"That's why he suddenly canceled all his engagements." She paused, still curious. "Why did you stay in L.A. after that? Because that sounds like one conversation."
"The rest has nothing to do with Emily or the book."
"I want to hear it anyway."
"Fine. I've been thinking about leaving your father's firm. I want more autonomy, more freedom and more money. Your dad wants me to work my way up slowly. I've never been a patient man, Laura; you know that. I've been offered a job in L.A., and I was interviewing with several of the partners yesterday and today."
Laura felt her jaw drop. "Are you serious?"
"I didn't tell you, because I haven't decided what I want to do yet."
"You haven't decided? This isn't your decision. It's our decision. I'm supposed to be your wife, your partner."
"Calm down," Drew said, looking around.
"No, I'm done with calm. This is my life you're talking about. If you're not happy working for my father, then you should leave. But you need to talk to me before you make decisions about uprooting our family and moving to L.A. Or weren't you planning to take us with you?"
Drew ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know anymore, Laura. Can you honestly say you're happy?"
She stared at him in dismay. "I think I could be happy—if we made some changes."
"Like what?" he demanded.
Normally, his abrupt manner would have intimidated her, but she seemed to have grown a spine sometime in the last week. "Like you come home for dinner at least three times a week. We spend quality time alone together." She waved her hand in the air. "I want you to be part of the family. I want you to listen to me when I talk to you instead of brushing me off."
"Is that it?"
"No. I want to know where our money is going. I saw deposits and withdrawals in our accounts that I don't understand. Do you have some sort of side business?"
"I did a little moonlighting for cash. Some private consulting," Drew admitted. "I sent the money to my father to cover his gambling debts. Someone was threatening to break his legs. I probably should have let that happen, but he is my father."
The shame in his eyes touched her. Deep down, she'd known that Drew's ambition and drive for money and security, the perfect home, the perfect family were the result of his early unsettled upbringing, but that had never been clearer than it was at this moment. "You should have told me, Drew. I don't want there to be secrets between us. Whatever your parents need, I'm behind you." She took a breath, realizing she had to show him that she also understood that this couldn't be a one-sided endeavor. "I know it's not all your fault, Drew. I've been hanging on to you like a drowning swimmer clinging to a buoy. I've been pulling you down with me. I want to be more of my own person. I don't know exactly what that means, but I know it will include getting back to my music, playing the flute, having girlfriends who understand and inspire me. And I'm going to stop worrying about whether or not you or my parents approve of every move I make."
"Where is all this coming from?" he asked, clearly surprised by her outspokenness. "What happened to you, Laura?"
"Emily happened. The book happened. I ran into Natalie and Madison, and I was reminded of who I once wanted to be. I remembered how great you and I used to be, how we used to balance each other out. But somewhere along the way, we fell into these roles that exist on some parallel plane. I don't want you to have your life and me to have my life; I want our lives to be intertwined. Do you want that, too? Because if you don't, if you really don't, then you need to tell me."
Drew didn't answer for what was the longest moment of her life. "When I met you, I knew you'd make the perfect wife. You'd be the kind of woman who would want to stay home with the kids, want to make a home, a family. And I wanted that, something solid and permanent, not like the home I grew up in. My father was never around. When he was around he was drinking and gambling. He was a first-class loser. My mother worked a couple of jobs to keep a roof over our heads, so she was always too tired to care much about me. That's not what I want for my children." He took a breath, then continued. "I'd like to make things work with us, Laura, but you've got to open your eyes. I'm not your father, who's the perfect businessman, husband, and father. In fact, I've never been the guy you think I am. I've just pretended to be, so I wouldn't lose you. But I'm tired of pretending. I am who I am. I'm ambitious. Sometimes I cut corners. I don't always know which lines I shouldn't cross. I'm not sure how to be a good husband and father. I didn't have the best example myself. So maybe you should be asking yourself if you want to stay with me, instead of asking me if I want to stay with you."
She looked at him in surprise, unable to believe what she'd just heard. "I think that's the most honest thing you've ever said to me."
"Yeah, well, I guess it's that kind of day."
"Drew, I don't want you to be my father. I don't even like my father very much. He made my mother's life miserable. He was always working. He had affairs. His idea of family is nothing like my idea. I've been terrified the last few years that you were turning into him, and I was turning into my mother. That's the last thing I want, Drew. I want us to be us. I want you and me and the girls to make our own way. And I want you to share with me the way you just did—with honesty and candor." She paused. "I've been holding on to you for the last ten years, Drew. If you want me to stay—if you want me in your life—you're going to have to hold on to me. It's your turn."
Drew gazed into her eyes for a long moment, then reached out and took her hand in his. He gave it a squeeze and said, "Let's go home."
Her eyes blurred with tears. Home had never sounded so good.
Chapter Twenty
The drive home seemed to take forever. Natalie had chosen to go back to San Francisco with Madison, leaving Cole and Dylan to deal with the details of Greg, Diane and the Santa Cruz Police Department. It was finally over. Her name would be cleared, her reputation repaired. She could go back to work, continue with her life. She should be feeling great.
