Pulling Home (25 page)

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Authors: Mary Campisi

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Family Life, #Family & Relationships, #Death; Grief; Bereavement, #Love & Romance

BOOK: Pulling Home
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savor memories of her grandmother in the kitchen baking bread and making pasta or in her rocking chair praying to her saints. Audra didn’t have to pretend to want to visit her mother anymore.

She found Corrine’s headstone, faded and plain. How disappointed her mother

would be to have been relegated to such a drab spot. Beside her rested Grandma Lenore and Grandpa Carmine, a man Audra never knew, in equally small, equally nondescript headstones with identical inscriptions. “Who were you really, Corrine?” The breeze carried her whispered words spinning and swirling through the cemetery.

She tried to conjure happy memories with her mother but they were punctured

with bad ones. How could she forget her thirteenth birthday? It started out with a
Wake
up, Birthday Girl
, from Corrine, which in itself was a present, followed by thirteen pink balloons, and poached eggs on toast, another present since her mother didn’t cook. She had the whole day planned for her birthday girl.
You’re a woman now
, she’d said and in keeping with that newly elevated status, she’d chosen an array of womanly activities—a lavender bubble bath, painted nails, lessons on makeup application, and a pluck by pluck demonstration on tweezing eyebrows. They’d made it through the bath and nails and Corrine had tweezed one of Audra’s eyebrows when the call came. Audra heard the deep voice on the other end of the line, saw her mother’s face pink up, her full lips curve in a slow smile as she played with the string of fake pearls around her neck. When the call ended, so did the birthday celebration. Corrine checked her makeup in the oval mirror, patted her hair and grabbed a cashmere jacket. Then she was gone, leaving Audra with a tray of Maybelline and one plucked eyebrow.

That’s when she realized the disappointments would never end. There would

always be another man, another more important engagement. She stopped expecting

anything from Corrine Valentine, a woman who might have birthed her but was not a mother, a fact Corrine must have realized long before the rest of them did.

But Audra
was
a mother and she’d do anything for her daughter, including exposing a married man with children who could be the lost father she never knew. If only Pastor Richot would tell her more.

She said a quick prayer and began the search for Christian’s grave. He would

have loved the location, if one could love a burial site. It sat on a grassy knoll surrounded by brilliant clusters of potted geraniums and alyssum. Even in death, the Wheytons claimed superiority over the Valentines. The long rectangle of new grass covered the earth in a thick carpet of green velvet, so alluring Audra was tempted to curl up on this soft bed and let her worries flow into the earth.

The sparkling white granite stone fit Christian.
Loving son, father, husband. You
left us too soon
. “Oh, Christian, what have we done?” What had seemed so logical, so right nine years ago, now teetered under the deceit and hurt they’d caused in the name of self-preservation.

“Audra.”

At first, she thought she’d imagined Jack’s voice, carried to her heart by longing and memory. She could tell him she didn’t care, pretend she didn’t want to see him again, but he lived in a corner of her heart, breathed her breath, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Audra. Are you all right?”

She turned then. He stood several feet from her, sunglasses shielding his eyes,

dark hair lifted by the late afternoon breeze.

“Jack.” Was that a breathy voice? Could he tell?

He stepped closer. “Do you need time alone? I can come back later.”

The gentleness of his tone smothered her. “No. No, that’s fine. You can stay.”

Three more steps and he was beside her, the scent of his cologne filling her, his presence both calming and exhilarating. She turned away and settled her gaze on the headstone, particularly the word
husband
.

“He was a great man.”

“Yes, he was,” she murmured, remembering his easy smile, his steady

temperament, his rich laugh.

“And a great brother.”

“He said the same about you.”
On the less than ten occasions when I actually
permitted him to talk about you.

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“He always looked forward to coming back here.” Maybe each time he’d hoped

the trip would mend the unspoken rift between himself and Jack.

“Not you though, right?” He was staring at his brother’s headstone, his expression fierce.

“No. Not me.”

“Was he a good husband?”

The question threatened to rupture her composure. “Yes. He was a very good

husband.”

