Dream 3 - Finding the Dream (22 page)

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With anger and shame snapping at her heart, Ali raced over the lawn, through the arbor of wisteria. Nobody understood her, nobody cared. Those thoughts drummed a miserable beat in her head as she whipped down the stone path through banks of hibiscus and night-blooming jasmine.

She didn't care either, she didn't care about anything or anyone. Nothing could make her care. She burst through arching yews into a sun-dappled alcove with marble benches and a central fountain shaped like spearing calla lilies.

Her headlong rush halted with a skid of her boots on brick. And with shock.

It was her spot, where she came when she needed to be alone. To think, to plan, to sulk. She hadn't known her mother came here too. The cliffs were her mother's special place. Yet her mother was here, sitting on a marble bench. Weeping.

She'd never seen her mother cry, not like this. Not with her hands covering her face, her shoulders heaving. Not such violent, helpless, hopeless tears.

Staggered, she stared, watching the woman she had always believed invincible sobbing as though the well of grief would never run dry.

Because of me, Ali thought as her own breath hitched. Because of me.

"Mama."

Laura's head shot up. She sprang off the bench, fought for control. Lost. Breaking, she sank down again, too tired, too bruised, too shattered to fight.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I just don't know what to do. I can't take anymore."

Panic, shame, emotions she didn't understand spurted so high so fast that Ali was across the bricks and wrapped around her mother before she'd thought to move. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Under the arch, Kayla gripped Michael's hand. "Mama's crying. Mama's crying so hard."

"I know." It destroyed him to see it, to hear it, to know there was nothing he could do to stop it. "It'll be all right, baby." He lifted Kayla up, let her press her face into his shoulder. "They just need to get it out, that's all. Let's leave them alone."

"I don't want her to cry." Kayla sniffled against him as he carried her away.

"Neither do I, but sometimes it helps."

She leaned back, sure that he would hold her. "Do you ever cry sometimes?"

"I do stupid man things instead. Say bad words, break things."

"Does it make you feel better?"

"Mostly."

"Can we go break something now?"

He grinned at her. Lord, what a character. "Sure. Let's go find something good to break. But I get to say all the bad words."

In the alcove, Laura held her daughter close, rocked her.

Comforting, as always, brought comfort. "It's all right, Ali. It's all right."

"Don't hate me."

"I could never hate you. No matter what." She tilted her daughter's tear-streaked face up. Her baby, she thought, swamped with love and guilt and sorrow. Her firstborn. Her treasure. "I love you. Allison, I love you so much, and nothing could ever change that."

"You stopped loving Daddy."

Laura's heart shuddered again. Why did it have to be so hard? "Yes, I did. But that's different, Ali. I know it's hard to understand, but it's so very different."

"I know why he went away." Ali struggled to steady her jaw. She had made her mother cry, and nothing, she knew, nothing she had ever done could be worse. "It was my fault."

"No." With firm hands, Laura cupped Ali's face. "No, it was not your fault."

"It was. He didn't like me. I tried to be good. I wanted to be. I wanted him to stay and to love us, but he didn't want me, so he went away."

Why hadn't she seen this? Laura wondered. Why hadn't the family counselor? Why hadn't anyone seen it? "Ali, that's not true. People get divorced. It's sad and it's sorry, but it happens. Your father and I got divorced because of him and because of me. You know I don't lie to you, Ali."

"Yes, you do."

Stunned, Laura jerked back. "Ali?"

"You don't lie, exactly, but you make excuses, and that's the same." She bit her lip, terrified that her mother would cry again. But she had to say it. "You always made excuses for him. You'd say he wanted to come to the recital, but he had an important meeting. He wanted to go with us to the movies, or the zoo, or anyplace, but he had work. But it wasn't true. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to go with me."

Oh, dear God, how could protecting your child cause so much damage? "It wasn't because of you. Not because of you, Ali, or because of Kayla. I promise you that's not true."

"He doesn't love me."

How could she answer? What was right? Praying that whatever words she chose would be best, she stroked Ali's tumbled hair. "It might be hard for you to understand this, but some people aren't cut out to be parents. Maybe they'd like to be, or they want to be, but they just can't. Your father never meant to hurt you or Kayla."

