Heart of Stone

“Blew what?” Laurel came sauntering into the room, the sullen look on her face indicating that her mother had messed up on several things.

Surprised by this unexpected visit, Tara smiled. “Nothing for you to worry about, honey.”

Laurel plopped down on a gold brocade chaise longue set before the sliding door leading out to the pool.

“What’s up with you?” Tara asked, cautious to not sound too eager.

“I want to go to a concert in Savannah tomorrow night. All my friends are going. Will you take me?”

“What kind of concert?” Tara asked, the price of the ticket already adding up in her brain. The ticket, a new outfit, food. The sum kept silently increasing.

Laurel twisted the strands of a tiny braid she’d worn on one side of her temple all summer, while the rest of her long hair hung down her back. “It’s a new alternative rock band. They’re awesome. Can I go, please?”

Tara ignored the pain pounding in her head. “What’s the name of this awesome new band?”

“The Grass Snakes,” Laurel said, hopping up, her hands in the air. “Their latest single—‘Out to Get You, Girl’—it’s number one this week. I’ll just die if I can’t go, Mom.”

Already, Tara didn’t like the tone of this conversation. “And what is the rating on their latest CD?”

Laurel rolled her eyes, her heavily ringed fingers still threading through her braid. “What’s that matter? I like them. C’mon, Mom, don’t be such a drag.”

“I’m not being a drag,” Tara replied, familiar with this conversation. “I’m being a responsible mother. And until I find out what kind of music this awesome new Snake band is playing and if it’s suitable for you, I can’t agree to let you go to this concert.”

Laurel’s oval face flushed with anger. “You are so lame! Since when did you start being responsible, anyway?”

Hurt by the rage spewing out of her daughter, Tara could only stare. When she finally found her voice, she asked, “What does that mean, Laurel? I’m your mother. I’m trying to do what I think is best.”

“Yeah, right,” Laurel shouted, her hands on her hip-hugger jeans. “Now, Mom. Now you’re trying to do the right thing. Now that Dad is gone and you’ve finally realized you have a family—”

At Tara’s shocked gasp, Laurel stopped, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, never mind. It’s a dumb band, anyway. I’ll just sit at home and mope, the way you do!”

With that, Laurel marched to the door, only to run smack into Tara’s mother, Peggy.

“Whoa,” Peggy said, her hands reaching up to steady Laurel. “Where are you going?” Seeing the look on Tara’s face, she held Laurel with her hands on the girl’s slender arms. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s her!” Laurel said, jerking away to point at Tara. “She’s decided to be a real mom, only it’s too late for that now.”

Peggy watched as her granddaughter charged down the hall and up the stairs to her room on the second floor, then she turned to Tara as they both heard the door slamming shut. “I thought things were getting better between you two.”

“Me, too,” Tara said, slinking down on the bed. Her voice shaky, she said, “We had such a good talk a few weeks ago, you know, after she ran away with Cal Ashworth.”

Peggy sat down next to her. “Honey, they didn’t run away. They just fell asleep on the beach.”

“Yes, and caused Ana to worry and then hurt her ankle looking for them.”

“But…as you said, you worked through that.”

“I thought we worked through it,” Tara said, looking at her mother’s comforting face. Ana looked like their mother. They both had auburn hair and green eyes, whereas Tara took after their father, blonde and blue eyed. “At times, we can talk and laugh, at other times, she reverts back to a little she-monster.”

Her mother’s knowing green eyes were appraising her now, in the way only a mother’s could. “What’s wrong this time?”

“She wants to go to some rock concert in Savannah this weekend. I simply wanted to know what kind of songs this bands sings, before I let her go.”

Peggy smiled. “Does that sound familiar?”

Tara nodded, wiped her eyes. “I remember, Mom. My freshman year in high school. I wanted to go see some heavy metal band that was playing in Atlanta, and you refused to even consider it.”

“You pouted for two weeks.”

Tara took her mother’s hand in hers. “Yes, and about a month later, the band broke up. Their fifteen minutes of fame was over.”

“Glad you’re not still pouting,” Peggy said. “Honey, Laurel will be fine. She’s at that age—growing up, hormones going wacky.”

Tara nodded. “Yes, but it’s more than that. She’s still so angry at me…because of Chad’s death.”

“She can’t blame you for that,” Peggy said, frowning. “The man died of a heart attack. Granted, he was way too young, but…you didn’t know. None of us knew how sick Chad was.”

“Tell that to Laurel,” Tara said, getting up to pace around the spacious room. “Mom, she heard us fighting the night before he died.”

“Oh, my,” Peggy said, a hand playing through her clipped hair. “Have you talked to her about this?”

“I’ve tried. We talked a little about it after…after I realized how much Laurel was hurting, and I thought we were making progress. Rock’s been counseling her about forgiveness, and letting go of her anger.”

Peggy’s expression was full of understanding. “Well, maybe this outburst is just because you won’t let her go to the concert.”

Tara shook her head. “You heard what she said. Laurel doesn’t believe I’m a good mother. And maybe she’s right.”

“No,” Peggy replied, coming to stand by her. “You have always been a good mother. You know, we all slip up now and again. The important thing is to not keep making the same mistakes. I don’t think you’re going to let anything come between you and your children, ever again.”

“No, I’m not,” Tara said, wishing she could tell her mother all of her worries. But then, her mother would just worry right along with her, and she didn’t want that. “Thanks, Mom,” she said instead. “I’m so glad you and Daddy decided to spend this week here.”

“Me, too, honey.” Peggy gave her a quick hug, then said, “Oh, by the way, Ana called earlier while you were out. She invited us to come to the island Saturday. The church is having a picnic on the grounds. Some sort of anniversary celebration.”

Tara groaned. “Oh, yes. The church is 230 years old. Can you imagine that? I’d forgotten all about the celebration.”

“Amanda wants to go,” Peggy said, her hand on the door. “And I think Marybeth does, too.”

“But I bet Laurel won’t like it, as compared to going to a concert in the city.”

“Cal will be there,” Peggy pointed out. “You might try reminding her of that.”

“Good idea,” Tara replied. “And a good reason to keep her from attending that concert.”

And a good reason for Tara not to dwell all weekend on why Stone Dempsey hadn’t returned her phone calls.

“She’s called twice today, Stone.”

“Let her keep calling,” Stone replied, his gaze scanning the computer screen in front of him. “That land’s not going anywhere.”