“Good. I’m glad you were happy.”

“Were you really coming back for me?”
Dear God, where had that come from?

He didn’t speak for such a long time she hoped he’d chosen to ignore the

question. “Yes. I really was.”

A deep, slow pain seared her chest, spread to her brain. Their lives might have

been so different if only he’d made it back sooner. If only she’d had the courage to tell him the truth.

“I’d like to start seeing Kara.”

He hadn’t attempted to see their daughter since learning he was her father. She’d just begun to relax and now,
bam
, he struck.
Stay cool. Don’t let him know you’re upset.

“How do you see this playing out?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. I just want to get to know her.”

“And Leslie? How does she feel about it?”

“Leslie’s got nothing to do with this. Kara’s my daughter and I want to spend time with her.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He faced her and yanked off his sunglasses.
“Because she’s my

daughter.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Why couldn’t they spend ten minutes together, at a

cemetery no less, without sparring? “Of course you’ll want to see her but at some point, we both have to resume our lives.”

“I thought we’d done that.”

“This?” She gestured at Christian’s headstone. “Living at your parents’ house,

sleeping in your old bed? That’s not my life, Jack.”

“So, make a few modifications. Rent a condo if you don’t want to buy right away.

The Sentinel
is always looking for writers, and you can—”

“Jack, stop. We’re not staying here.”

“It’s that damn doctor, isn’t it?”

A pinch of guilt spread over her face. “No,” she said but he saw through her.

“You’ve got a thing for him, don’t you?” His voice grew louder, angrier. “You

and Dr. Perfection.”

“Peter’s a friend.”

“Right.” He threw her a look of disgust. “Friends with benefits.”

“Stop it.”

“What is it with you? Do you screw every guy you meet or just the ones your

husband trusts?” She raised a hand to slap him but he caught her wrist. “Don’t even think about it.”

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to wrench her hand free, but Jack only clamped

harder.

“Did you cheat on my brother?” He moved closer, his face inches from hers.

Did he really think her capable of such a thing? Obviously, he did. “I never

cheated on Christian.”

He studied her for several more seconds, his silver gaze flitting over every

feature, landing on her lips before he flung her away and spat out, “I think you’re lying.”

She’d had enough of Jack Wheyton and his opinions. “How dare you? I’ve never

been unfaithful to Christian and I was never unfaithful to you. You left me. Remember?”

She ignored the hard set of his jaw, the flaring nostrils that spoke of anger and disgust.

“That has nothing to do with Peter Andellieu.”

“Doesn’t it?” To hell with him. “Maybe you feel guilty because you can’t say the same, can you? You had a girlfriend and you slept with me, didn’t you? You know what I think?” She jabbed her finger in his chest, anger burning through her. “I think if you could, you’d do it again, even with a fiancé who’s wearing a rock the size of your parents’ kitchen table.” He opened his mouth to speak but only silence fell out. “That’s what I thought.” She jammed her sunglasses on her face and marched down the path toward her mother’s grave.

Chapter 28

“Believe in me, please? Can you do that?”—Jack Wheyton

“Thanks for coming out tonight, Audra. I know you might feel awkward,

considering your history with Jack”—Leslie pulled a smile across her lips—“but I want you to know, I’m okay with it.”

Audra dropped a forkful of Eartha’s apple cobbler midway to her mouth. It

clanged on the red Formica table, spewing chunks of apple on Leslie’s left hand. “Oh!

I’m so sorry.” She snatched a napkin from the silver dispenser and dabbed at Leslie’s hand.

“Isn’t this ring the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? Two carats. Marquis

cut. Jack picked it out all by himself.” She sighed and lifted her hand, aiming it at the red-globed light above the table. “Look at the clarity. It’s magnificent.” She tucked her hand against her middle and said, “I can’t wait to be his wife. I’ve been planning the wedding almost since the day I met him. You know how sometimes you just
know
it’s the right one? I felt it from the beginning, this incredible animal magnetism that pulled us together.

It was overpowering.” She smiled and murmured, “We didn’t get out of bed for four days.”

Audra refused to picture
that
. “How lucky for you.”

