Читать книгу Then There Were Three - Jeanie London, Jeanie London - Страница 13

EVEN VIOLET WAS A LITTLE rattled by how fast her dad unloaded her. He’d wheeled his unmarked car into a handicap space in front of Angelina’s Hair Salon. She couldn’t figure out why they were here, but was going with the flow. Her hair was a wreck but, come on, even though she hadn’t taken a shower since leaving Chile, it couldn’t be that bad.

Jumping out of the car before her dad had a chance to get her door, she followed him inside. The salon wasn’t very big—only four stations—but it was decorated nice with big windows in the front. There was a lady cutting hair at one station and another shampooing at the sinks in the back.

But it was the woman behind the reception desk who caught Violet’s attention. She was an older lady, but really pretty in an older lady sort of way. Makeup and hair were perfect. Her shirt was summery and bright. She even wore matching earrings and necklace. Very put-together, Mom would have said.

She looked up as they entered, peering over her reading glasses, and said instantly, “Nic, what’s wrong?”

Violet couldn’t see her dad’s face, but he stepped aside, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her next to him.

“This is my daughter.” He blurted it out, drawing the attention of everyone in the place. “Can she stay here for a while? I have to pick up her mother.”

The woman behind the desk blinked. Everyone else was staring, too. Violet felt a little awkward, she wasn’t going to lie.

Her dad didn’t even wait for an answer. He looked at her and said, “This is your grandmother. You’ll be okay here until I get back.” Then he headed toward the door.

“She’s not going to be Mary Sunshine, FYI,” Violet called after him. Only fair to give him a heads-up. Mom was already steaming. Sending him to the airport hadn’t been one of the options in her last text.

“Got it,” he said before walking out.

Violet watched him hop in the car and speed off. “Good luck with that.”

She turned to find the whole place filled with people staring at her. Swallowing hard, she looked at the woman behind the desk.

Her grandmother.

“So, what’s your name, gorgeous?” her grandmother asked.

“Violet.”

“That’s beautiful. Matches your beautiful eyes. So you’re my Nic’s little girl?”

Violet nodded, still kind of embarrassed by the way she got dumped here. “I think I freaked him out when I told him Mom was about to land.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. Big-time, I’ll bet.”

Violet didn’t think that was a bad thing because her grandmother was suddenly smiling. “He’s picking your mother up…at the airport?”

Violet flipped open her phone to check the time. “A flight from Atlanta. She’ll be landing in about ten minutes. Will he get there in time? It shouldn’t be too traffic-y, do you think?”

Her grandmother shook her head, didn’t seem to care that everyone was watching them. “He’ll use his light and siren if he’s in a hurry.”

“Oh, that’s right. He’s the police chief. He can do that.” Violet felt better already. If Mom got off that plane with no one to greet her… That hadn’t been an option, either.

“So you’re from Atlanta?” her grandmother asked.

“No, Chile. There’s a layover in Atlanta.”

Her grandmother looked surprised. “Well, that must be a long flight. And your mother is…?”

“Megan.”

For a moment her grandmother stared, then if possible, her smile grew even bigger. “Megan Bell.”

It wasn’t a question, but Violet nodded anyway.

“Imagine that.” She laughed, a really happy sound. “Well, there’s definitely a story here, Violet, and I want to hear every word.” Popping up from behind the counter, she addressed their audience. “I say we head to the house for lunch, ladies. I’ll whip something up. What do you think?”

She must be a really good cook because everyone liked that idea. The lady at the shampoo bowl said, “I’ll finish here and lock up.”

“Perfect. Lunch will be on the table in thirty minutes. Give or take.” Her grandmother glanced at the hairstylist who stood behind the chair with the scissors still poised over her client’s wet head and said, “Corinne, will you swing by Mauricio’s and pick up some bread?”

“Will do.” Corinne never took her eyes off Violet’s reflection in the mirror. “Want me to cancel your appointments for the rest of the day?”

“You’re a doll,” her grandmother said while circling the desk.

