Blinding Rain, Season 2, Episode 7 (Rising Storm) (5 page)

Lacey sighed. Yeah, they were really the picture of the perfect family these days, weren’t they?

After her sister Sara Jane had come home from her trip to the florist with their mother and told Lacey what had happened, Lacey had decided enough was enough. If their parents wanted to ignore each other, fine, but it was way past time they stopped ignoring Lacey.

She glanced toward Sara Jane, seated beside her on the love seat. Sara Jane lifted her brows and shrugged, telling Lacey she felt just as frustrated. Lacey drew in a breath and looked at both her parents again. “Thanks for sitting down with us,” she started. “It’s been forever since we had a Salt family meeting.”

It had been forever—since before Jacob’s death. Lacey pushed that thought aside and sat up straighter. “Sara Jane and I want to talk to both of you about how things are going here at home. We know you’re both dealing with your grief in different ways but”—she glanced at her sister, and when Sara Jane nodded, she said—“we want you to remember that you have two other children who are still alive.”

Lacey’s father tensed even more but he didn’t speak. Lacey didn’t think it was possible but her mother seemed to sink further into the couch cushions. “We know that, dear,” her mother said softly.

Lacey nearly huffed. They had a funny way of showing it. “Yeah, see”—she scratched the back of her head—“we don’t think you do.” She glanced toward her mother. “Hiding in your bedroom doesn’t make me or Sara Jane feel like you know we’re around.” She looked toward her father. “Neither does working twenty-four seven.”

“That is entirely unfair,” her father finally said in a harsh voice. “I’m working to provide for you, Lacey. You make it sound as if I’m working to escape from this family.”

Wasn’t he?

“What Lacey is trying to say,” Sara Jane piped in, “is that neither of you is here for her. Throwing money at her doesn’t make her feel valued as your daughter. I should know, Daddy. You’ve been doing it to me lately as well. I might not live here anymore but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed what’s going on. Upgrading my cell phone was very nice of you, but instead of a new phone, I’d rather have you around for Sunday dinners or to go out to the range and hit a bucket of balls with me on a Saturday afternoon. All the things you used to do before Jacob died.”

Their father pursed his lips and sat back in his chair, clearly irritated.

Lacey sighed, sensing they were getting nowhere. And the way her parents wouldn’t even acknowledge each other sent a ripple of worry down her spine. “We’re not trying to tell you you’re bad parents—”

“Sounds like you are,” their father muttered.

Lacey ignored that comment. “We’re just trying to tell you that we realize neither of you are acting normal. I wasn’t acting normal either for a while and it didn’t help me move on or ease the pain of losing Jacob. We’re all hurting because of that. And although we understand our new normal without Jacob is going to be very different from our old normal, we”—she glanced at Sara Jane again for encouragement—“both feel it’s time we all started acting like a family again instead of this...fractured household.”

Neither of their parents looked at them. Their mother continued to study her hands and their father stared down at a spot on the carpet. Any hope Lacey’d had about this family meeting fixing things took a serious nosedive.

Sara Jane frowned. “Lacey’s right. And both of you could learn something from her. It took a lot of maturity for her to realize acting out after Jacob’s death wasn’t doing anything to help her grief.” She glanced Lacey’s way. “I’m proud of you, baby sister.”

Lacey’s cheeks heated. She had a lot of regret over the things she’d done after Jacob’s death, but hearing Sara Jane say she was proud of her filled her with warmth. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“As for you two.” Sara Jane looked back at their parents. “I’m not proud of either of you. It’s been months since Jacob’s death and you’re both still acting like it just happened.”

Their father’s jaw clenched down hard and his enraged eyes shot their way. “What would you have us do? Act like it didn’t happen? You both have no idea what it’s like to lose a child.”

“No, we don’t,” Sara Jane said. “We only know what it’s like to lose a brother. And what it’s like to lose both our parents. You both have pulled away from us. And while we’ve been sympathetic to it until now, we’re not anymore. It’s time you both started acting like the parents you are.”

“And,” Lacey cut in before either could respond, “it’s time you both put aside your feud with Ginny Moreno.” When her mother’s wide eyes shot to Lacey’s face, Lacey said, “I know what happened at the flower shop today. Sara Jane told me. You had the chance to do the right thing, Mom, but you didn’t.”

