Kelly wished she could be so nonchalant, but she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that Jackson was leaving. She followed him to the door. “Thanks again for meeting us at the airport.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” he assured her.
Her heart was pounding so hard and fast, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it, and she had to moisten her suddenly dry lips before she could speak. “What I started to say, when we were in the kitchen, about Ava’s father—”
“It’s not really any of my business,” he said.
Actually, it is, she wanted to respond. But aloud she only said, “I want to talk to you about it. There are some things you should know.”
He frowned. “Do you have legal questions about custody?”
She wondered how he could be so oblivious—or maybe she expected too much of him. After thirteen years, he had no reason to suspect that she had news that would turn his whole life—all of their lives—upside down. And instead of being exasperated, maybe she should be grateful that he had no clue, because it meant that she could keep her secret a little bit longer.
Except that coming face-to-face with her daughter’s father, she was forced to acknowledge that thirteen years was already too long. Jackson needed to know the truth, and she needed to deal with the consequences of that revelation—whatever they might be.
“It’s nothing like that,” she said to him now. “I don’t want to talk to you as a lawyer but as a…friend.”
“Okay,” he finally said. “Why don’t you give me a call when you’re ready to talk?”
If she waited until she was ready, she knew that the conversation might not happen for another thirteen years. But she nodded. “I will. Thanks.”
“Okay,” he said again, and then he was gone.
Kelly stood for a moment, staring at the back of the door and feeling much like she imagined Pandora had felt when she’d lifted the lid of a box that should never have been opened.
Lukas and Ava were both on their second slices of pizza by the time Kelly made her way to the kitchen. They also had cans of soda, which Lukas had obviously brought in one of the grocery bags. Beside Kelly’s plate was an open bottle and a glass of her favorite Shiraz.
“Okay, you’re forgiven for not meeting us at the airport.”
He smiled. “I figured you’d had a long day and might need some help to unwind.”
“Food and good company would have sufficed, but the wine is a definite bonus.” She picked up the glass and sipped.
“Eat.” He nudged her plate toward her. “If you drink that on an empty stomach, you’ll fall asleep at the table.”
Kelly dutifully picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite.
“I brought a few essentials for the morning, too,” Lukas told her. “Bread, milk, eggs, juice, coffee.”
“Coffee?” She nearly whimpered with gratitude. “Now you’re definitely forgiven.”
Ava polished off her third slice and wiped her fingers on a paper napkin. “Can I go now?”
“‘Thanks for dinner, Mom,’” Kelly said, mimicking her daughter’s voice. “‘You’re very welcome, honey.’ ‘May I be excused now?’ ‘Of course.’”
Lukas lifted his can of soda to hide his smile. Ava, predictably, rolled her eyes, before she dutifully intoned, “Thanks for dinner, Mom. May I be excused now?”
“Of course,” Kelly said agreeably. “After you put your plate in the dishwasher.”
Lukas reached for another slice as Ava clomped up the stairs. “So,” he said, when she was out of earshot. “How does it feel to be back?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s been such a long time. I don’t know if this is the right thing—for Ava or for me.”
“She’s not happy about the move?”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
He shrugged. “She’s twelve. She’ll get over it.”
“I hope so.”
“So—belly button ring?” he prompted.
She just shook her head. “Can you believe it?”
“I’m having a little difficulty reconciling my memories of the cute little second-grader who clutched my hand so tightly with the brooding purple-haired preteen-ager who barely looked up from her plate.”
“The purple streaks aren’t so bad. You should have seen her a few months ago—her hair was Pepto-Bismol pink. Her best friend’s older sister put the color on for her one afternoon when I had to work late.” She sighed. “The first tangible evidence that my formerly docile angel had developed a rebellious streak.”
Lukas winced sympathetically. “How did you handle that?”
“I took a deep breath and reminded myself that hair color is easily undone—unlike a piercing or a tattoo. And I knew that it was, at least in part, my fault. I’d been so preoccupied with my job that I didn’t realize how much distance had grown between us,” she admitted.
“When rumors of cutbacks first started circulating around the lunchroom at work, I crossed my fingers and prayed that I wouldn’t lose my job. And when those cuts were made and I was spared, I was so grateful I didn’t balk at all the extra hours I had to work.
“And then I realized that I’d given up my life to keep my job. And I’d somehow lost the close connection I used to share with Ava.” Her daughter’s recent willful behavior was proof of that—and reminded Kelly uncomfortably of the impulsiveness that she herself had occasionally exhibited before motherhood had taught her to consider the consequences of her actions.
“And because I was working so many extra hours,” she continued her explanation, “Ava was hanging around with her friend Rachel—and Regan, Rachel’s sixteen-year-old sister—a lot.”
“Then I’d guess that you made this move at the right time.”
“I hope so,” she said again.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Kelly lifted her glass and took another sip of wine as she considered how much she should say.
“Because I know there’s more to this cross-country move than that,” he prompted when she failed to respond.
She nodded. “I wanted a career change and a change of scenery for Ava, but I also hoped that coming back to Pinehurst might provide a chance for her to meet her father.”
His brows rose. “Then he does live in Pinehurst.”
“He does live in Pinehurst,” she confirmed.
“Someone I know?” he asked.
The undercurrents in his tone were exactly why she’d never revealed the identity of her daughter’s father to him. “Doesn’t everyone know almost everyone else in this town?” she countered.
“Who is it?”
She touched a hand to his arm. “Please—let me tell him before I tell you.”
He frowned. “Are you saying that this guy doesn’t know he has a twelve-year-old daughter?”
“I couldn’t tell him,” she reminded Lukas. “By the time I knew I was pregnant, he was already with someone else.”
She’d wanted to tell Jackson that she was going to