Emily's Daughter

SHE SPENT LONGER at the hospital than she’d planned, and barely had enough time to shower and change. She went through her closet repeatedly before she decided what to wear. For someone who was seeing Jackson only once and only to hear about the past, she was a little too excited, too eager. She tried to curb those feelings, without success. She felt seventeen again and she knew that tonight was a bad decision, but it was too late to do anything about it. Or was it? She could just not show up and let him get a taste of what it was like to wait for someone who was never coming. Oh, yeah, that would be sweet revenge. She chewed on her lip and had to admit she wasn’t out for revenge. She’d gotten beyond that, thank God. Now she just needed answers…about the past.

She gazed at herself in the mirror. She had on a pale pink vest with turned-up collar and a long maroon skirt that whispered around her ankles. Her dark hair hung loose to her shoulders and her makeup was simple—some mascara and liner, a slick of lip gloss. With her olive complexion she didn’t wear much, but in the evenings a little helped. At least it eased the tiredness in her eyes.

Noticing the clock, she realized she had to hurry. She slipped on a pair of sling-back heels and headed for the door. Traffic was a nightmare, as always, but she made it on time. Jackson was already there and she was shown to his table. The restaurant, which was unfamiliar to her, was small, but had a warm, pleasant atmosphere with its linen tablecloths, candlelight and soft music. Wine bottles and glasses seemed to be everywhere, and green plants adorned the nooks and crannies.

Jackson stood as she reached the table. She saw that he too, had changed. He now had on a dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt that emphasized his lean good looks.

He smiled, taking in her new appearance. For a moment he was speechless. He had known the young, enticing Emily, and today he’d met the professional Emily, but now he was staring at Emily, the woman. Wow was all he could think. She was dressed to perfection; even her makeup was flawless. He remembered she’d rarely worn it back then. With her coloring she didn’t need adornment, but tonight it was perfect, setting off her beautiful face and dark eyes.

Those glorious eyes—he never tired of gazing into them. They used to be tantalizing and bright, but now they held shadows, shadows he knew nothing about. Maybe her life hadn’t been all that rosy. His certainly hadn’t. A lot of things had happened in the intervening years…. But none of them would be discussed tonight. They—

He pulled himself up short. He was reacting as if he and Emily had a future. After tonight they’d probably never see each other again. Somehow he didn’t feel good about that.

He wanted to tell her why he hadn’t come back and she wanted to listen. He was aware that she had ambivalent feelings about him and, if nothing else, he had to set the record straight. She still might not understand, but at least she’d know the truth.

“I ordered wine,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure,” she answered as the waiter handed her a menu.

She inhaled deeply, trying to gather enough strength to get through this.

Jackson approved the wine, and the waiter poured it into glasses that sparkled in the candlelight. “Are you ready to order, Mr. Talbert?”

Jackson put down his menu. “House salad and linguine for me, Carlo, as always, but the lady might need a moment.”

“No, no,” she said promptly. “I’ll have the green salad—vinaigrette on the side. Roasted garlic chicken breast with pasta—no sauce.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter responded, then took their menus and walked away.

Jackson stared at her. “You eat healthy, don’t you?”

She folded her hands in her lap. “I try.”

He leaned back in his chair. “A doctor, Emily. You made that dream come true. I bet your parents are proud.”

She took a sip of wine. “Yes, my mother loves telling people about her daughter, the doctor.”

“Having met your mother, I can imagine that.”

She tilted the glass to her lips once again. She’d talked endlessly about her mother to Jackson. She’d confided her innermost secrets, her struggle with her mother’s pregnancy, her strict morals and unreasonable discipline. Jackson knew all about her problems with Rose, but he didn’t know the worst part.

“Evidently you didn’t go into your father’s hardware business,” she said, deftly changing the subject.

“No,” he murmured, “I didn’t. That’s what I—”

Before he could tell her anything, their salads arrived and conversation was interrupted.

Sprinkling vinaigrette over hers, Emily asked, “Do you come to Houston often?”

“Maybe once a month. We have a lot of customers here. Our new program cuts down on work, and on the expenditure of time and money. It’s been very successful and it keeps me traveling.”

“Everyone at the office is raving about the program you installed for us.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You haven’t tried it?”

She glanced up. “No, but I will. I just hate taking time away from my patients to learn technical things.”

He leaned toward her, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It’ll make your life so much easier. Simply by hitting a key, you can pull up a patient’s history, his drug chart, his last visit, your recommendations and diagnoses. Then you speak into a headphone to update any chart. The computer will recognize your voice. This will save tremendously on paperwork. The hardest part is getting all the information into the computer and keeping it current, but I’m sure you have people to do that.”

She was mesmerized by the glow in his eyes, which clearly revealed how much he loved his work.

The waiter removed their salads and their food was brought out.

They ate in silence for a while, then Jackson asked, “How’s your chicken?”

“Fine,” she replied, swallowing a bite. The food was delicious and she was hungry. Having skipped lunch, she was very conscious of that.

“Next time you should try the linguine. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten,” he said.

Next time. There would be no next time. At least not with Jackson.

He asked if she wanted dessert and she refused, but asked for another glass of wine. She felt she needed it.

Jackson twisted his wineglass, watching her, and his thoughts drifted. He was seeing Emily on the beach with nothing but the moonlight on her soft, smooth skin. So many things about her surfaced—things he’d thought he’d forgotten. Her uninhibited smile, her sharp intelligence and the incredible beauty she was so unaware of.

His gaze heated her senses and she rushed into speech. “You were going to tell me why you didn’t come back.”

Engrossed in his memories, he was startled for a second. He took a deep breath and tried to find the words. “When I left Rockport that winter, I was unsure about my life,” he began slowly. “My parents were pressuring me to come into the hardware business, while I wanted to go out on my own and start a computer company. I had a friend who was interested in the same thing.”

“You told me that years ago,” she reminded him.

His eyes caught hers. “Yes, I told you a lot of things about myself.”

She looked away and carefully placed her napkin on the table. “We both did that.”

“Two kids eager to become adults,” he sighed.

“You were an adult,” she said. “I was the kid.”

“I guess you were,” he admitted, feeling guilty because he’d taken advantage of her young spirit. “But you were so delightful, so—”

She cut in. “Why didn’t you go into your father’s hardware business?”

He studied her for a moment, then answered, “The decision was made for me.”

Her eyes didn’t waver. “By whom?”

“My parents.”