Left Turn at Paradise Page 13

“Woo-Woo…” Layla echoed in wonder.

  “Yeah, this little stuffed dog,” Beth said. “One of the women from the group home gave him to you. You couldn’t sleep without it.”

  Woo Woo, with his half-eaten ear, missing eye and bald patches. Woo Woo, the holder of all her childhood woes. “I still have him.”

  Her mother’s face softened. “I’m glad you had him to comfort you when I couldn’t. I wasn’t able to find any. I cried for days afterwards.”

  “Where did you go? Where have you been all this time? I know Gran searched for you.”

  “Did she?” Elizabeth seemed fascinated by that. “I wondered sometimes if she didn’t think good riddance and proceed to forget I ever existed.”

  Irritation flared again at the slight to her grandmother. “Are you crazy? She’s been hurting every day since you disappeared. I know she always tried to hide it, but I sensed it my entire life. Sometimes she’d look at me, and her eyes would get so sad. I knew she was remembering you and what happened. When I think of how she’s suffered because of you, it makes me sick. Now where did you go?”

  “I started using the name Bess Parker. As for where I went…nowhere and everywhere. I never stayed in one place for long. I worked every dead-end job you could imagine. I was messed up for a long time, and my guilt drove me even further down a dark path. Alcohol, drugs, men. Anything to try and dull the pain. I’m lucky I didn’t get myself killed.”

  “Wait.” Layla held up a hand. “Is this the part where you say everything changed? You suddenly saw the error of your ways and came back to try to make amends?”

  Elizabeth absorbed the sarcasm. “No, God had to hit me over the head before I took the right path.” Her voice trailed off, and it seemed as though she’d gone somewhere else. A soft smile stole across her face. “A couple of times actually.”

  “A couple times?” Layla asked, wondering what that faraway look meant and whom Elizabeth was thinking about. “You mean it took more than a serious illness?”

  Elizabeth shook off the temporary lapse. She looked up at Layla, and then her eyes darted away again. “There were a lot of things that made me realize I needed to get my life on track. Things that might be excusable for a teenager are unacceptable for a grown woman. Cancer has a way of making everything real clear.”

  “If things were so clear, why wait?” Layla asked. “Why didn’t you come home when you were first diagnosed?”

  “Because I didn’t have the strength to face my past and cancer at the same time. Or maybe it was partly vanity,” she said, gesturing to her skinny body. “I’d left here the most beautiful girl in town. I couldn’t bear to return looking like a bald scarecrow. But that was before I realized this new me was a better version. She was prettier than I’d ever been in all the ways that counted. I had to be torn apart and put back together again before I was ready to face you and what I’d done.”

  “What if you’d died?” Layla asked, choking back tears now. “I wouldn’t have even known.”

  “I had letters.”

  “What letters?”

  “The ones I wrote to you and my mother.”

  “A letter?” Anger burst forth like a geyser. “After thirty years of waiting for an explanation from you, do you really think a letter was going to erase all the damage you’d done?”

  Elizabeth blanched. “I—”

  Layla held up a hand. “No. You’ve had your say. I’ve heard about your bad choices and dangerous living. Now I get my say.”

  Elizabeth took a breath. “Okay.”

  Layla started pacing now. “Do you have any idea how awful it is to lie in bed every night and wonder what you did wrong that your own mother couldn’t love you? How hard it was to see a mother and daughter walking down the street and know I’d never be able to do that? After I left Shellwater Key, I found myself looking at every woman I passed, until I finally realized I was checking to see if one of them was you. Everything I’ve done in my life was to prove you wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “That you were wrong to abandon me. That I wasn’t worthless. On some level I hoped that if I could become successful enough, you’d regret giving me up.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes filled. “Baby, you didn’t have to do anything for me to regret what I’d done. I know I hurt you. I know I messed up everything. You have every right to hate me, but I need you to understand that not a day went by that I didn’t think about you and wonder how you were. If I could go back and change things, I would.”

  “But you can’t.”

  Her body seemed to collapse, as if all her energy had disappeared like a deflating balloon. “No.”

  Layla stared at her mother, a bubbling cauldron of emotions boiling inside her. “I don’t know what you expect me to do now. I can’t say I forgive you. I wish I could.”

  “I know. It’s too soon.” Elizabeth turned and eased toward the sliding door. “I’ve given you a lot to think about. I should go.”

  “Go?” she asked, a bolt of panic jolting her. “You mean leave town?”

  Elizabeth’s lips firmed. “No. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’ll be around until—”

  “Until when?”

  “Until you either forgive me or you tell me get out and never bother you again. I just hope you’re prepared to accept an all-out assault on your better nature while you’re deciding which it will be.”

  “What does that mean?” Layla asked, eyes narrowing.

  “It means I want your forgiveness, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Hello girls,” Aunt Grace called as she stepped out onto the patio carrying a plate with sandwiches. “I brought lunch.”

  Layla didn’t know if she was grateful for the interruption…or frustrated. “It’s only eleven.”

  Aunt Grace set the plate down on the patio table. “Yes, but your mother needs to keep up her strength.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s always trying to feed me,” she said, in the dry, no-nonsense tone Layla was beginning to recognize.

