A Mother's Homecoming(21)



“That’s not a good idea.” She’d already started shaking her head before he even finished the sentence. “You know it’s not. My meeting her can’t be what you want.”

Hell no. Sitting there in jeans and a flowy, printed blouse with short sleeves and a square neckline, strands of her blond hair dancing in the breeze, Pam looked harmless enough. Cute, even. But he knew firsthand the kind of destructive force she could be. He’d held her, crying in his arms, on more than one occasion after her own mother had wreaked emotional destruction on her. He’d be damned if he would let Pam wound Faith like that, which was why he’d argued with his daughter for an hour. Eventually, though, his little girl had convinced him that never meeting Pam, never looking her in the eye, might actually hurt more in the long run than anything Pam could say to her. He’d reluctantly agreed to plead Faith’s case, but he couldn’t pretend he’d be completely broken up if Pam said no and bailed on them.

Again.

Nick sighed. “It’s not about what I want. She’s a young woman and she deserves a mother.” He held up a hand, forestalling the obvious objections in Pam’s eyes. “But she’s never really going to have that. So the least you could do for her is to meet her, let her see who she comes from. Maybe even give her a few answers. Is that really asking so much?”

Fear radiated from her, taking him aback. He’d fallen in love with an ambitious, bold girl. Even when he’d seen her cry, the tears had stemmed as much from frustration and anger as vulnerability. Yet from the moment the doctors had placed Faith in Pam’s arms at the hospital, panic had become her default setting. Was the unnatural terror really so strong, almost thirteen years later, that she’d deny a blameless girl?

“I’m sure I’m coming across as some sort of evil villain,” Pam huffed, her normally melodious drawl a harsh mutation of itself. “But I’m thinking of her more than me.”

“Bullshit. Do not hide behind that. You don’t know her well enough to know what’s best for her.”

Pam stood so abruptly that she flung the rocking chair into motion, pitching wildly back and forth. “I know what a train wreck I am! You haven’t seen me in years, Nick. I could have a police record. Or split personalities!”

That would explain a lot.

“I can’t be a mother,” she insisted. “I can’t even be a short-term role model.”

“So be a cautionary tale,” he snapped. “Whatever. You’re placing too much importance on yourself. Let me bring her to you on neutral ground some afternoon before you leave Mimosa. Granny K’s for milk shakes, half an hour, something like that. I don’t think that in thirty minutes, you’re going to warp a beautiful, intelligent young woman. She needs this closure. Don’t be the what-if in her life, Pamela Jo. Don’t be the hole inside her that she walks around with for years to come.”

Unwillingly he remembered the first few days after Pam had left him. He hadn’t even been truly upset for the initial seventy-two hours because he’d known her abandonment wasn’t real. She’d had some postpartum hormone surge, he’d reasoned, temporary insanity. She’d be back. They belonged together. But when he’d realized … That cold, empty place she’d left in his life might have healed, but it had never completely warmed again. Not even when he married Jenna.

She’d called him on that when they fought over the affair, telling him that maybe deep down she’d wanted revenge because she felt as if he’d always kept part of himself from her.

Nick was never getting married again. My taste in women sucks.

“I’ll think about it,” Pam said. “But standing on my aunt’s porch bullying me isn’t going to get you the result you want any faster. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting.”

“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to be in such a hurry to get rid of Dawn.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t feel such a pressing need to go to a meeting when she was here, either.”

He leaned in closer, studying her as intently as a forensics investigator seeking clues. She swallowed, shuffling back a little, although the rocker left her nowhere to go.

“You’re serious,” he decided. Despite her matter-of-fact tone, there was a barely banked urgency in her shifting eyes. “What kind of meeting?”

“AA. I scoped out times and places online, just in case.” She gave a short bark of laughter. “Turns out the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I’m Mae’s daughter through and through.”

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