Page 164
Garrett had already shown her some pictures. The condo he was going to give her mother was spacious, with a great view of the city at night and a balcony facing the Pacific. In short, it was a miniature version of his penthouse.
“Well, until then, please excuse me for making myself scarce.”
“There aren’t many places to hide here,” she pointed out.
“Which is why I’m going to Stella’s room. Not only do I get to watch our baby sleep, but there’s also the bonus of Mariana not yelling at me infront of her.”
Emma put her hand over her heart as he left. The way he said he’d watch their baby sleep—like it was a privilege—just melted her heart. Also, they were going to give Stella a complex, hovering the way they did.
Yup, therapy was a really good idea.
It had gone quiet outside. Emma glanced out the window, surprised to see that the sheriff was still there. He and her mother were still arguing, but it was now being conducted in voices so low she couldn’t make out a word.
Mariana seemed very calm. It was Sheriff Warner who seemed emotional. And angry.
Then her mother said something that made the sheriff step back.
Mariana turned on her heel and went inside. When she didn’t return to her bedroom, Emma went to find her.
Mariana was in the upstairs bathroom, lying in the tub fully clothed.
Emma sat on the closed toilet. “That bad?” she asked.
Her mother stared straight ahead. “That man shouldn’t have stirred the pot.”
“Garrett is sorry.”
“I meant Jesse.”
Emma had a hard time thinking of that tall bearded man as Jesse.
The sheriff was built like a lumberjack, with pale-brown hair mixed with gold. He had a matching beard that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Viking.
“How did he do that?”
Mariana shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
But Emma had already guessed what had set the sheriff off. “He’s mad because we didn’t tell him about Stella.”
“In part.”
Garrett had told her many people assumed her mother’s long-running affair with Teddy Bronson had led to Stella.
“I’m sorry if the rumors about her parentage stood in the way of your relationship.”
Emma hadn’t realized how sorry she was until this moment.
In her hurt, she’d thought mainly about herself and Stella, what they had missed out on not being able to be mother and daughter. She should have thought about the sacrifices Mariana had made to keep Stella with her.
The financial burden was the most obvious one. But Emma hadn’t considered the ramifications to her mother’s personal life. Why would she? Her mother had kept dating different men. Mariana treated them like interchangeable cogs.
She hated to think that this mess had cost Mariana someone she had genuinely cared for.
But when she said as much to her mother, Mariana laughed, the sound edged with glass.
“Never worry about that, Em,” she said, the look on her face heartbreakingly bleak. “He may be acting like a jackass now, but the fact is Jesse Warner was never a serious prospect. I’m eight years older than him. And even if he’d been ready for the things I wanted with him, he wasn’t about to go there. Not with me.”
She grabbed a small washcloth from the side of the tub. It was stiff, having dried in the shape it had been dropped in, but Mariana didn’t care. It absorbed tears just as well as a freshly laundered one.
“Well, until then, please excuse me for making myself scarce.”
“There aren’t many places to hide here,” she pointed out.
“Which is why I’m going to Stella’s room. Not only do I get to watch our baby sleep, but there’s also the bonus of Mariana not yelling at me infront of her.”
Emma put her hand over her heart as he left. The way he said he’d watch their baby sleep—like it was a privilege—just melted her heart. Also, they were going to give Stella a complex, hovering the way they did.
Yup, therapy was a really good idea.
It had gone quiet outside. Emma glanced out the window, surprised to see that the sheriff was still there. He and her mother were still arguing, but it was now being conducted in voices so low she couldn’t make out a word.
Mariana seemed very calm. It was Sheriff Warner who seemed emotional. And angry.
Then her mother said something that made the sheriff step back.
Mariana turned on her heel and went inside. When she didn’t return to her bedroom, Emma went to find her.
Mariana was in the upstairs bathroom, lying in the tub fully clothed.
Emma sat on the closed toilet. “That bad?” she asked.
Her mother stared straight ahead. “That man shouldn’t have stirred the pot.”
“Garrett is sorry.”
“I meant Jesse.”
Emma had a hard time thinking of that tall bearded man as Jesse.
The sheriff was built like a lumberjack, with pale-brown hair mixed with gold. He had a matching beard that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Viking.
“How did he do that?”
Mariana shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
But Emma had already guessed what had set the sheriff off. “He’s mad because we didn’t tell him about Stella.”
“In part.”
Garrett had told her many people assumed her mother’s long-running affair with Teddy Bronson had led to Stella.
“I’m sorry if the rumors about her parentage stood in the way of your relationship.”
Emma hadn’t realized how sorry she was until this moment.
In her hurt, she’d thought mainly about herself and Stella, what they had missed out on not being able to be mother and daughter. She should have thought about the sacrifices Mariana had made to keep Stella with her.
The financial burden was the most obvious one. But Emma hadn’t considered the ramifications to her mother’s personal life. Why would she? Her mother had kept dating different men. Mariana treated them like interchangeable cogs.
She hated to think that this mess had cost Mariana someone she had genuinely cared for.
But when she said as much to her mother, Mariana laughed, the sound edged with glass.
“Never worry about that, Em,” she said, the look on her face heartbreakingly bleak. “He may be acting like a jackass now, but the fact is Jesse Warner was never a serious prospect. I’m eight years older than him. And even if he’d been ready for the things I wanted with him, he wasn’t about to go there. Not with me.”
She grabbed a small washcloth from the side of the tub. It was stiff, having dried in the shape it had been dropped in, but Mariana didn’t care. It absorbed tears just as well as a freshly laundered one.
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