  “Stick around here, and you’ll put on weight,” Layla said. “If I’m not careful I won’t fit into most of my clothes soon.”

  Aunt Grace beamed. “I’m so glad to see you two together. And it’s good that you’re getting along. Especially as you’ll be working together.”

  Layla’s head jerked around. “I’m sorry?”

  “Barbara is sick, and I have to be here to take care of her, so you’re going to need an assistant at The Paradise,” Aunt Grace said. “I’ve decided Elizabeth will be perfect.”

  Layla’s head swam. “No…”

  Aunt Grace smiled, but there was steel behind it. “It’s my theatre. I can hire anyone I want.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Aunt Grace, we shouldn’t push her.”

  “If we don’t push, she’ll just ignore you, and then we’ll never be able to move past this ugliness.”

  “Hello?” Layla waved her hands in the air. “I’m standing right here.”

  “I know dear,” Aunt Grace said. “Trust me, this is the best way. It will give you time to get to know your mother. Besides, it’s the only way I’ll agree to keep Elizabeth’s return from your grandmother.”

  Layla’s hands went to her hips. “That’s blackmail.”

  “I prefer to think of it as creative bargaining,” Aunt Grace said. “Now, do we have a deal?”

  “But I can’t work with her,” Layla said. She didn’t know if she could handle dealing with her mother in the one place where she felt safe and comfortable.

  Aunt Grace’s smile didn’t waver, nor did the determination. “You’ll find a way. I have faith in you.”

  Chapter Ten

  Layla rolled over and squinted at the clock. Only four minutes since the last time she’d looked. She flung an arm across her face, praying for sleep, but her mind was too jumbled with thoughts about her mother, worries about Gran’s health, and a heapin
g pile of guilt over keeping Elizabeth’s reappearance a secret. Her mother was back and wanted to make amends. Layla didn’t know if she could accept her mother’s explanation, and forgiveness seemed impossible after all the years of strife.

  With a muffled curse, Layla got up, threw on some clothes and headed out into the night. With no destination in mind, she jumped in her car and started driving. If she’d thought things would improve by returning to Miami, she’d have pointed her slick BMW south and left every sorry memory of Shellwater Key behind. She’d go anywhere to outrun her aching heart.

  Of course, thirty years of running hadn’t solved anything.

  Eventually, she pulled into the parking lot of The Paradise. In the darkness, the building resembled a great, hulking Jack-in-the-Box. A chorus of frogs and crickets greeted her as she stepped out of the car.

  Make that crickets and hammering.

  Curious to see who was being so industrious at this hour, she walked around the corner of the building and saw lights coming from the workshop. She peered inside and spotted Noah standing over a long, rectangular slab of wood propped up on top of two sawhorses. He sanded the flat surface in smooth strokes.

  “Nice to know I’m not the only insomniac around here,” she said.

  He started and looked up. A faint grin crooked up one corner of his mouth when he saw her. “Hey, Boss.”

  She ambled closer. “What are you doing?”

  Swipe… “Solving the privacy issues in the ladies’ bathroom,” he said.

  “You’re making stall doors at three in the morning?”

  Swipe… “Better than counting the stucco on the ceiling at my place.”

  She made an inarticulate sound of disgust. “I don’t even have stucco to count.”

  He searched her face for a moment. “There’s more sand paper on the shelves over there,” he said, jerking his chin over his shoulder.

  “Don’t they make fancy electric sanders these days?” she asked as she went over to the shelves.

  “More therapeutic this way.”

  After a quick demonstration in the finer points of sanding, she took over on the bottom end. They worked in silence for several minutes. The only sound was the gentle scrape of sandpaper against wood.

  “Feel like talking about it?” Noah asked after a while.

  “No… Do you feel like telling me why you can’t sleep?”

  “Nope.”

  “I bet it was a love affair gone bad,” Layla said, swiping her sandpaper over the surface.

  The comment finally got him to stop sanding and look up. “What?”

  “I’m still trying to figure you out, especially the big gap in your résumé. You have a real air of tragedy about you, so it’s got to be something terrible. I’m thinking you fell in love with the wrong person. Maybe the construction owner’s daughter. He didn’t like his little girl taking up with a lowly carpenter who had no prospects. You make plans to run away, only Daddy gets wind of it and stops your desperate flight, ships Dear Daughter off to who knows where so you’ll never see each other again.”

  “That sounds like a bad Gothic novel.”

  Layla tipped her head. “Not even close?”

  He chuckled and went back to sanding. “No.”

  “Then it has to be a tragic death.”

  Noah froze mid-swipe, but this time he didn’t look up. Layla sensed the awful tension in him from where she stood.

  “Oh Noah…” Layla said in a near whisper. “Is that it? You lost someone you love? Was it a terrible disease? A lingering thing? Or was it sudden?”

  When he spoke his voice was husky and stripped of any emotion. “Layla, I can’t.”

  Layla couldn’t let go yet. “Is that what you’re running from?”

  “Didn’t I tell you I’ve been running toward something?” he said, clearly backing away from whatever emotional cliff they’d been approaching.

