What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(91)

Mrs. Bridges lowered her volume as if someone might overhear. “Sweetie, I know it’s none of my business, but what about Jason Redlander?”

Laurel shrugged. “Jase is gone. Every time he looked at me, he saw Daddy.”

“But Laurel, your father was more than just the worst part of himself. I’m not excusing what he did to those boys—it was unforgivable. But we should also remember all the good things he did.”

“Jase didn’t feel that way.”

Mrs. Bridges opened the tan envelope. “I have a little gift for you before you leave. It’s a collection of photographs from when you and Sarah were little. Our families had such a good time together.” She pulled out a picture. “Here you two are at the third-grade Christmas program. Remember?”

Laurel nodded. “Sarah and I wore dresses exactly alike and told everyone we were identical twins. We didn’t understand that meant we had to look alike too.”

Mrs. Bridges laughed. “Our little princesses,” she said, spreading the photos out on the table. “I had copies made of all our pictures that have you or your parents in them.” She pulled a larger photograph out of the pile. “Look at this one. We’re in our backyard for Fourth of July.”

Laurel’s heart lurched as she picked up the photo Mrs. Bridges had laid in front of her. How happy Mama looked. And Daddy, usually so serious, had a wide smile on his face.

The two families always celebrated the Fourth with a barbecue in the Bridgeses’ backyard. Sarah’s father tended to the cooking while Daddy set up the fireworks. One year a Roman candle had landed on the Bridgeses’ roof. Mama and Mrs. Bridges screamed, and then Daddy carried the garden hose up a ladder to put out the fire.

It was the best Fourth of July ever.

“I’ll take them with me, Mrs. Bridges,” she said, sweeping the photos back into the envelope. “And thank you.”

Marilyn Bridges had given her father back to her—the best of him.

*



Laurel turned off the last air conditioner. The taxi she’d ordered from Waco would be here at two o’clock to take her to the airport.

Too bad she couldn’t drive to Brownsville, but her little Escort needed extensive engine work before she could have driven it all the way to the Valley, so she’d donated it to a charity for children with terminal illnesses.

She’d emptied the refrigerator, the pantry, and the cupboards yesterday afternoon and cleaned the kitchen too, then visited every room in the house for the last time, even the storage area on the third floor behind the bedrooms. She’d expected to give just a quick look-see to her own room, bare to the floorboards now, but the second she’d stepped inside, memories of Jase flooded her mind.

Jase, sprawled naked on her bed and looking up at her with his dazzling smile and wicked eyes. Would she ever get over him?

She glanced at the bulging carry-on and the two wheeled suitcases she’d placed beside the front door. Hugo’s travel kennel, the biggest one Walmart had in stock, rested beside them. Everything else—her books, the rest of her clothes—should have reached Brownsville yesterday.

Looking around the foyer, she suppressed a shiver. The house had become a stranger to her. Even the piano, which she’d had tuned last week, seemed to have developed an eerie echo.

Did she hear a car turn into the driveway? Looking out a front window, she saw a red Mercedes come to a halt halfway up the drive. A flame-haired woman got out of it.

Sarah!

Laurel raced to the door with an excited Hugo right behind her. “Your mother didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“She didn’t know. I wanted it to be a surprise, and Mom tells all. Now call off your monster dog, unlock the frickin’ screen, and let me in.”

“Drama queen! As if you’re afraid of Hugo!”

Sarah patted the big dog’s head as she entered, and received a frantic tail wag in response. “I would be if I were up to no good. I think he’s twice as big as when you got him.”

“He eats like a horse.”

“Good thing you’ve got a new job, then.” She caught Laurel in a quick embrace. “Nearly didn’t make it. The maid ran late, Keith got called in for emergency surgery, and the traffic was hell. Had to get these to you, though.” She handed Laurel a tinfoil package. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. The airlines don’t serve anything but peanuts anymore.”

Laurel laughed and unrolled the tinfoil enough to peek at the cookies.

“I’m not sure they’ll last until I board.” Delivering herself from temptation, she stuffed the package in the top of her carry-on. “Come into the kitchen and sit down. I can’t feed you anything, but the refrigerator still makes ice cubes.”

“Cold water sounds perfect.” Sarah led the way down the hall and took a seat at the oak table while Laurel filled two paper cups from the faucet, then added ice.

Sarah guzzled her water, sighed, and leaned back against the chair. “How have things been going lately? Like with the good citizens of Bosque Bend?”

“You wouldn’t believe it, but my relationship with the town seems to be a lot better now that they all know I’m leaving. On the other hand, Pendleton Swaim keeps trying to get in touch with me about the Kinkaid genealogy, probably for his new book about Garner’s Crossing—as if I’d help with that—and I seem to have acquired a shadow.” Laurel swirled her ice in the cup and took another sip. “His name is Craig Freiberg, and he shows up wherever I go.”