Part 13 (1/2)
”I do, but first let me make sure there's nothing I can do to help Miss Laurel in the kitchen.”
Amanda walked into the room and rolled her eyes. ”You might want to wait a minute. They're kissing.”
”Kissing?” squealed Sophia. She turned to Jackson. ”Can I see?”
He pushed her gently back down on the couch. ”No, Miss Nosey, you cannot see. When people kiss, they don't want an audience.”
”Did you ever kiss my mommy in the kitchen?”
The smile on his face grew. ”That's for me to know, and you to find out.”
”Oh, Daddy, I hate when you say that.”
Laurel came into the room. ”Hey, Jackson. I didn't hear you come in.”
Amanda giggled. ”Yeah, we know.”
Sophia ran over to her. ”Miss Laurel, were you kissing Mr. Colton in there?”
Laurel grinned. ”Yes, I was. He kind of expects that when he gets home.”
Sophia's face clouded over. ”My daddy doesn't have anyone to kiss him when he gets home.”
”Of course I do, pumpkin,” Jackson answered. ”I have you.”
”That's not the same.”
He crouched down in front of her. ”It's not the same, but it's just as nice. Here, I'll show you.” He leaned closer and kissed her cheek.
She giggled. ”Daddy, your face is all scratchy.”
Jackson stood up, shaking his head slowly. ”I guess that means you won't let me kiss you anymore.”
Sophia peeped at him through her hair, something he remembered Hannah doing. ”Yes, I will. I like it.”
”Then everything is fine, and we can eat dinner. Go wash your hands.”
After Sophia had gone with Amanda into the hall bathroom, Laurel put her hand on Jackson's arm. ”You handled that beautifully.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ”She's been asking more and more questions about Hannah. I think seeing all the moms at preschool has made her realize what she's missing.”
”That's natural, Jackson. Children are curious, and they notice everything.”
”I wish...well, I wish things were different. I'm no subst.i.tute for a mother.”
Colton appeared in the doorway. ”Are you flirting with my wife again?”
Jackson laughed. ”Wouldn't do me a bit of good. Laurel is giving me my weekly pep talk.”
”Sorry to interrupt, but the natives are getting restless. I think we should eat.”
Hannah felt only mild remorse as she dropped Mitch.e.l.l off at the airport. He would be upset when he figured out she wasn't coming to San Diego or back to New York for that matter, but she doubted he'd take the trouble to come after her. The happiness she sought with him had been a fantasy, a fiction created and perpetuated in her own mind.
If she hadn't known what it was like to be loved unconditionally, she might have been satisfied with Mitch.e.l.l. But her experience with Jackson taught her the true meaning of love, making it impossible for her to be content with a poor imitation. Her reprehensible treatment of him and Sophia hung about her like a millstone, robbing her of any kind of permanent happiness. She knew there was nothing she could do that would atone for the past.
Three days later she was walking through the air terminal in Atlanta. The sound of people conversing in Southern accents brought tears to her eyes. She was really here! Putting her bags down, she impatiently dabbed at her face with her hands. I can't cry with all this make-up on. I'll have streaks of mascara down to my chin.
She stopped in Macon that evening for dinner. Hannah could remember coming here with her family every year. It was on a Ferris wheel at one of those spring festivals that Mitch.e.l.l kissed her for the first time.
Jackson had never kissed her as a man in love kisses a woman. It was strange how that fact stood out. In all the time they'd been together, he kissed her fingers, her hair and her cheek, but never her lips. Was it because he knew she didn't love him? For all his practicality, Jackson was a romantic. To him, kisses shouldn't be given or taken lightly. They should mean something.
Night had fallen by the time she checked into a hotel on the outskirts of Brunswick. Less than ten miles separated her from Sophia and Jackson. Letting the curtain fall back into place, Hannah turned away from the window. Tomorrow would begin a new chapter; one she hoped would return a small measure of the peace that had eluded her for so long.
Hannah watched from her car as Jackson and Sophia emerged from the house and got into his truck. The sight of them together had a profound effect on her, filling her with both intense wonder and deep regret. The bond between father and daughter was obvious even from a distance; a relations.h.i.+p forged in the aftermath of her departure. She felt like an outsider with no place in their lives.
Even after the truck had driven away, Hannah lingered in her car. Everything had seemed so much clearer in New York. She hadn't expected to be welcomed back with open arms, but in the secret places of her heart, she hoped and believed her return could be of benefit to Sophia. Now she wasn't so sure. Granted, this was a small example on which to judge the situation, but it was enough to flood her mind with doubts. What should she do? Stalk her husband and child like a private investigator until she could convince herself that entering their life had more benefits than drawbacks?
Her position wasn't enviable. Her own choices had forced her into a place where she had no bargaining power and must rely on the generosity of a man who had no reason to believe her. Hannah was wholly dependent on the kindness and integrity of Jackson. What would she say to him? How could she explain in a way that he would understand? And if she did, would he give her a second chance? Or would he turn his back on her as she'd done on him?
One thing was certain; she wouldn't be taking any action today. As she started up the car and drove away, she wished she hadn't given in to the temptation to see them. It would have been better if she'd just contacted Jackson and let things play out from there.
With her plans in disarray, she decided to turn in her rental vehicle and buy a used car. Such a purchase would put a dent in her savings, but in light of her uncertainty regarding her next move, it was a necessity. The faded green Honda she finally settled on was a far cry from the Mercedes she'd driven in New York, but it would get her where she needed to go.
Back in the hotel room she was beginning to hate, she ate the hamburger she'd picked up and counted the money in her purse. She had enough to stay in her present location for another few days. Where she went after that was still uncertain. Shoving the wad of cash back in her wallet, she reached inside the shopping bag next to her.
She ran her hand slowly over the black leather and the s.h.i.+ny gold lettering. Opening the cover, she immediately noticed the stiffness of the pages, so different from the ones in Jackson's Bible. Perhaps in a few years, her pages would be soft and worn from use like his. For some reason that thought made her happy.
Her phone vibrated. Here was the daily text from Mitch.e.l.l. He was less upset by her leaving and more annoyed that she'd taken all her money out of their account. Ignoring his message, she turned to the book of Genesis and started to read.
Just before she fell asleep, she prayed. ”Dear G.o.d, thank You for getting me here safely. Please forgive me for the terrible mistakes I've made and the pain I've caused Jackson and Sophia. For too long I've lived for myself, and it's brought me nothing but trouble. I know I can't fix the past, but from this point forward I want to be the person You want me to be. I can only do that if You help me. Amen.”
Two days later she was no closer to making a decision on when to contact Jackson, but she did find a part-time job at a family-owned donut shop. The pay wasn't great, but she got all the donuts and coffee she wanted. The man who hired her met her at the back door the following morning, a cheerful smile on his face in spite of the early hour.
”Hey, Don.”
”Come on in, Hannah,” he said. ”I'll show you where you can put your things and then we'll get started.”
She followed him down a short hallway and into a tiny office. After putting her purse in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet, she trailed Don to the serving area. He handed her an ap.r.o.n and a cap adorned with the Island Donuts logo. Once she put them on, he started at one end of the counter and worked his way to the other. It didn't take long for Hannah to understand how to operate the commercial coffee makers and check-out registers. After all, she'd worked in a grocery store for three years. Just as they were finis.h.i.+ng, a woman joined them. Don put his arm around the woman's shoulders.
”Hannah, this is Connie. She also happens to be my wife. She'll be working with you this morning. If you have any questions, just ask her.”
”It's nice to meet you, Connie.”
The other woman clicked her long fingernails on the counter and glanced at Don with a teasing smile. ”You never could resist a pretty face, could you?”