Unfinished Business - Nora Roberts Page 0,15
for a daughter-in-law. More than once she said to me, ‘Ham, that’s the girl for Brady. She’ll straighten him out.’ ”
“It looks like he’s straightened himself out.”
“Mostly.” Draping an arm over her shoulder, he led her inside. “How about a nice cup of tea and a piece of pie?”
“I’d love it.”
She sat at the kitchen table while he brewed and served. The house hadn’t changed on the inside, either. It was still neat as a pin. It was polished and scrubbed, with Emily’s collection of knickknacks on every flat surface.
The sunny kitchen looked out over the backyard, with its big trees leafing and its spring bulbs blooming. To the right was the door that led to the offices. The only change she saw was the addition of a complicated phone and intercom system.
“Mrs. Leary still makes the best pies in town.” He cut thick slabs of chocolate meringue.
“And she still pays you in baked goods.”
“Worth their weight in gold.” With a contented sigh, he sat across from her. “I guess I don’t have to tell you how proud we all are of you.”
She shook her head. “I wish I could have gotten back sooner. I didn’t even know Joanie was married. And the baby.” She lifted her teacup, fully comfortable for the first time since her return. “Lara’s beautiful.”
“Smart, too.” He winked. “Of course, I might be a tad prejudiced, but I can’t remember a smarter child. And I’ve seen my share of them.”
“I hope to see a lot of her while I’m here. Of all of you.”
“We’re hoping you’ll stay a good long time.”
“I don’t know.” She looked down at her tea. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“Your mother hasn’t been able to talk about anything else for weeks.”
Vanessa took a smidgen of the fluffy meringue. “She seems well.”
“She is well. Loretta’s a strong woman. She’s had to be.”
Vanessa looked up again. Because her stomach had begun to jump, she spoke carefully. “I know she’s running an antique shop. It’s hard to imagine her as a businesswoman.”
“It was hard for her to imagine, but she’s doing a good job of it. I know you lost your father a few months ago.”
“Cancer. It was very difficult for him.”
“And for you.”
She moved her shoulders. “There was little I could do … little he would allow me to do. Basically he refused to admit he was ill. He hated weaknesses.”
“I know.” He laid a hand on hers. “I hope you’ve learned to be more tolerant of them.”
He didn’t have to explain. “I don’t hate my mother,” she said with a sigh. “I just don’t know her.”
It was a good answer. One he appreciated. “I do. She’s had a hard life, Van. Any mistakes she made, she’s paid for more times than any one person should have to. She loves you. She always has.”
“Then why did she let me go?”
His heart went out to her, as it always had. “That’s a question you’ll have to ask her yourself. And one she needs to answer.”
With a little sigh, Vanessa sat back. “I always did come to cry on your shoulder.”
“That’s what shoulders are for. Mostly I was vain enough to think I had two daughters.”
“You did.” She blinked the tears away and took a soothing drink of tea. “Dr. Tucker, are you in love with my mother?”
“Yes. Does that upset you?”
“It shouldn’t.”
“But?”
“It’s just that it’s difficult for me to accept. I’ve always had such a clear picture of you and Mrs. Tucker as a set. It was one of my constants. My parents … as unhappy as they were together, for as long as I can remember …”
“Were your parents,” he said quietly. “Another permanent set.”
“Yes.” She relaxed a little, grateful that he understood. “I know that’s not reasonable. It’s not even reality. But …”
“It should be,” he finished for her. “My dear child, there is far too much in life that’s unfair. I had twenty-eight years with Emily, and had planned for twenty-eight more. It wasn’t to be. During the time I had with her, I loved her absolutely. We were lucky enough to grow into people each of us could continue to love. When she died, I thought that a part of my life was over. Your mother was Emily’s closest and dearest friend, and that was how I continued to look at Loretta, for several years. Then she became mine—my closest and dearest friend. I think Emily would have been pleased.”
“You make me feel like a child.”
“You’re always a child when it