Ali shook her head slowly. "He doesn't love me." She said it quietly. "Or Kayla. Or you."

"If he doesn't love you in the way you wish he did, it isn't your fault. It's nothing you did. Nothing you are or aren't. It's not his fault either, because—"

"You're making excuses again."

Laura drew back, shut her eyes. "All right, Allison. No excuses."

"Are you sorry you had me?"

Laura's eyes flashed open. "What? Sorry? Oh, Allison." This part, at least, was easy as breathing. "Do you know, when I was a girl, hardly older than you, I used to dream that I would fall in love one day, and get married. I'd have a home, and beautiful children to fill it. I'd watch them grow."

Her lips curved now as she stroked the hair away from her daughter's damp cheeks. "Not all of that dream worked out the way I thought it would, but the best part did. The best part of the dream, and the best part of my life, is you, and it's Kayla. Nothing in the world could be truer than that."

Ali knuckled a tear from her cheek. "I didn't mean those things I said."

"I know."

"I said them because I knew you would never go away. No matter what, you'd never go away."

"That's right." Smiling, Laura flicked a finger down Ali's cheek. "You're stuck with me."

"I felt bad, and I wanted it to be your fault." She had to swallow before she could speak again. "Did he go to bed with another woman?"

Just when you thought it was safe, Laura thought with a jolt. "Where did you hear a thing like that?"

"At school." The flush rose up into Ali's cheeks, but she kept her eyes steady. "Some of the older girls talked about it."

"That's nothing you—or the older girls—should be talking about."

Ali's mouth firmed. "He did." She nodded and, leaving a small, lovely part of her childhood on the bench, rose. "That was wrong. He hurt you, and you made him go away."

"There were a lot of reasons I asked for a divorce, Ali." Tread carefully, Laura warned herself, even as her heart was breaking to see that too-adult look in her baby's eyes. "None of them is appropriate for you or your friends to discuss."

"I'm talking to you, Mama," Ali said so simply that Laura had no response. "It wasn't my fault," she continued. "It wasn't your fault, either. It was his fault."

"No, it wasn't your fault. But two people make a marriage, Ali. And two people break it."

No, Ali thought, studying her mother. Not always. "Did you go to bed with another man?"

"No, of course not—" Laura stopped herself, appalled that she was discussing her sex life with a ten-year-old. "Allison, that question is completely inappropriate."

"Cheating is inappropriate, too."

Weary again, Laura rubbed her brow. "You're too young to judge, Ali."

"Does that mean it's all right to cheat sometimes?"

Trapped. Trapped by the unbending logic and admirable values of a ten-year-old girl. "All right—no, it's not."

"He took our money, too, didn't he?"

"Oh, good God." Laura rose. "Gossip isn't attractive, and it's irrelevant."

She understood now, Ali thought, understood the titters from other girls, the murmured conversations of adults.

And all the pitying glances. "That's why you had to go to work."

"Money is not an issue here." She refused to let it be. "I went to work because I wanted to. I opened the shop because I wanted to. Templeton Hotels has always been part of my life. So have Margo and Kate. Working is sometimes hard, and it's sometimes tiring. But it makes me feel good, and I'm good at it."

She took a breath, struggled for the right angle. "You know how you're tired after a long rehearsal for a recital? But you love it, and when you've done well, when you know you've done well, you feel strong and happy."

"That's not an excuse?"

"No." Laura's lips curved again. "It's not an excuse. Fact is, I'm seriously considering asking my boss at the hotel for a raise. I'm damned good."

"Granddad would give you one."

"Templetons don't pull rank."

"Can I come with you to the hotel one day and watch you work? I like going to the shop, but I've never gone to your other office."

"I'd like that." She stepped forward, brushed a hand over Ali's hair. "It's never too soon to start training the next generation in the Templeton organization."

Settled again, AH rested her head on her mother's breast. "I love you, Mama."

It had been, Laura thought, much too long since she'd heard those words. There were birds singing in the garden, she realized. And the little fountain was playing musically. The air was soft, and her child was in her arms.

