Angel stood her ground, her colorful Indian cotton skirt flowing around her ankles. “Mock me all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that the time had come to tell you.”
“Fact?” Julia scoffed. “You don’t deal with facts. You deal with fiction. And what did you actually tell me? Only enough to upset me.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“Then what was your intention? Tell me, because I still don’t get it. Did you want to disrupt my life? Make me doubt who I am? Turn my entire world upside down?” Julia fought back the tears to no avail. “Well, congratulations. Mission accomplished. Are you happy now?”
“No.” Angel looked as if she were about to cry as well. “I’m not happy. I deeply regret hurting you. I made a mistake.”
“So now I’m a mistake?”
“No!” Angel vehemently denied. “I meant it was a mistake not to tell you earlier.”
“Yes, it was.” When her mother made no further comment, Julia said, “I’m going upstairs to take a shower.”
As she walked away, Julia noted that this wasn’t the way she’d expected to start the New Year—with an awesome lover, a deceitful mother, and a mystery-man father.
Luke’s motto of “expect the unexpected” was turning out to be the story of her life.
“You’re whistling, man,” Algee told Luke. “What’s up with that? You never whistle.”
Luke reached for a tortilla chip. “Hey, I’m just watching a football game.”
“Since when are you a fan of a college bowl game?”
“You know I like football.”
“I know you’ve got the look of a man who got laid last night.”
Luke glared at him.
Algee shrugged. “Fine. You want to limit the conversation to football, I can do that. Far be it from me to intrude where I’m not wanted.”
“I’m not into locker-room bragging about the women I may or may not have been with.”
“Neither am I. My momma raised me better than that.”
“You never talk about your family.”
“You don’t either,” Algee pointed out.
“I’ve got reasons.”
“My momma raised me on her own in the projects in Chicago. My daddy took off right after I was born. She made sure I stayed out of trouble and got a good education, courtesy of the United States Navy.”
“Ah, so you were a squid.”
“Yeah, and I figure you must have been a jarhead, right?”
Luke nodded. “The few, the proud, the Marines.”
“There’s always been something crazy about jarheads,” Algee stated.
“On the contrary. There’s something crazy about squids, cooped up in a boat all day, away from all the action.”
“Totally inaccurate. And it’s a ship, not a boat. Hey, that was out of bounds!” Algee yelled at the screen, almost upsetting the huge bowl of popcorn he’d made in the process. “Are you blind? That catch was totally out of bounds! Did you see that?” he asked Luke.
“I was reaching for a nacho.”
“That’s the problem with life, man. It happens while you’re getting distracted by a nacho.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I mean look how that librarian got to you. Like a stealth weapon, she flew right under your defenses.”
“You trying to write a romance novel or something?”
Algee tugged on the diamond stud earring he’d gotten since they last time they were together. “I’ve read a few. Some of ’em aren’t bad.”
Luke held up his hands as if warding off evil cooties. “Don’t give me any.”
“Why? Because you’re living the studly life?”
“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
“And we know what a perfect gentleman you are,” Algee scoffed.
“Hey, I was polite to those nuns,” Luke reminded him. “Even moved furniture for them.”
“Yeah, right. A prince among men, that’s you.”
Luke threw a tortilla chip at him. “Just watch the game.”
“I will. But you better watch yourself, or you’ll be married and settled down before you know what hit you.”
“Not in this lifetime,” Luke stated emphatically.
“Julia!” Bang, bang, bang on her bedroom door. “Read to me!” Toni shouted.
She reluctantly undid the lock.
“Here.” Toni shoved the book Julia had gotten her for Christmas at her. “Read to me.”
Julia looked down at the title.
Are You My Momma, Llama?
The story, about wondering who your parent was, struck a little too close to home for her at the moment. “How about I read you something else?” Julia suggested. “One of the
Olivia
stories or . . .”
“No, I want this one!” Toni pointed to the book for extra emphasis, her tiny finger tapping the cover, before she climbed up onto Julia’s bed.
Toni had removed her Wellington boots in the house, which was a good thing. And she wasn’t wearing her tiara today. In fact, she was dressed rather normally for a change and was even wearing the top with the kitty on it Julia had gotten her a few weeks ago.
Looking at her little niece, who was rather adorable sitting on her bed, Julia suddenly wondered what it would be like to have a child of her own. Sitting beside Toni, Julia felt her heart melt when the normally mischievous child suddenly leaned her head against her and hugged her.
“I missed you today,” Toni told her.
Julia was stunned. “You did?”
Toni nodded.
“But you don’t miss me when I go to work at the library, do you?”
“Sometimes.”
“You never told me so.”
“I never told you about the kitten I want, either. I asked Santa, even though he doesn’t pay his elves. But my kitten didn’t come.” She lifted her head and stared at Julia with such big sorrowful eyes that Julia wanted to rush right out and get her a kitten immediately.
The intensity of her emotions gripped Julia by the throat and left her momentarily speechless.
Toni had no such trouble. “Maybe the Easter bunny will bring my kitten. The Easter bunny doesn’t have elves. Danny next door says there is no Easter bunny, but I don’t believe him. He’s a capitalist pig.”
The ultimate insult. Skye and Angel had taught her well. But Angel claimed that Julia’s father was a capitalist pig.
“Do you believe in the Easter bunny?” Toni demanded.
Julia didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.” Toni patted her cheek reassuringly. “You know lots of other stuff. You’re smart.”
“You think so?”
Toni nodded. “You can even read the big words.”
Julia might be able to do that, but she sure couldn’t make sense out of the mess her life was in right now.
Gazing down at Toni, Julia wondered—if she had a child with Luke, would she lie and not tell him?
So many questions, so few answers.
Angel sat beneath the big pine tree in the town square . . . as close to it as she could get on the bench beside it. There was snow on the ground, so she’d had to make do with the bench.
