All A Heart Needs B&N (16 page)

"Was your husband tense because he'd quit his job?" Jessica asked.

"He was stressed out, yes, but it was his decision to quit. I don't really know what happened between him and his partner. Robert came home one day and said he was done. Helen, of course, blamed me. She said I put too much pressure on Robert to make money, but he was plenty ambitious on his own. In fact, he was a workaholic. He lived for his job. The kids and I always came second. You must remember how many times we had dinner without him, Sean."

"I do remember he wasn't around a lot," Sean said. "But getting back to the night of the fire…" He drew in a breath for strength and then said the words he should have said a long time ago. "I don't think I ever had a chance to tell you I was sorry for letting Stacy go home without telling anyone."

Lana stared back at him. "I was angry when I realized what had happened. I didn't know Stacy was at our house until I saw the ambulance and your father told me that Stacy was on her way to the hospital."

"I am so sorry," he repeated.

She blinked back a tear. "I wanted to scream at you. I think your father knew that. He wouldn't let me near you."

Sean was surprised to hear that. It wasn't like his father hadn't been angry with him, too.

"Your mother reminded me that you were only eight years old, and how I could blame such a young child for an innocent mistake."

"I blamed myself. I still do."

"We all have guilt to carry, but you didn't start that fire, and nothing will change what happened."

Silence followed her words. Lana finally looked at the albums on the table. She pushed the family album aside, then laid her hand on the cover of the pink album. She traced Stacy's name written in red ink on the front. A tear dripped down her cheek. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "My baby girl. I can't open it. I can't see her. Please take it away."

Jessica hastily picked up the album.

"The other one, too," Lana said. "I don't want those memories. I'm married to someone else now."

"What about Blake?" Sean asked. "Would he want the albums to show to his kids one day?"

"Blake doesn't talk about Stacy either."

He wondered if that was because Blake didn't want to upset his mother. "Would you mind if I asked Blake?"

"I'll ask him, but later. He's happy now. He's caught up in his wedding plans. I don't want to take him back to that unhappy time in our lives. Could you hang on to the albums for a while?"

"Sure," Jessica said. "It's going to take me a while to go through Helen's things, so I can tuck these away for a few months." She paused. "There may be other things in the house that belong to you. Helen didn't throw anything away after she moved in. The neighbors told me they offered to help her clear things out, but she always turned them down and said she wasn't ready."

Lana straightened in her chair. "What neighbors?"

"Sally Watson and Brett Murphy." Jessica answered.

"They both still live there?"

Jessica nodded. "Yes."

Lana didn't look happy about that fact. Sean wondered why. "I'm surprised you didn't keep in touch with them," he said. "I thought you were all good friends."

"I thought so, too. Don't get involved with either of them," Lana said. "Trust me, you'll be better off." She got to her feet. "I don't want anything in the house. Throw it away. I don't care."

"But you do want me to hang on to the albums until you speak to Blake?" Jessica asked.

Lana hesitated.

"Stacy put that album together," Sean interjected. "She picked the pictures that meant something to her. It's her life. It was too short, but it's still important. I know it hurts to remember, but don't we owe it to her not to forget?"

Her lip trembled. "You must think I'm a terrible person."

"I think you're in pain."

"Because it's my fault that she's dead."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She drew in a breath. "Never mind. Keep the albums for me, and give me your phone number. I'll talk to Blake, and I'll let you know."

"All right." Sean gave Lana his phone number and then he and Jessica walked out to the van. He got inside but made no attempt to start the engine.

Jessica turned sideways in her seat. "Are you okay?" she asked, worry in her eyes.

"That was rough."

"Did it feel good to apologize?"

"That part did feel good. I never had a chance to face her until now. I'm sure I saw her at the funeral, but we didn’t speak."

"Your father kept her away."

"Yeah, go figure."

"Did you get any of the answers you wanted regarding the fire?"

"Some, but now I have more questions. Like why did she say it was her fault?"