  Layla didn’t have the heart to push him, so she let him change the subject. “Right, looking for a sign.”

  “Maybe.”

  Layla returned to sanding her corner of the door. “I could use a sign to tell me what to do. Because I need to know what happens when everything you thought you knew about your past gets turned on its ear.”

  “You’re forced to reevaluate your whole life?” Noah suggested without missing a beat.

  She scowled and sanded harder. She was having a major life crisis, and he wanted to get flippant? “You don’t understand.”

  “I might if you tell me.”

  She sighed. “Okay, fine. My mother abandoned me when I was a baby. Dropped me on Gran’s doorstep and took off. She never came back.”

  He paused mid-stroke to glance up. “That’s rough.”

  “Only now she’s back.” She threw the morsel out at him just to see his reaction.

  Noah stopped sanding. His brows shot up toward his hairline. “Really? Out of the blue?”

  “Yeah, can you believe it? She’s apparently had a major life change brought on by a battle with cancer.”

  He nodded. “I can see where that would make her reassess everything. How did you wind up on your grandmother’s doorstep?”

  “My mother took off from the hospital with me after I was born.”

  “And then couldn’t handle taking care of a baby so she brought you to someone who would,” he filled in.

  Layla shook her sandpaper at him. “You’re a find the good in everyone kind of guy, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m a look at the situation from the outside kind of guy.”

  “Well, stop it.”

  She went back to sanding the door.

  “How old was your mother when she got pregnant?” The question was idle, as if he was asking about the weather.

  “Seventeen.”

  He let out a soft whistle. “Not much more than a baby herself.”

  “Yeah.” Layla thought about what she’d been like at seventeen. She didn’t know how she’d have handled an unplanned pregnancy. She couldn’t say for sure how she’d handle one now. Such details didn’t erase a lifetime of hurt, however.

  Noah finished his section and came to stand next to her. “A baby is a lot to deal with at such a young age. She must have been terrified.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she said, really digging in to the wood now.

  “What?”

  “I’ve spent my whole life resenting my mother. Hating her almost. I never once thought of her as—”

  “A scared teenager?”

  “Stop doing that.”

  “I was only pointing out the truth,” He placed a hand over hers, stopping her frantic motion. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the door if you don’t ease up.”

  She threw the sandpaper down. “Maybe I like my version of things better.”

  If he noticed her temper tantrum, he didn’t call her on it. “Holding on to anger is sometimes easier than forgiveness.”

  “Are you a carpenter or a psychologist?” she asked, wishing he wasn’t so blasted calm. She wished he would shout so she could shout back.

  “I’m your friend,” he said, a wealth of sympathy in his eyes.

  Chills chased across her body, and she rubbed her arms to ward off the sensation. “It’s just that I’ve spent all these years thinking of her as this irresponsible party girl who couldn’t bother with her own kid.”

  “It’s difficult to let go of those preconceived notions. Is it so hard to think of your mother as someone who simply didn’t know another way out of a terrible situation?”

  “Being young and scared doesn’t excuse her. She didn’t stay young. She had years to come back, but she chose to stay in hiding, leaving me to wonder what was so awful about me that my own mother couldn’t love me.”

  “Perhaps she was scared of what would happen if she did come back. It’s not easy to face your past mistakes. She’d have no idea the kind of reception she’d get, from you or your grandmother. She could get a door slammed in her face. Be rejected and turned
away before she had a chance to explain anything.”

  She stared at him in bemusement. “How are you always able to explain our worst behavior so easily?”

  “I know a little about human nature and all its frailties.”

  “You are a psychologist.”

  He chuckled. “No. More like an observer. Besides, I have my own frailties.”

  “What are they?” she grumbled. “I need to know so I don’t feel so bad.”

  Noah put down the sandpaper and looked down at her. “You’re human, and you’ve been hurt by the one person you should have been able to count on the most. You’re allowed to feel pissed off and hurt for a while. Then you need to get over it.”

  Fresh anger bloomed in her chest. “Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “Shrug it off and act like it all never happened?”

  “Forgiveness never comes just like that.”

  “Forgive her? After what she did?”

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the sawhorse. “Hanging on to anger and resentment will only hurt you in the end. Has hating your mother brought you any happiness?”

  “No. I just don’t know if I can let go.”

  “Then you pray about it,” Noah suggested.

  “I don’t know if I can do that either. I gave all that up.”

  “Never too late to start again.”

  “You don’t think the man upstairs would resent me waltzing back asking for favors after all this time?” she asked. She knew she’d certainly laugh in disgust and disbelief if she were God. But Noah surprised her again.

  “I think he and all his angels would rejoice over it,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

  A stunning thought occurred to her. “You’re not one, are you?” she asked, like that kid from The Sixth Sense whispering about seeing dead people.

  “An angel?” He grinned. “If I were, God would definitely demand I turn in my wings.”

  She smiled. Her first genuine smile in what seemed like ages. “So…forgive her?”

  “It’s my advice for what it’s worth.”

  Perhaps it was sound advice, but Layla didn’t know if forgiveness would ever be possible. And if it wasn’t?

  She feared this awful sense of emptiness would be with her for the rest of her life.