Angel remembered how as a child Julia had always wanted snow during the holiday season. She used to draw picture after picture of snowflakes. She was fascinated with the white stuff.
Angel stared up at the pine tree. They were supposed to interact with the human energy in a cleansing way, drawing off negative emotions. Especially guilt.
And Angel was certainly feeling plenty of that. Guilt. Eating away at her. She’d hurt her daughter. Hurt her deeply.
Was Julia right? Had she been selfish to tell her?
“Happy New Year,” Tyler said quietly.
She hadn’t even heard him approach.
“Mind if I join you?” He pointed to the bench.
She waited until he sat beside her before blurting out, “You know that secret I had? It didn’t work out.”
“What didn’t?”
“Telling the truth. Julia hates me now.”
“I doubt that.”
“You shouldn’t. I’m telling you the truth.” Angel paused to smile with sad self-mockery. “I always prided myself on telling the truth, on living a truthful life. My daughter knew that, and I think it made this all harder for her to accept.”
“Whatever you two argued about, you’ll make it up.”
Angel shook her head. “I don’t think so. I hurt her to the soul of her being.”
“I can’t imagine you hurting anyone.”
“I try not to, but in this case . . .” She wiped away a tear. “I haven’t been a good mother to her. I should have done better. Should have told her the truth about her father.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I just told my oldest daughter that the man she thought was her father wasn’t really. He died in South America when she was nine.”
“Her father?”
“No, the man she
thought
was her father. Her biological father is still alive.”
“Who is he?”
“You have a strange look on your face. Are you worried I’m going to tell you that you have a daughter, that you’re her father?”
“Trust me, I would have remembered if you and I had met before.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“That’s nice of you to say. You’re not Julia’s father, although I wouldn’t mind if you were. That would be convenient, huh? Julia knows you, likes you. But maybe it wouldn’t have been convenient for you. Maybe you already have kids.”
Tyler didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, her father isn’t someone like you. I wish he were, but he’s not.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s a corporate capitalist. Rich, of course.”
“And you’ve kept his daughter from him all these years because of that?”
Angel wrapped her arms around herself defensively. “He would have been a bad influence on her. He cheated on me and walked away from our relationship without ever looking back.”
“Who is he?”
Angel shook her head. “I don’t want to say, because I don’t want her to know.”
“But you know?”
“Yes, although I haven’t had contact with him in thirty years. But I did see his picture in the paper recently.”
“How recently?”
“Right before I came here in October.”
“Why was he in the paper?”
“He was closing some big deal, merging two companies together and putting lots of people out of work. He’s my worst nightmare.”
“Why?”
“Because he has the money to take my daughter away from me.”
“Doesn’t he have a family of his own?”
She shook her head. “He’s been married twice but has no kids.”
“Julia is an adult. Why would he try to take her from you?”
“You’re asking me logical questions, and I don’t deal well with logic.” Her voice reflected her agitation. “I’m telling you how I
feel
, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want her knowing who he is,” Angel continued. “I should never have said anything. She was right when she said I was only telling her now to get rid of some of the guilt I was feeling. That I didn’t think about how she’d feel with all this dumped on her. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” Angel jumped up from the bench. “Maybe I should leave. She’s going to want me to leave.” She looked around. “But where would I go?”
“Calm down.” Tyler tugged her back down onto the bench. “Don’t make assumptions.”
“Maybe if I were a better mother . . . Wait, I could do that. I could become more the kind of mother she always wanted. Maybe that would make it up to her.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“More conservative. More normal. I could do that. How hard can it be? I could wear khakis and polo shirts with little logos and get my fingernails manicured. I could fit in instead of always standing out. Don’t you think?”
“You’re a free spirit. You were meant to stand out.”
“Not if it hurts my daughter,” Angel said fiercely. “I’ve already hurt her enough. I’ve got to make it up to her somehow.”
“Maybe the best way to do that is to tell her the name of her father.”
“No.” She nervously fingered her hand-knit scarf. “That’s the one thing I
can’t
do.”
“She’s going to find out on her own.”
“How can she do that? I didn’t tell her much, just his first name.”
“And where you met?”
“At a party. That’s nothing . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I may have mentioned us taking an Ethics class together at UCLA.”
“That could give her a lead.”
“What can I do?”
“Tell her everything.”
“No, I can’t. I’m too much of a coward to do that. He’ll take her away, show her that world and—”
“She’s not a kid anymore. She’s capable of making her own decisions.”
“I know she is. She’d love him more than me,” Angel whispered.
“She doesn’t even know him.”
“But she’s like him in small ways. Planning ahead. Never letting go and letting fate take you where it will.”
“Most people are that way.”
“I know. But I didn’t raise Julia to be
most people
. I raised her to be my daughter.
Mine
,” Angel said fiercely, “and no one else’s!”
“The time may have come for you to share.”
“He’ll hurt her. I know he will. I’ve seen it in the runes, in the tarot cards, in every medium I’ve used.”
“Maybe you’re seeing what you want to see.”
“Why would I want to see my daughter hurt?”
“Because it gives you a good reason to keep her from her father.”
“I don’t need more reasons. I need to think like Julia. I need to have a plan. I need to become the mother she’s always wanted.”
“You think transforming yourself into June Cleaver is going to solve your problems?”
“No, but it certainly can’t hurt.”
“Lies hurt.”
“So does the truth,” Angel noted sadly.
Julia had never really understood that reference to ignoring the elephant in the middle of the room until now. For the past week, Angel had been acting as if nothing had changed. No, that wasn’t true. She was trying to be on her best behavior. She’d traded in her colorful billowing clothes for tailored khaki pants and bland tops. But she refused to give Julia the information she wanted—the name of her father.