"She probably felt guilty because she wasn't at home. When Kyle was kidnapped, I blamed myself for sending him to the birthday party alone even though he was going to be well supervised by other people, or at least that's what I believed. Obviously, he wasn't that well supervised. Anyway, Lana has probably gone over that night in her head a million times. She was on a field trip with her other child, right? Maybe she thinks if she hadn't gone on the field trip, hadn't sent Stacy to your house, hadn't gotten home later than she anticipated, everything would be different."

"You're probably right. I don't know why I keep trying to make an accident into something else."

"You're looking for a reason for Stacy to be dead, but there may not be one." Jessica paused. "I will say though that Lana's comments about Helen have made me wonder if I've completely misjudged the woman. I thought she was a sweet lady, but Lana makes her out to be a bitch."

"And what about Lana's warning not to get involved with the neighbors?" he said.

"That was weird," Jessica said with a sigh. "I wish she would have explained. It's those kinds of statements that keep making us think there's more to the fire than what we know."

"Right?" he asked, seeing the agreement in her eyes.

"Yes. I feel like everyone we speak to has a secret."

"And we don't know if it's the same secret."

"No, we don't. However, I don't believe we're going to get anything else from Lana," Jessica said, glancing back at the townhouse. "I'm not sure you'll ever hear from her again."

"Maybe not. Or perhaps she'll talk to Blake and he'll want the albums."

"It would be interesting to talk to Blake."

"I doubt he would have any information. He was six years old at the time of the fire. He probably only knows what his mother told him, and I don't think she told him anything."

"So what now? Shall we head back to San Francisco?"

He hesitated, not quite ready to focus on the long drive. "It's early. How about some lunch?"

"I could eat. Do you want me to look up restaurants on my phone?"

"I have a better idea. How do you feel about a picnic on the beach? It's a little cold, but I could use some fresh air.

"That sounds perfect. Let's do it."

They stopped at a deli a few miles away and picked up sandwiches, chips, drinks and cookies for dessert. Fifteen minutes later, Sean unzipped one of the sleeping bags from the van and spread it out on a wide sandy beach.

"The sleeping bag does come in handy," Jessica said with a smile.

"More times than you know, and most occasions don't involve sex," he said with a grin. "I know I let you think that earlier, but I'm usually in the bag alone."

"What about Mary Lynn from Nashville?"

"She was one exception, but that was a few sleeping bags ago."

"So why did you lie? You didn't want to ruin your rock star image?"

He gave an unrepentant shrug. "I knew what you wanted to hear."

"I didn't want to hear that," she protested.

"Sure you did. You wanted another reminder that I'm not someone you should be interested in. But then you couldn't stop thinking about having sex with me in the sleeping bag," he teased.

She wished she could say he was wrong. "You think you know everything."

"I think I'm getting to know you."

"Let's just eat," she said, thinking that the beautiful deserted beach and the cozy blanket were setting the scene for something a little more exciting than lunch. But she could exercise some self-control, couldn't she?

She knelt down on the blanket and started unpacking their lunch.

"We certainly got a lot of food," she said, handing him his turkey and cranberry sandwich. She pulled out the chips, salads and cookies and put them on the blanket between them, then settled in to unwrap her baguette with turkey and veggies.

"It's good," Sean said a moment later.

It was good. Not only the food, but also the entire scene. There was not another soul on the beach, which probably wasn't unusual for a Tuesday morning in February. But it was a beautiful day, the sun rising high overhead, white puffy clouds dotting the bright blue sky, a light breeze bringing in the salty smell of the nearby sea. The waves were gentle and rolling, adding to the restful atmosphere. She felt more relaxed than she had in a very long time.

"That hit the spot," Sean said, crumpling up his empty wrapper.

"That was fast."

"I grew up in a family with eight kids. If you didn't eat fast, you went hungry."

"I can't see Lynda allowing that to happen," she said dryly.

"Okay, the truth is I skipped breakfast."

"The most important meal of the day?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I'm not usually awake for breakfast."