"That's the third time you've sighed in the last five minutes," Madison said, darting a quick look at her. "Want to talk about it?"
"Not particularly."
"Does it have something to do with why you're driving home with me instead of with Cole?"
Natalie sighed again. "I really don't want to get into it."
"Are you having regrets about hooking up with Cole?"
"Yes. No. It doesn't matter." She tucked her hair behind her ear, realizing her answer had done little to satisfy Madison, who was casting her sideways glances every few seconds. "Look, Madison, Cole and I are over. We know everything there is to know. There's nothing left to find out. Cole will go back to his life, and I'll do the same. End of story."
"I don't think this is the end. You're in love with the guy, and I have a sneaking suspicion he's in love with you, too."
Natalie shook her head. "He isn't. I gave him a chance to tell me back at the house. He didn't. Cole knows as well as I do that we have nowhere to go with any kind of relationship."
"Why? The past is in the past. Why can't you have a future?"
"Because there's more between us now than there was before. His parents can't look at me without feeling the loss of Emily. Even if they're finally convinced that I didn't push her off the roof, they'll still blame me for not being there when she fell. I can't say that they're wrong. If I hadn't been drunk that night, if I hadn't been so self-absorbed, maybe I would have been there for Emily."
"Maybe, maybe, maybe. Life isn't about maybe or what if, or should have. We all make choices, some of them bad, some of them good. Emily made choices, too. She's the one who slept with a married man. She's the one who went out on that roof. She's the one who argued with Diane. You had nothing to do with any of that. Perfect Emily was not perfect. It's about time we all realized that and let her go."
"You're right," Natalie said. "I don't want to judge her."
"Then don't."
"But since I went out on that roof
today, I can't stop thinking about that night. There must have been a moment when Emily saw the madness in Diane's eyes, when she backed up, when she felt herself go over..." Natalie couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.
"Do you think Diane pushed her?"
"In a blind fit of passion, probably. Or else she just took a swing at Emily and Emily backed up and slipped off. I don't think we'll ever be able to prove it one way or the other. At least Diane's presence on the roof that night will prove that I didn't do it. Unfortunately, Emily's affair will probably come out, too. Unless the Parishes can bury it all. I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to do that. I wouldn't blame them, either. I don't think the world needs to know that Emily was in love with a married man. By the way, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. How did you find the professor and get him to come to the house?"
"That was easy. I followed Diane and her friend to the stadium. I was hanging around outside wondering what to do next when Diane came out again. She ran over to a car that had just pulled up in the parking lot. A man got out and she started yelling at him. I figured he was the professor. After their discussion, she took off, and I moved in."
"Just like that," Natalie said in amazement. "I've been chasing that man for days. And you walked over and said hello. Amazing."
"I got lucky. Not that we needed him in the end. Diane was the real villain in this. And it was her own husband's book that finally cleared the air. If he hadn't written Fallen Angel, we would have never known the truth."
"You're right."
"It's funny how we thought no one had spoken to Emily that night," Madison continued. "In actual fact, there was a damn parade going through her room. You were talking to her while Dylan was hovering in the hall; then Drew went in to see her. He said she was on the phone talking to someone—I guess it was the professor. No wonder she went out on the roof. She probably wanted to be alone."
"Instead, she was accosted by the wife of the man she was sleeping with."
"Hey, at least she had sex before she died."
"Madison!"
"Sorry, but you wouldn't have wanted her to die a virgin, would you? Isn't it better to know that she'd loved someone, had that experience?"
Natalie thought about that for a moment. "I guess it is better to know that. She always wanted to find love. And she did. I think Greg Martin truly loved her, even though he was married, and what they were doing was wrong."
"Love isn't always right." Madison paused. "Speaking of love, what's your prediction on Laura and Drew? Do you think they'll stay together?"
"I hope so. They have a lot of history together, not to mention children and a home." Natalie gave Madison a curious look. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Somewhere along the way I got the idea that you were interested in Dylan."
Madison uttered a harsh laugh. "Even if I were, so what? He's still in love with Emily. He probably always will be. You saw the closet shrine in his apartment. How could anyone compete with a goddess like Emily?"
"I think if anyone could, you could," Natalie said. "You're stunningly pretty."
"That's true," Madison said with a toss of her wavy blond hair.
"And you're smart, ambitious, competitive. Tell me something—do you really want Dylan, or is he just a challenge? The one who got away?"
"He is a challenge." Madison thought for a moment. "Sometimes I think he's a lunatic, but he's interesting. He's creative, different, bold, daring—not at all boring."
"Sounds like you're hooked."
"Not at all. I'm just intrigued. I'd like Dylan to see me for who I really am. He judged me early on, and he was wrong. I want him to know he was wrong. Then we'll see where we go from there—if we go anywhere. It's not like I need a man in my life. I'm doing fine on my own."