Everything would be all right.

"I love you, Ali."

"I won't sass you anymore, or be a brat or say things to make you cry."

Of course you will, Laura thought, settling herself. You're growing up. "And I'll try not to make excuses."

Smiling, Ali lifted her head. "But I'm still not going to like Mrs. Litchfield, and I'm never, ever going to call her mama."

"Oh, I think I can live with that." Eyes gleaming wickedly, Laura bent down. Woman to woman. "I'll tell you something, just between you and me. I don't like her either." She traced her finger over Ali's lips when they bowed up. "Are we better now?"

"Uh-huh. Mama, everyone said our home was broken, but they were wrong. It's not broken at all."

Laura tucked her daughter under her arm and looked across the gardens to Templeton House. "No, it's not. We're not. We're just fine, Ali."

It wasn't an easy thing for a young girl with a great deal of pride to take the first step. Though it had troubled her, and kept her awake a long time during the night, Ali hadn't told her mother what Michael had said to her. Or how it had made her feel.

She wasn't sure what her mother would have done, or said, but she did know when you'd done something wrong, you were supposed to fix it.

She'd gotten up early and dressed for school, then slipped out the side door to avoid any questions. Old Joe was here this morning, humming to his azaleas. Ali cautiously skirted that section of the garden and made her way toward the stables.

She had her speech all worked out, and she was very proud of it. She thought it was mature, dignified, and clever. She was certain that Mr. Fury would nod wisely, impressed, after she was done.

She stopped for a moment to watch the horses he'd let out into the paddock. He would be cleaning the stalls, then. She tried not to pout as she watched Tess and thought about what it was like to ride her and brush her and feed her apples.

Her mother might have evaded the subject of money, but Ali knew, with her new wisdom, that buying and keeping a horse would strain the budget.

Besides, she didn't intend to ask Mr. Fury for anything.

He had yelled at her, scolded her, threatened to spank her. That was simply not permitted.

And all the pitying glances. "That's why you had to go to work."

"Money is not an issue here." She refused to let it be. "I went to work because I wanted to. I opened the shop because I wanted to. Templeton Hotels has always been part of my life. So have Margo and Kate. Working is sometimes hard, and it's sometimes tiring. But it makes me feel good, and I'm good at it."

She took a breath, struggled for the right angle. "You know how you're tired after a long rehearsal for a recital? But you love it, and when you've done well, when you know you've done well, you feel strong and happy."

"That's not an excuse?"

"No." Laura's lips curved again. "It's not an excuse. Fact is, I'm seriously considering asking my boss at the hotel for a raise. I'm damned good."

"Granddad would give you one."

"Templetons don't pull rank."

"Can I come with you to the hotel one day and watch you work? I like going to the shop, but I've never gone to your other office."

"I'd like that." She stepped forward, brushed a hand over Ali's hair. "It's never too soon to start training the next generation in the Templeton organization."

Settled again, AH rested her head on her mother's breast. "I love you, Mama."

It had been, Laura thought, much too long since she'd heard those words. There were birds singing in the garden, she realized. And the little fountain was playing musically. The air was soft, and her child was in her arms.

Everything would be all right.

"I love you, Ali."

"I won't sass you anymore, or be a brat or say things to make you cry."

Of course you will, Laura thought, settling herself. You're growing up. "And I'll try not to make excuses."

Smiling, Ali lifted her head. "But I'm still not going to like Mrs. Litchfield, and I'm never, ever going to call her mama."

"Oh, I think I can live with that." Eyes gleaming wickedly, Laura bent down. Woman to woman. "I'll tell you something, just between you and me. I don't like her either." She traced her finger over Ali's lips when they bowed up. "Are we better now?"

"Uh-huh. Mama, everyone said our home was broken, but they were wrong. It's not broken at all."

Laura tucked her daughter under her arm and looked across the gardens to Templeton House. "No, it's not. We're not. We're just fine, Ali."

It wasn't an easy thing for a young girl with a great deal of pride to take the first step. Though it had troubled her, and kept her awake a long time during the night, Ali hadn't told her mother what Michael had said to her. Or how it had made her feel.