hard. To see her sister have that, while she didn’t.”
“Yeah. And because it was, for the most part, only Mac at home, Linda expected, demanded, used. It’s her way. She married again. Every time she married, they moved to another house, another neighborhood. Another school for Mac. Linda pulled Mac out of the academy when she divorced her third husband. Then put her back in, briefly, a couple of years later because, it turned out, she was involved with a man—a married one—on the board of directors.”
“No stability, ever. Nothing she could count on,” Carter murmured.
Parker sighed. “All of her life, Mac’s had her mother weeping on her shoulder over some slight, some broken heart, some trouble. Linda was raised to believe herself the center of the universe, and she did her best to raise Mac to believe it, too. She’s a strong woman, our Mac. Smart, self-reliant, brilliant at what she does. But this vulnerable spot is like an aching wound. Linda continually yanks the scab off. She grew up with callousness, and fears being callous.”
“She doesn’t trust us, because nothing in her life has ever given her the foundation to trust.”
“You do listen. That was one of the first things she told me about you. I’m going to give you an advantage, Carter, another thing she wouldn’t thank me for. I’m giving it to you because I love her.”
“I could use one.”
Parker reached out to lay her hand over his on the table. “I’ve never seen her the way she is with you, not with anyone else. I’ve never seen her care, so much. Because of that, what she has with you, what she’s finding with you, scares her.”
“I’ve figured some of that, at least the scared part. As someone who loves her, what would you advise me to do?”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Parker said with a smile. “Give her a little space, a little time—but not too much. And don’t give up on her. The only constants in her life have been me and my family, Emma and Laurel. She needs you.”
“I can’t give up on her,” Carter said simply. “I’ve been waiting for her most of my life.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NEITHER THE CAR NOR HER MOTHER SHOWED ON MONDAY. ON Tuesday, when her patience ran thin, Mac’s calls to her mother’s house and cell went directly to voice mail.
By Wednesday, she actively entertained the thought of reporting her car stolen. But then she’d just have to bail her mother out of jail.
So she went over to the main house to mooch breakfast.
“Parker’s on an emergency house call. Saturday’s bride woke up with a zit or something. Emma’s waiting on an early delivery, so it’s just you and me.”
“Does that mean there won’t be pancakes?”
“I don’t have time for pancakes—and God, I wish Mrs. G would shake off the island sand and get home. I’ve got to make foliage and flowers. Have a muffin.”
“Did Parker have any idea when she’d get back?”
Laurel glanced up, stopped rolling out her flower paste. “Your car’s not back?”
“Both it and Linda are MIA. I’ve left a dozen messages. Her ears are going to bleed and fall off when she gets them. I threatened to report it stolen.”
“Do it. There’s the phone.”
“I’ll probably be arrested for sheer stupidity for giving her the keys. I’m going to go by her place. I have another shoot, and I need to pick up some custom paper that wasn’t ready Monday. And I think I want some shoes.”
“Haven’t heard from Carter?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re going to buy shoes, which is comfort food for you. Have you called him?”
“To say what? I’m sorry? I already said that. I was wrong? I was, I know I was wrong, but it doesn’t change what I feel.”
“Which is?”
“Confused, afraid, stupid. Double all of that because I miss seeing him,” she admitted. “I miss talking to him. So I think it’s better if I don’t see him or talk to him.”
“Your logic doesn’t resemble the logic of humans.”
“He probably doesn’t want to see or talk to me anyway.”
“Coward.”
“Maybe. I’m a coward without a car.” She waited in silence while Laurel rolled out her paste. “You could lend me yours.”
“I could. But that would be enabling, which is what you continue to do with Linda. I love you too much to do that.”
“It’s not enabling. It’s business. I could cram my equipment into her ridiculous little toy, but funny, she left the car and not the keys. It’s not the client’s