“It’s not just the sex,” Leslie went on, “though that’s undeniably one of his

favorite pastimes. Being around Jack is like being around a forest fire.” She laughed.

“Constant heat. We’re going to start looking at houses, possibly to renovate. I love Victorians and Jack’s so good with his hands”—again the smile—“and he’s very

creative. Of course, I’ll probably sublet my place and move in with him until after the honeymoon. We’re thinking Spain or Italy, but it depends on his schedule.” She paused and patted Audra’s hand. “Here I am gushing on and on about me. I’m sorry. This is not all about me and my happy day. How are
you
doing?”

Audra avoided her gaze. “Getting by.”

“We all encounter difficult times, but none greater than what the Lord deems us

capable of handling. At least that’s what my father says.” She patted Audra’s hand again.

“Things will get better.”

“Thank you.”

“I just want you to know, I’ll try real hard to be a good stepmother.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Jack told me the truth.”

“What?”

“He told me about Kara.”

Audra fought to keep her breathing even. “I see.” Of course, Jack should tell his fiancé about his child, but on some bizarre level, it felt like a betrayal.

“Jack never wanted children but now he’s all caught up in being a father. He’s so confused. I think the best thing would be for you and Kara to go back to San Diego and move on with your lives. Kara can visit in the summer and on breaks which will give Jack time to ease into the father role. More than that and people will start asking why Uncle Jack is spending so much time with his niece, unless the rumors were true after all.”

“He’s okay with this?” That was hard to believe.

A slow smile slipped across Leslie’s face. “He will be. I can be very persuasive.”

No doubt she could be. But still, this did not sound like Jack’s idea. “He was

pretty insistent about wanting to be part of Kara’s life. I don’t know if he’ll settle for seasonal visits.”

“You let me worry about that, okay? Go back to your sun and the fabulous Dr.

Perfection and I’ll take care of my fiancé.”

***

Kara placed the stamp on the envelope and held it up to her mother. “Is the stamp

even enough?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Betty Crocker Best Bread Contest, here I come.” Kara scooted off the kitchen

chair and headed for the front door. “I’ll put this in the mailbox and then we can make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for Mrs. Kirkshorn’s son.”

Alice laughed and lifted the flour from the cupboard. “Don’t forget the batch you promised Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Grandpa will want his share, too, though Lord knows he doesn’t need any.”

“We can make cookies for everybody!” Kara shouted, waving her hands in the

air, her blond curls bouncing around her shoulders. Holly Springs Elementary school started in six days but if the talk with Jack went well tonight, Kara’s first day would be in San Diego. “Be right back.” She tore out the front door with a skip and a shout.

“You’d never know she just had brain surgery,” Alice said.

Audra nodded. “She’s doing very well.” With the exception of a four-inch scar at the base of her neck, a person wouldn’t know Kara’s whole life had changed from what it had been last summer.

“I’m truly enjoying her company,” Alice said, measuring flour into a bowl. “And

Joe’s certainly thrilled to have a devoted follower. My heavens, some days I wonder if they’ll ever stop discussing that darn soap.”

Audra ventured a smile. “Should I end their guessing and just tell them who the

father is?”

“Oh, no!” Alice smiled in a way that reminded Audra of Christian. “You have no

idea how irate Joe gets when he reads snippets in
Soap Digest
, which he insists on buying and then curses when he figures out the plot. I told him to stay away from those magazines if he doesn’t want someone to spill the beans but I might as well be talking to this cup of flour.”

Alice and Joe Wheyton would miss Kara but they’d still see her on holidays and

summer vacations. Audra had already decided Kara needed time with her grandparents and her father and planned to see that happened. If Jack agreed. Leslie had sounded certain of her persuasive abilities and though Audra didn’t want to know the details behind them, she hoped they worked. Life moved on. Jack was getting married. It was time to go home.

“Audra, will you tell Kara the cookies won’t wait for her? I hear Zak barking and I’ll bet that’s where she is. She wants her own dog you know.”

“I know.” Audra moved toward the front door. “And her own cat, and a guinea

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