She was a teeny-tiny woman, Violet realized. Even with heels on her sandals, she was barely eye-level with Violet, who wasn’t all that tall herself.

“Are you hungry, gorgeous?”

“Starving,” she admitted.

“Perfect.” Looping their arms together, her grandmother led Violet through the salon. Not toward the front door, but into the back. “I need to let Anthony and Damon know I’m cooking. I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t, and one of them needs to give us a ride home.”

Violet had no idea who Anthony and Damon were and honestly didn’t care. She had a chief dad, a doctor uncle and a really, really cool grandmother.

Did it get any better?

MEGAN WATCHED NIC TOSS his empty cup in the trash, recognizing their interview was over.

“Ready to get Violet?” he asked.

A no-brainer, but Megan nodded, determined to keep things moving as smoothly as possible. “I appreciate you picking me up and giving us a chance to talk privately.”

He inclined his head and led her in the direction of the airport lockers. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

She managed a smile at the understatement. “Once I collect Violet, I’ll start making arrangements for a place to stay while we’re in town.”

“Your parents?”

“No, a hotel, I think.” Her plate was brimming at the moment without heaping her parents on. She’d visit, of course, wouldn’t feel right about being in town and not seeing them. But only after she got things settled with Violet and Nic. So much was up in the air right now, and she didn’t have a clue what sort of working situation they’d come up with, couldn’t even begin to formulate a plan until she got a hold of her runaway. “Someplace central so it’s convenient to get around.”

Violet would want to see and do everything, and that would likely start with spending time with her father. Megan wondered how much time Nic would make for her.

“How long can you stay?” he asked.

“As long as it takes,” she answered honestly. “I’m afraid I don’t have a clue what Violet has in mind. And it’s only fair to give you a chance to wrap your brain around this and figure out what you want, too.”

He inclined his head, so solemn. “What about work and school?”

“School won’t be too much of a problem. Violet takes several online classes, so they won’t be an issue. I’ll talk to the school about the rest. Her teachers will make her work available so she can keep up. And the timing isn’t so bad for work, either. I’m on the tail end of a project, so everyone’s trained and functioning independently. If anything comes up, I should be able to solve any problems long distance.”

“Violet said you consulted for nonprofit organizations. She didn’t seem too clear on the details.”

“Pretty much what it sounds like—I set up their organizational structures and help them get established and operational.”

He fished a key from his pocket as they arrived at the lockers. Scanning the rows, he found what he was looking for on the bottom.

Good girl, Megan thought. Violet had remembered to store her bag on the floor rather than at eye level or overhead where thieves were more inclined to break in. Nice to know her daughter paid attention sometimes.

Nic opened the locker and slid out a duffel bag in a familiar shade of neon-green. “I thought you must have gotten a helluva deal on that suitcase, but I guess not. You actually chose this color.”

“Custom made. We paid a fortune,” she admitted. “But we travel so much it makes life easier at baggage claim.” She reached for her own bag. “I can take—”

Their fingers brushed as Nic reached for the handle at the same time. His warm fingertips connected with hers, a physical sensation. He jerked back as if shocked.

“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll get this one.”

He headed toward the terminal exit, leaving Megan flush with the knowledge that he was as whacked about being together as she was. He had seemed like a stranger with his law enforcement poker face that concealed so much more than it revealed. But now she knew.

Seeing her was rattling him.

And she felt bad. Nic hadn’t caused this awkwardness. The last choice he’d had any control over had been when Violet had been conceived. The rest was on her head.

Following him in silence, she reasoned that the only thing she could do to ease the tension was buy this man some time to come to terms with all these changes.

He led her to an unmarked cruiser, stowed the gear in the backseat. Ever the gentleman, he held the door. Megan slipped in, and the silence stretched as he wheeled onto I-10 and headed toward town.

“I left Violet with my mother at her shop,” Nic finally said, as if the silence had been getting to him, too.

“She’s still doing hair?”

He nodded. “At her own place. Not the house.”

“Good for her,” she said. “She make out okay with Katrina?”

