He shouldn’t have let similarities to his wife have any role in his assessment of Andrea Taylor. His personal feelings were not relevant to the case. That his past behavior still sparked guilt, made him all too aware of his fallibilities.
The last time he’d seen Andrea Taylor, she’d been very angry. While he could understand her reasons for feeling that way, he did have to take into account the fact that she had anger issues and hadn’t sought any form of professional help to deal with them. She didn’t have problems with drug use. And as far as he knew, she was now a successful real estate agent who worked hard to provide a good life for Shannon.
But four years ago Shannon had been a child struggling with her parents’ acrimonious divorce, which made her frightened not only of the future but also of her father moving away and her mother’s sudden outbursts. Andrea had been a very driven woman determined to control all aspects of her daughter’s life.
He hoped things had changed since then. Still, he wasn’t looking forward to meeting her again.
He refocused on the parents in session with him now, wanting to yell at them. He wanted to shout how lucky they were to have a daughter, how good their lives could be if they would only stop and listen to what their daughter wanted out of life.
Instead, he calmly reminded them of the listening strategies they had agreed upon last session.
* * *
WHILE SHE WAITED for Shannon to return, Andrea’s loneliness pressed around her like a blanket. She remembered Shannon’s first day at kindergarten—how impossibly empty the house had seemed when Andrea returned from walking Shannon the two blocks to the school...
Her cell rang.
“I got your message, and I’m on my way from Chicago.” At the sound of her mother’s voice, Andrea’s anxiety eased. “I’ll be there in a couple of hours. How is Shannon?”
“She’s been checked over, a few tests run and I’m taking her home soon.”
“How are you doing?” her mother asked softly.
“I’m—I’m worried. Scott called me, and he’s angry.”
“That man! What is the matter with him?”
Andrea rubbed her forehead, her mind racing over the past few hours. “You know Scott. Nothing’s changed.”
“Listen, honey. Forget him. You take care of yourself. I’m sure everything will be fine. Tell Shannon I love her and I’ll see her as soon as I get back in town. In the meantime, if you need anything, my cell phone is on.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Andrea said, pushing her hair off her face. “Call me when you get home.”
“I will.”
Andrea hung up. What was taking so long? Had they found something? Were they consulting with another doctor? She wasn’t very good at waiting for anything, but especially not in this situation. She leaned against the wall just inside the cubicle.
If anything was wrong with Shannon, Andrea would have to get Scott involved, something she dreaded. As usual, she hadn’t gotten anything remotely like kindness from him, but maybe if she’d tried a little harder, she might have been able to calm him.
She clutched her cell phone, checking for messages. None. Scott could have called back if he was so concerned about Shannon. Thinking about her ex made her head pound and her neck tighten. Why did this have to happen now, when her life was going so well and Shannon seemed so happy? Shannon’s sudden interest in talking to her father felt like a betrayal of the relationship they’d built. Andrea tried to move her thoughts away from Scott but couldn’t escape the hurt that one phone call sparked. She feared Scott would use this incident to drive a wedge between her and Shannon.
If Scott saw this as a chance to take Shannon to join him and his new wife and children, knowing Shannon’s desire for a family... Andrea took a deep breath to ease the foreboding feeling inching its way around her heart.
She was so tired of the pressure of being in charge, of being the one responsible. She’d give anything right now to have someone to rely on, to help her get to the bottom of what was going wrong in Shannon’s life. Why hadn’t Shannon talked to her? Was she in shock? Could she have a head injury? Something was desperately wrong because, to Andrea’s knowledge, Shannon had never done anything even remotely like this before. Shannon loved school, and all her school activities. Shannon had always shared everything with her, and even now she couldn’t help but believe that given time Shannon would tell her everything leading up to the fall that landed her in the hospital. But how could she be sure? She hated going behind her daughter’s back to discover what was really going on, but she would if she had to. Exhausted, she tilted her head back to keep the tears from flowing.
There was a rustling sound as the nurse approached her. “Mrs. Taylor, Shannon’s tests were normal and she is ready to go home. I’ll run through the discharge instructions with you.”
Andrea followed the nurse to where Shannon sat slumped in a wheelchair, her hands in her lap, her head down.
“Shannon has several cuts on her knee, which we’ve dressed. Those dressings can come off in a couple of days, unless there’s further bleeding. Check in with your family doctor if you have any concerns.”
“Thank you,” she said as her gaze moved to her daughter, seeking signs of how Shannon was feeling. Shannon had always been such a stoic child, but tonight might have changed that.
“We’ll get you home and tucked into bed. We’ll talk about all this tomorrow when you’re feeling up to it,” she said, pushing the wheelchair ahead of her.
Shannon tossed her long blond hair off her face, stared up at her mother from the wheelchair and squared her shoulders. “What happened was no big deal. I fell and Kyle was there to help me,” she said as if annoyed by her mother’s presence.
Andrea saw the shift in her daughter’s gaze and had this awful feeling that she was lying. But she didn’t know what to say, how to approach her over this. “You could have been seriously injured, Shannon,” Andrea said, surprised at her daughter’s dismissive tone.
Shannon grabbed the wheels of the chair, stopping it, and jumped up. “I want to walk,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. There was a pronounced limp as she hurried away.
“Shannon, wait for me,” Andrea called as she followed her toward the entrance.
She caught up just as the automatic doors leading to the parking lot whirred open. “Wait here. I’ll bring the car around.”
Shannon scanned the parking lot. “No, I see it,” she muttered, wincing as she stepped off the curb.
Andrea’s concern mixed with irritation. Pushing aside her feelings, they headed toward the SUV, Andrea clicked the remote door opener and climbed into the vehicle. Shannon got in the passenger side and snapped on her seat belt as she groaned in pain.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s the seat belt. I hit my shoulder when I fell.”
Andrea’s breath stalled in her throat at the image of her little girl being hurt. She reached across the seat and hugged her daughter. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve never been so afraid in my life as when the call came saying you were here.”
“Mom, I’m sorry for worrying you. I didn’t mean to,” she whispered before kissing her mother’s cheek.
They held each other for a few moments, their closeness an instant reassurance. If Shannon was hiding something, not telling her the truth, it would work itself out once they were home. If necessary, she and Shannon would stay up all night to talk this out. They’d done it before during the divorce proceedings.
She hugged Shannon again before settling in and buckling her seat belt.