"I used to be like that," she said as she finished her own sandwich. "Late nights dancing led to late mornings. It seems like a million years ago that I was living in a one-bedroom apartment with two other girls, Marley and Fran. Marley and I shared the bedroom, and Fran slept on the pullout couch in the living room. We shared one very small bathroom and if you were the last one into the shower, you could expect only cold water." She smiled to herself, thinking that despite having no money, those days had been fun, too. "Marley was a dancer. We were in a lot of the same shows together. Fran was a blackjack dealer. We all worked late nights, so breakfast was usually around noon."

"Do you keep in touch with them?"

"Texts and emails, the occasional phone call. I have to admit I pulled away first. I married Travis and pretty much ditched everything in my life. I don't know why I thought I had to make such a clean break. I guess I was a little defensive about my Las Vegas background when I got to Angel's Bay. When Travis's mother heard I was a dancer, she immediately thought stripper. There's nothing wrong with stripping, but I didn't do that. I think I tried too hard to erase that part of my life just so I would fit in better." She sighed, feeling a little sad. "I really liked those girls. I'm sure I probably hurt their feelings. I feel badly about it all."

"Maybe you can reconnect."

"I've been thinking about it," she admitted.

"Don't just think about it, do it."

"I'm not sure how receptive they'll be."

"Only one way to find out." He paused. "Getting back to Angel's Bay, you should never feel you have to apologize for who you are or try to be someone else. You accused me of that last night, saying I always try to play the bad guy, the black sheep of the family. Well, maybe you've tried too hard to be the good girl."

He wasn't wrong. "So, you're giving me a taste of my own medicine," she said lightly.

He grinned. "How's it going down?"

"A little bitter," she admitted.

He stretched out on his side, propping his head up with his hand as he gazed at her. "Tell me more about Vegas. Where did you dance?"

"Everywhere. There are shows at all the venues now. I'm good at acrobatics, which is a big part of many of the productions. And I don't mind spinning on a wire a few hundred feet in the air, so I never had much trouble getting work."

Surprise filled his eyes. "I had no idea you were so fearless."

"When I'm in a show, flying in a harness, I'm playing a character, and I want to bring that character to life, so I can be brave. I know they're not going to let me fall. Real life tends to be far more scary."

"I get that. When I'm on stage, it feels like another world."

"A world you command. You're a natural performer, Sean. You come to life under the lights."

"Apparently, so do you. I'd like to see that sometime."

"I doubt that will happen. My acrobatic days are over, and that's okay. I developed those skills because they were marketable, but my first love for dance is ballet, then comes lyrical and contemporary routines." She paused. "Actually, I love it all."

"That's why you need to be involved with dance again, either as a dancer or as a teacher."

"I need to make sure that I'm a good mom first. It's the one role I don't want to screw up. I owe that to Travis."

"You're a great mom. Kyle is happy. You need to make yourself happy, too. That's what you owe to Travis."

She stared at him, searching for the right words. "Sometimes I'm afraid to dream again."

"Why?"

"Because I dreamed of love, marriage, family, and I got all that, and then it got ripped away. It was hard to go through that pain. I don't know if I could do it again. Loving someone is a huge risk, even bigger now because Kyle is part of the picture. I have to protect not only myself but also him. I have to be careful. I can't get things wrong."

"You're tying yourself up in knots, Jess. Do you want to spend your life being too afraid to make a move because it might be the wrong move?"

"I know that sounds boring, but it's smart. It's safe. It's what I need to do."

He shook his head with a frown. "It's not you. You're creative and passionate. And you want to fly. I know you do. You just told me how fearless you were."

"On stage, not in real life," she said, feeling a little desperate to convince him, because his words were making her restless, making her want to believe that maybe he was right.

"In real life, too. You're the girl who met a man, got married and changed her whole life for love."

"And look how that turned out?"

"Not because you were wrong, because there was an accident. You can't let fear stop you from living. I know it's easy to say and harder to do. But you have to try. You're too young to stop dreaming. You deserve to have everything you want."