He shrugged. “Better than some—the damage was mostly on the lower level. We managed to keep her out of a FEMA trailer while we repaired the house. She had fun redecorating. What about your parents? Are they still in town?”

“Yes, thanks. They made out okay.” She gazed out the window at the passing city. Another stranger. “I was almost afraid to see what everything looked like. It’s totally different, but some things haven’t changed at all.”

“Looks a lot better than it did,” Nic agreed.

Megan could definitely see the changes. Lots of new construction in long-established neighborhoods. Easements with no landscaping. Vacant lots with weeds and not much else. But her hometown had character, and though there were still boarded-up windows on shop fronts, other places showed the strength of people determined to rebuild.

“We were living in Hat Yai at the time,” she said. “We didn’t get a lot of news coverage. But what we saw was so horrible. Took me days to track down my parents to make sure they’d gotten out okay.”

Of course, the real culprit hadn’t been spotty cell reception, but that her parents had changed cell carriers and Megan hadn’t had their new numbers. She didn’t share that information with Nic. Not when it was such a sad commentary on the health of that relationship.

By comparison, Nic’s family had seemed to have grown closer in the years since Megan had left, judging by the sign above the parking lot Nic drove into.

The large commercial property that housed Anthony DiLeo Automotive also was home to Angelina’s Salon and International Studio of Martial Arts, Damon DiLeo, sensei, on the upper story.

Nic was already scowling as he pulled right up in the handicap space, close enough to read a sign on the door that read Be Back Soon.

“Not good?” she asked.

“My mother must have closed the shop and taken Violet with her.”

Megan reached for her purse. “I can call—”

“They’re probably at the house.”

Without another word, he eased into traffic and took her to the house he’d grown up in. The DiLeo’s modest two-story was in a residential neighborhood in the Lower Garden District. The house and yard were well cared for with a colorful array of springtime blooms dripping over the fence. Cars crammed the driveway and overflowed onto the street, and while the house looked barely large enough to raise a family with six kids, it had a lived-in look and a friendly feel that still felt welcoming.

“Damn it.” Nic drove up on the curb without preamble and made a spot to park on the front lawn. “What is she doing? Throwing a block party?”

Megan didn’t know what was taking place inside that house and didn’t care as long as her daughter was among the guests. Megan had weathered the storm and now finally, finally, all the uncertainty of this nightmare, all the fear, all the guilt of facing her actions and putting on a good face for Nic came crashing in on her. Violet would be inside, and the most important part of this nightmare would be over. The rest she could handle, as long as her daughter was okay.

“You ready?” Nic asked.

She nodded. And then they were on their way inside a place that had been a forgotten memory. The decor may have changed, but the impression of Nic’s home remained the same.

A home filled with love and laughter.

A sort of numb disbelief took hold as Megan walked beside him. She knew exactly where he was heading—the kitchen at the rear of the house. They passed through the hall then the living room and…there she was.

Seated at the head of the table, Violet held court, alive and in one piece and not looking any worse for the trip.

She glanced up as if it was the most natural thing in the world to find Megan standing there. “Hey, Mom.”

As casual as if she’d arrived home from a friend’s house. As if the past few days had never been and she belonged in the family home of the father she hadn’t known existed in the entire time she’d been alive.

She hopped up with that long-legged grace Megan knew by heart. No longer her beautiful little girl, but an independent young woman, her own person, who thought for herself and knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to do what it took to get it.

Even if it meant running from one continent to another.

But none of that mattered right now. They were mother and daughter and came together as naturally as breathing. Violet slipped her arms around Megan’s waist and rested a cheek on her shoulder in a familiar hello.

And Megan held on.

No matter what had passed between them, the decisions, the mistakes, the tiny betrayals, love won out over all of them. Violet was as relieved to see her mom as Megan was to see her. She could feel it in those slender arms that held her close, hear it in the sweet voice that asked, “You okay, Mom?”

They were together and that was all that mattered. Now wasn’t the time for recriminations or accusations or anything but the only thing that was really important.

Violet was okay.

Megan pressed a kiss into her daughter’s hair. “I am now.”