“That girl—”

“What happened at the flower shop?” Their father sat forward, his brows drawn low, showing interest in the conversation for the first time since they’d started.

“Mom and I went to buy flowers for Aunt Payton and we ran into Ginny there. She was chatting with Kristin. I would have pulled Mom out of there if I’d known Ginny was there, but by the time I spotted her it was too late. Instead of being civil, Mom actually accused Ginny of being happy Aunt Payton and Uncle Sebastian separated.”

Their father huffed and sank back into his seat. “I’m sure she is.”

Lacey’d had enough. She pushed to her feet, unable to sit still any longer. “That’s what I’m talking about. Whether or not you both want to admit it, there is still a chance Ginny’s carrying your grandchild, but you’re both so hellbent on punishing her that you can’t even act like human beings. She made a mistake, but so did Uncle Sebastian, only I don’t see either of you vilifying him. I was plenty mad at her too, but I know how grief can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do. Yes, she lied to us, but she didn’t do it to be mean. She did it because she cared about Jacob and all of us. You’ve both treated her like a daughter her whole life, only now when she really needs someone you’re acting like she’s the devil. Well, you know what? I’ve told plenty of lies over the last few months. I hurt people just like Ginny did. If you’re going to treat her like garbage then you better treat me the same way.”

Their father’s face turned red, but he didn’t speak. Across the room, their mother sighed and lifted her gaze. “Lacey, dear. What you did is very different from what Ginny did.”

“You’re right. It is. I told lies because I was hurting and I wanted others to hurt too. Ginny lied because she knew what she’d done was wrong and she was trying to protect you from more hurt. And because she wanted to give you both something to live for after you lost Jacob.”

Their parents were both silent, and Lacey looked from one to the other, willing them to speak. At her side, Sara Jane placed a hand on Lacey’s arm, and when Lacey looked down at her sister she saw the compassion in her sister’s eyes and more pride.

Their father pushed out of his chair, his face still red and angry. “You all believe what you want to believe. I need some air.”

He stalked out of the room without another word. And feeling like a failure, Lacey sank back on the love seat next to Sara Jane. Seconds later the front door opened and slammed shut.

Yep, the picture of the perfect family. Their dad couldn’t even stay in the same room with them. He was always walking out. Lacey’s gaze shot toward the entryway where he’d just left, and that shiver of unease turned to a warning all across her skin. Something was going on with him. Something more than just his grief over losing a child. Lacey wasn’t sure what it was, but she sensed it was something bad.

“I’m sorry, girls.” Their mother’s soft voice drew Lacey’s attention. “I hear what you’re both saying. It’s just...” Her eyes filled with tears. “All of this is harder than I thought it would be.”

Guilt swamped Lacey for being such a hardass. She looked at her sister, and when Sara Jane nodded, they both rose and moved to the couch to sit on either side of their mother.

“We know, Mom,” Sara Jane said, reaching for Celeste’s hand.

“We definitely know.” Lacey wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulder. “But none of us can go back in time, and maybe...” She gathered her courage. “Maybe the only way we’re all going to get through the pain is to let go of the anger and hurt feelings once and for all. I want that. Sara Jane wants that. I know Ginny wants it too.”

Her mother drew a steadying breath and blinked several times, fighting back her tears. With a shaky hand, she squeezed Lacey’s knee and pressed a kiss to Lacey’s cheek. “You’re a sweet girl, Lacey.” With her other hand, she tightened her fingers around Sara Jane’s hand. “So are you, Sara Jane. I am very lucky to have both of you girls, and I’m sorry I’ve been so useless lately. I’ll try to be better. I can’t make any promises about your father—”

“We know,” Sara Jane said. “We just love you both and want you to be happy.”

“Yeah, we do,” Lacey added.

Celeste’s eyes filled with tears again and she shifted, wrapping both of her thin arms around her girls, pulling them in for a group hug. “I love you both as well. And I couldn’t be more proud of both of you. I know what you did here wasn’t easy, but I’m glad you spoke up. We’ll find a way through this, I promise.”