"So am I," Natalie said, but as she leaned back in her seat and gazed out the window, she knew she wasn't doing fine at all.
* * *
By Monday Cole was back at work. Garrett Malone, also known as Greg Martin, had held a press conference that morning from Santa Cruz stating that he'd made up the entire story, that he had no basis of proof for any of his allegations regarding Natalie or any other women named in his book. The Parish family had also offered a statement through their attorney that they were satisfied with the results of the police investigation and believed that Emily's death had in fact been an accident.
Cole had had a lengthy, emotional conversation with his parents, and they had agreed to ask the police to close the case. With no concrete evidence that Diane Thomas had pushed Emily off the roof, they didn't see the point of a long trial that would only damage Emily's reputation. However, in usual Parish fashion, his father had put pressure on the university to suggest that both Diane and her husband, Greg Martin, resign. While Cole hated the idea of Diane getting away with murder, he knew that his parents, especially his mother, could not handle the scandalous press that would go after a story about Emily's affair with the professor. He'd been raised to protect his little sister, and this was the last thing he could do to protect her.
Cole leaned back in his office chair, the panel of television screens on the opposite wall showing events happening around the world. Soon he would be one of those reporters. It was time—past time. Late last night he'd finally made the decision to change his life.
He looked up as Josh popped his head in the door. "Hey, how's it going?"
"That depends on whether the rumors are true." Josh sat down in the chair opposite Cole's desk and gave him a searching look. "Are you leaving the paper?"
"News travels fast around here. I'm not leaving the paper. I'm going on assignment to the Middle East."
"Why?"
"It's what I've always wanted. You know that."
"I know it's what you used to want. I thought that might have changed, especially in the last week."
Cole shook his head, unwilling to admit to Josh that his passion for adventure didn't seem quite as strong as it had once been. "Did you talk to Dylan?"
"He filled me in on everything, except what's going on with you and Natalie."
"Nothing is going on. It's over."
Josh leaned forward, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "That's what you said the last time."
"This time it's true. I'm leaving. It's what I have to do."
"What you have to do? I thought you just said it was what you wanted to do."
"You know what I mean."
"I don't think you know what you mean. Do I need to throw a stapler at your head to get your attention? What you want—who you want—is right here in San Francisco, not the Middle East."
Cole stood up, not so happy to have Josh in his office anymore. "I need to brief Marty on some things. Why don't you buy me a drink later? I'm not leaving until tomorrow."
"When will you be back?" Josh asked, as he got to his feet.
"When I've had enough."
Josh walked with him to the office door. "Natalie is the one for you, Cole. No one else has ever come close. Don't you think it's about time you told her that?"
"It's too late for us. Natalie doesn't believe in second chances."
"But you do. You're getting a second chance at the career you always wanted. Why can't you have Natalie, too?"
"Because she doesn't want me."
"Are you sure about that?"
* * *
"Dr. Bishop? There's someone in the waiting room who'd like to speak to you."
"A patient?" Natalie asked, jotting down some notes on the chart of the last patient she had seen. It felt good to be back to work. The attending physician and significant others at the hospital had all apologized and welcomed her back. In fact, she'd been offered a full-time position at St. Timothy's if she wanted it. She was still considering that one. She wasn't sure how close she wanted to stay to Cole. San Francisco was his town. It always would be.
"She's not ill. She just wants to talk to you," the nurse answered. "She's sitting by the door,
wearing an expensive black suit. You can't miss her."
"I'll be right there." Natalie finished her notes, then walked out to the waiting room. She didn't know who she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't Janet Parish. Swallowing hard, she stared at the older woman, seeing the lines around her eyes and the gray streaks in her hair. She'd aged in the last week. Yet there was something softer in her eyes that hadn't been there the last time they'd seen each other—which, of course, had been one of the more embarrassing moments of Natalie's life.
Janet stood up, clasping the strap of her purse tightly in her hands. "Natalie, I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I didn't know how else to find you without asking Cole or Richard, and I wanted to do this myself."
Natalie glanced around the room and waved Janet toward a quiet corner. "Do what?" she asked, as they sat down together.
"Thank you," Janet said.
"There's nothing to thank me for."
"Yes, there is. I went through Emily's journal last night. Did you read it?"
"No. It wasn't my place."
"It wasn't mine, either, but my curiosity got the better of me. I thought I knew my daughter, but there was so much I didn't know about her." Janet took a moment to gather her thoughts. "I didn't realize that I was holding her back. I didn't know that Emily resented our phone calls, that she felt we didn't trust her to take care of herself. I didn't understand until I read her journal that Emily went to school to get away from me." Her eyes filled with tears. "I loved her so much, Natalie. She was my whole world. I wanted to know everything that she did, everything that she thought. I was so proud of her. I thought she was such a special person."
"Emily was special, and she went away to school to find herself," Natalie corrected, unwilling to let Janet live under any more misconceptions. "Like the rest of us, she wanted to experience life and independence. She was a typical college girl."
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 84
