“Which I’ll be happy to deliver when the time comes, if you want me to,” Gemma assured her. “The good news is that you’re healthy, things look fine, and you’ve got some time to come to terms with this.”
Lisa nodded and leaned into the hug. She had time, but not much.
MAUREEN THOMAS SAT in her car across the street from Reston Realty and watched the front door, trying to build up the courage to go in and talk to Lisa, the daughter she had no right to call her own.
She had returned to Reston because she’d had no choice. She’d promised her aunt Violet that she would try to make amends with her daughter. It was far too late to patch things up with her parents, or to even get answers to the questions she’d carried with her from the time she’d been old enough to wonder why her mom and dad were so different than everyone else’s parents. Why their house and farm were overrun with things no one used, discards from other people that were left to rot or rust.
Before she could go back into the rabbit hole of endless questions, she pulled her mind to the present.
To anchor herself, she stared at her hands, which were scarred and callused from every minimum-wage job she’d had since she was sixteen. They were a reminder of how hard she’d fought to stay alive after she’d bound her breasts to stop the flow of milk and left her infant daughter in her parents’ care. She’d sneaked away in the night, dodging the twisted metal hazards in the front yard and running down the lane, hitchhiking to Aunt Violet in Chicago.
The terror and despair she’d felt then paled in comparison to the abject fear she was experiencing now at the thought of facing Lisa.
Maureen’s plan had been to stay at a motel for a couple of days, get a sense of how Lisa was, then see if they could talk. That plan had been destroyed in Wichita, Kansas, when the transmission dropped out of her car and she’d had to make a roaring, rattling entrance into a nearby garage.
The repairs had taken almost all of her spare cash, so now her plans had changed. She couldn’t stay at a motel, couldn’t eat at Margie’s Kitchen. There was no money.
Besides, she didn’t want to be seen around town, at least not until she had talked to Lisa. She would stay out of sight and sleep in her car again if necessary. She’d done it last night, driving to an old barn off the highway that she’d remembered as abandoned. But, of course, things had changed in the thirty-three years since she’d been back. The place was now a prosperous-looking organic gardening operation.
She had driven on, searching for someplace to park for the night, and had ended up at Reston Lake. Posted signs said the park was closed, but she’d driven around them and parked behind a stand of trees, leaving before dawn to avoid detection.
Maureen hated that she was sneaking into her own hometown, skulking around to see her daughter, but she simply wasn’t ready to face anyone else from her past. It would take all of her courage to talk to Lisa.
The uncomfortable truth was, if she wanted to follow Aunt Violet’s last wish, she would have to ask Lisa if she could stay with her. Lisa had once had an apartment in town—she’d proudly sent pictures of her place to Aunt Violet years ago when she’d gone into real estate. Heaven knew the girl had never sent pictures of the old Thomas place. Who would want their relatives to look at photos of a landfill?
“Now she owns the office. She’s an agent and a broker,” Maureen said aloud, gazing out her car window as she experienced a flurry of pride in what her daughter had accomplished in spite of the lousy circumstances she’d been handed.
Maureen reached for the door handle, hesitating to see Lisa at work, fearing a humiliating rejection. Still, she’d been humiliated before and she’d survived. She was terrified that’s all she would ever do—simply survive.
Jerking up on the door’s stiff handle, she stepped out of her old sedan. As the door clicked shut behind her, she smoothed the front of the coat that had fit her so well a few months ago but flapped around her figure now. At least it was good quality. Nothing to be ashamed of there.
As she walked up to the glass-fronted doors, she reached for the handle just as a man’s hand grasped it.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said in the local drawl she’d longed to hear again. “Let me get that for you.”
Flustered, she looked up at the handsome dark-haired man. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen him. She stepped inside and he followed.
The moment passed as the secretary looked up and broke into a wide smile. “Why, Ben McAdams, as I live and breathe. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“I am for now, Sandy.”
Maureen recognized the secretary, too. Her name had been Sandy Westlyn, but the nameplate on her desk said Sandy Borden. Maureen used to babysit for her and her two little brothers. She’d known the Borden family, too, but it had been so long, she couldn’t think of which one of the sons Sandy might have married.
Sandy managed to move her dazzled smile to take in Maureen’s somewhat subdued appearance and switch to being professional. “I’ll be right with you, Ben. How can I help you, ma’am?”
Maureen clenched her hands inside her coat pockets, grateful that Sandy didn’t seem to recognize her. “I’d like to see Lisa Thomas, please.”
“What a coincidence,” Ben said affably. “That’s just what I want, too.”
Maureen answered with a shaky smile, then went to a chair so she could stop the trembling in her legs. And get her bearings.
* * *
“LISA, YOU’VE GOT VISITORS.”
Sandy Borden’s voice pulled her away from the paperwork she was compiling for a new listing. She had spent an hour rereading the resort proposal, checking facts and figures. The more she read, the more excited she became at the prosperity the resort would bring to the county. She’d finally put the report away, knowing there was much work to be done before any ground-breaking could take place.
The faraway tone of her receptionist’s voice caught Lisa’s attention.
Intrigued, she closed her laptop, stood and walked to her office door. “Yes? Oh.” Her attention darted from her receptionist to the man at the front of the office.
Ben McAdams stood by the glass front door of Reston Realty. He tipped his hat and winked at Sandy. “So, how are you, beautiful? Haven’t seen you since little Derek won the roping competition at the county fair. How is he? How’s the family?”
Delighted color washed up Sandy’s face. As if she couldn’t help herself, she fluffed her hair and moistened her lips. “Oh, Ben. It’s great to see you. Everyone is fine. Little Derek is taller than you are now and he’s going to Oklahoma University in the fall.”
“Go, Sooners,” Ben said, making a fist and pumping the air. “That’s great. You must be proud of him.”
“Cliff and I both are.”
Ben tilted his head as he gave her a teasing grin. “I’m wondering, though, how he’s going to get out of the house with you two hanging on to his leg crying, ‘No, no, please don’t go.’”
Sandy laughed. “I don’t know. You’re supposed to raise kids to let them be independent, but I’m sure we’re not ready for that.”
“I’m sure you and Cliff have raised a good man. He’ll be okay.”
Lisa was so shocked to see Ben in her outer office, she could barely form words. She’d been thinking about him constantly for days, but