Celeste kissed both of their heads, and as Lacey laid her cheek on her mother’s breast just as she’d done when she was little, she had hope for the first time in months. Hope that maybe she could get her family back. It would never be the same. They would always miss Jacob, but something in her heart told her their mother had heard what they’d said, not just about their family, but about Ginny as well.

One out of two wasn’t bad. Lacey would just go on hoping her father eventually came around as well.

* * * *

Mary Louise Prager frowned as she walked down Main Street and stared at her phone. She only heard from her father about once a year. Today, obviously, was the day her dear old dad decided to take a break from his guitar and check in on how she was doing. Probably only because the holidays were sneaking up and he felt guilty for being such a slacker parent.

She hit delete on the e-mail and shoved the phone back in her pocket, hating the way that one e-mail could ruin her entire day. She was a grown woman in her thirties, for crying out loud. She’d gotten by just fine without a father all these years. She didn’t need one now.

Trying to push aside the guilt she felt for deleting that e-mail without responding, she rounded the corner toward the Bluebonnet Cafe, but drew to a stop when she spotted Tate Johnson across the street, leaving Cuppa Joe with a box in his hands. Just as he stepped down onto the sidewalk, his brother Tucker, holding Hannah Grossman’s hand, smacked into him, sending the box flying to the concrete.

Both Hannah and Tucker jerked back. Tucker’s shoulders stiffened, and he quickly stepped in front of Hannah. Tate looked up to see who’d hit him, and when he spotted the two, his entire face hardened and shifted from the handsome man she recognized to one who was consumed by rage.

Mary Louise couldn’t hear what the two brothers said to each other as Tucker bent down to pick up Tate’s box, but even from this distance she could see the hard line of Tate’s spine beneath his suit jacket and the slice of steel that was his jaw.

She glanced right and left. A few other people had slowed their steps on the sidewalks and were now staring at the face off happening in broad daylight.

Her pulse sped up, and her skin grew tingly. Tate’s angry words drifted toward her ears, telling her he didn’t realize people were watching. Unable to sit back while he damaged the rest of his political career, she rushed across the street and caught Tate by the arm just as he was moving toward his brother in an aggressive way.

“What the hell?” Tate’s furious eyes darted down at her.

Mary Louise smiled up at him, but quickly shifted her gaze to Tucker and Hannah. “Hey, Tucker, Hannah. Sorry to interrupt. Can I steal Tate away from you for a bit? I’ve been trying to catch him all morning.”

“Tate?” She looked up at the man who made her pulse race and tried like hell to keep it steady, but nothing worked. She hated that he had this effect on her after all this time, especially knowing he only had eyes for the woman across from her who’d chosen his brother. “There’s something I need to talk with you about.”

Tate’s brows drew together to form an adorable crease between his eyes. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now.” She tugged on his arm, desperate to pull him away from what could be an explosive situation. Reaching for the box of pastries from Tucker, she stepped back and drew Tate with her. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

Thankfully, Tate moved with her, stepping away from his brother, but Mary Louise wouldn’t breathe easier until they were on the next block. “What’s in the box?” she asked, still keeping one hand wrapped around his arm as she walked. “Smells good.”

“Cupcakes. Was cupcakes,” he grumbled beside her. “For my staff. What’s so important you had to interrupt me back there?”

Mary Louise pulled him around a corner and spotted Murphy’s Pub down the road. She suddenly felt like having a beer. Or a stiff shot. It was four o’clock on a Thursday, and she was done with work for the day. She had a strong hunch Tate could use one as well, and if he couldn’t, well, she’d force him to have one. Lord knew he needed to chill out a bit before he did something he’d regret.

“I feel like a drink,” she said, pulling him with her toward the pub. “How about you? Wanna get a drink? Because I think we could both totally use a drink right about now.”

“Mary Louise, what the heck is going on? You’re acting like a lunatic.”

She huffed because she was not the one acting like a lunatic. He was.

Reaching the pub, she tugged the door open and pulled him in after her. A quick scan of the bar told her the dinner crowd hadn’t hit yet. With a wave toward Sonya Murphy, standing behind the bar drying out a glass, she headed for an open booth near the back.

“Sit,” she said to Tate, finally letting go of him as she set his cupcake box on the table. “And tell me what you want to drink.”