenage mother couldn’t provide.
If she cared at all for Nic, she wouldn’t want to saddle him with the responsibility of a wife and child, or at the very least eighteen years of child support payments he couldn’t afford.
And what about all the married couples who wanted a child and hadn’t been blessed to have one of their own?
Megan didn’t care. Not about any of it. Not when she looked at that sweet face and her mistake was suddenly a tiny little person who deserved to be loved.
Her arms felt like noodles when she reached toward the nurse and said, “Give me my daughter.”
Megan’s cell phone rang, jerking her to the present. Fumbling to reach into her pocket, she slipped the phone in her hand, glanced at the display and recognized Nic’s number. She flipped it open and forced his name through her throat grown rusty with tears.
“I got reservations at Commander’s Palace for seven-thirty, but I’m still wrapping things up here. Violet and I won’t have time to pick you up. Can you meet us there?”
“Nic.” His name came out on a strangled breath. She tried again, a battle of wills. “I hope you won’t mind if I bail on you. Give you and Violet a chance to be together. Are you okay with that?”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. “I’m good with it. Violet?”
“Is looking forward to spending time with you.”
The situation was really very simple.
She and Nic needed to interact as parents.
Violet needed to establish a relationship with her father.
They were not a family.
Not in any sense that mattered, anyway.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE INTERCOM ON THE PANEL beside the front door buzzed, and Nic crossed the living room and headed straight toward it.
“Hey,” he said into the speaker.
“Hey, Nic. It’s Megan.”
“Come on up.” He depressed the button that would unlock the door downstairs.
Then he stood paralyzed like a damned idiot, knowing she still had to wait for the elevator that would bring her to the fourth floor. His heart thumped too hard in his chest.
What in hell was wrong with him? They’d been alone before. At the airport. The notary. So why was he getting worked up now?
Forcing himself away from the door, he walked through the
breakfast area and into the living room. He opened the shutters on all the windows overlooking the courtyard as if opening them might ease this strangled feeling, a feeling of being trapped. The sun was setting outside, but the courtyard below was well lit. Didn’t matter. Opening the shutters didn’t do a damned thing. He practically jumped when the doorbell rang.
He went back to the door. He opened it. And there she was, standing in the hallway, wearing a smile.
“Hello, Nic,” she said.
“Megan.” He stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. “Come on in.”
She passed in front of him and he held his breath to avoid the smell of her shampoo, didn’t need any more attacks on his senses no matter how subtle they might be.
“Wow,” she said. “Your place is wonderful.”
Wide-eyed, she glanced around the spacious living area of his corner condo with fourteen-foot ceilings, exposed masonry and big windows that overlooked the courtyard on one side and the street on the other. It was a good condo as far as condos went, which was why he’d plunked down the money to buy it. The seven-block walk to the French Quarter was a perk.
“Thanks,” he said. “Parking garage and a fitness center. Can’t beat it. Violet get off okay?”
“Tess and Anthony picked her up when they dropped off the twins with your mother. That was really sweet of them to include her. I don’t imagine they get out all that often with the twins being so young.”
“It’s not as bad as you might think. My mother’s always up for babysitting.”
“Well, I’m not surprised. She’s been great with Violet.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Nic swept past her and headed into the living room. He sat in a recliner leaving the couch for Megan.
She followed him, but didn’t sit. Instead, she strolled to one set of windows then to the other, making him glad he’d opened the shutters. “What a lovely view. How on earth did you luck into a corner unit?”
“Family inheritance, so to speak.” Nic studied her. She wore another one of those long, flowy skirts that worked with the crazy spring weather as it swirled around the lines of her legs.
Then There Were Three Page 14
