Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,86
going on, she should have gone with Pretty Woman. The good-hearted-ho theme would have remained intact.”
Sugar nodded. “You’re right. But that’s not the movie you chose.”
“No.” Lucy looked gleeful. “Sort of keeping the theme but getting away from the super-sex theme. It’s my dream bedroom. My dream life, maybe. Every girl’s dream. And maybe, just maybe, my dream will come true.”
“You want to be an actress?” Sugar asked.
Lucy wagged a finger. “You can’t tease any hints out of me.”
“Well, with all the robin’s egg blue going on, all I can think of is a Disney movie.” Sugar shrugged. “Like The Little Mermaid or something.”
Lucy shook her head. “Forget about it. You’ll never guess.”
Maggie got up. “I have to talk to you. Both of you.”
Sugar looked at Maggie, who no longer had a playful, bemused smile on her face as she’d listened to her daughters’ theories and musings about the Bentley family. Surprised, Sugar realized her mother looked worried.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Sugar asked.
Maggie’s hands worked nervously. “I can’t sit here and talk about Vivian when I’ve been no prize as a mother. God knows we sit around and dissect her behavior, and heaven knows she’s no warm fuzzy, but she’s not the devil, either. And she’s no worse than me.”
“Maggie!” Lucy looked at her mother. “You’re a good mother. You’re a nice person. Everyone loves you.”
Maggie sat down between her daughters, picked up their hands, touching her cheek to each hand. “I’ve been needing to get this off my chest for so long. I hope you’ll still believe the best of me when I tell you this.”
Sugar blinked. “Whatever you have to say isn’t going to change how much we love you, Mom.”
“Exactly.” Lucy kissed Maggie on the cheek.
Maggie released their hands. She drew a deep breath. “You probably don’t remember much about my second husband.”
Sugar stiffened. She remembered.
But she wasn’t about to say anything. Her blood ran cold inside her, her own guilt bothering her. She couldn’t take it if Maggie made some confession that she’d never gotten over the man. Shithead was lucky he’d escaped with his head still on his body. Sugar looked at a barn wall, focused her attention on her mother’s pain.
“I don’t remember a whole lot about him,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”
“You were pretty young, not even a teenager,” Maggie said. “Sugar probably remembers him a little more.”
Sugar met her mother’s gaze. She didn’t say a word.
“I’m so sorry, Sugar,” Maggie said. “I was in the hall that night. I heard what you did.”
Sugar’s body went completely stiff. She couldn’t move.
“And I thank you for what you did,” Maggie continued, touching Sugar’s cheek. “I’m just so sorry I wasn’t a better mother. I’m sorry you had to fight that battle alone. But thank you for being so brave.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Lucy demanded.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sugar quickly said, protective of Lucy.
“It matters,” Maggie said softly, “because you’ve borne everything ever since then.”
“My God, will someone tell me what’s going on?” Lucy demanded.
“I had no idea, Sugar,” Maggie said. “I’m ashamed to say that. But I really didn’t. It wasn’t a case of ignoring clues or anything. I sincerely didn’t know he was…a pervert.” Maggie’s eyes glimmered with distress. “I’ve wondered for years how I could tell you that I was sorry. But I didn’t know how to say it. It’s not easy to speak up and admit you’ve been harboring some kind of monster.”
“My God,” Lucy said, “will someone please tell me what the hell happened? Who the hell was a pervert?”
Sugar put her arms around her mother. “It wasn’t your fault, Mom. He was a worm. And you deserved so much better.”
“Jesus,” Lucy said, “are you talking about our stepfather? Was he a pervert?”
Maggie nodded, turning to face Lucy, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I am so sorry.”
Lucy shook her head. “Don’t be sorry to me. Nobody ever molested me. I can assure you, I was a virgin until Bobby German got in my— I mean—” She cut herself off. “I mean, I was never molested. I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
Maggie turned to Sugar. Sugar’s heart spiraled at the pain in her mother’s eyes. “Let it go, Maggie,” she said. “Lucy doesn’t remember. She was sound asleep.”
“Lucy doesn’t remember what?” Lucy demanded. “I can remember numbers from ten years ago and can memorize four pages of text without missing a word. What doesn’t Lucy remember?”
Maggie held her daughters’ hands again. “My husband went into your bedroom one