Emilie Richards – One Mountain Away (страница 12)

She got out of the car and only then noticed that her father’s Acura was no longer in front of her house. His spot had been taken by a familiar yellow Volkswagen bug.

The front door of the house was unlocked, which was no surprise. Taylor locked up at bedtime, but the neighborhood was quiet, and the neighbors on both sides had great-grandchildren and time to watch the world go by outside their windows. Her neighbors were another reason she didn’t want to move to a better job in a faceless city.

She closed the front door loudly so her guest would know she was home. The house was so small she was through the living room and kitchen in seconds, then beyond to the family room that was just large enough for a small television and sofa. The television was off and Samantha Ferguson was curled up on the cushions, but if she’d been sleeping, she wasn’t now. She smiled, arms out and fists clenched as she stretched.

“You’re not my father,” Taylor said. “He’s older, and his hair’s turning gray.”

“I forgot you were teaching this evening. I popped by on my way back from Mom’s, so I told him I’d wait for you. He looked tired. I think he was glad to go.”

Taylor felt a twinge of guilt. Her father adored Maddie, but she wondered if she was taking advantage of his devotion. By drawing constantly on his support and help, was she keeping him from finding a woman he could share his life with?

She tossed her backpack on the coffee table and flopped down beside her friend. “Where’s Edna?”

“Mom’s got her. Tomorrow’s a field trip to a local farm, and Mom’s on spring vacation, so she said she’d chaperone.”

Taylor lowered her voice. “Maddie’s already asleep?”

“For a good hour. She was exhausted.”

“Dad told you what happened?”

“He said she had a generalized tonic-clonic seizure.”

Samantha’s medical training made it so easy to talk to her. Taylor was always grateful not to have to mince words. “Maybe it was an anomaly,” she said.

Samantha nodded. “It’s hard to know.”

Normally Taylor might have treated herself to a glass of wine after a long day, but Samantha didn’t drink, and the two women were such old friends that if Samantha had wanted anything else, she would have gotten it.

“She seemed okay?” Taylor probed.

“A little disoriented. I don’t think she got much homework done.”

“I’ll have to call her teacher. They try not to give homework over the weekend. Maybe Maddie can make up whatever she didn’t do on Saturday.”

Samantha was half lying, half sitting, with her dark hair spread against the back of the old sofa. She was of mixed ancestry, as if the continents of the world had huddled together at her creation. Her father had been half Korean, half African-American. Her mother’s heritage was unknown but likely European. Samantha’s face was long and elegant, her huge eyes slightly tilted, her hair wild, her complexion the color of almonds. She wasn’t classically beautiful, and exotic was too charged a word to describe her. She was distinctive, extraordinary. At twenty-nine, she’d already lived harder and faster than most people twice her age.

“Maddie told me she talked to Jeremy,” she said.

“Did she tell you what they talked about?” Taylor didn’t even try to mask a grimace.

“She told him about the seizure. She said he asked a lot of questions.”

“He’s good at questions. It makes him feel involved, like he’s actually participating in her life.”

“By my standards, sweet pea, he’s Father of the Year. He pays child support, and puts money aside for her college.”

There was something to be said for that. Samantha refused to even discuss Edna’s father, who she claimed was completely out of the picture. In contrast, last year, after one of his songs had sold to a recording company, Jeremy had sent Taylor an unexpected bonus check to sock away for emergencies. Taylor had to give the man some credit.

“Getting checks is great,” she said. “But he’s around just enough to remind Maddie that she has a father, and gone just enough to make her yearn for a real one.”

“What would you do if he was around all the time?” Samantha asked. “Would you really like that better?”

Taylor shrugged that off. “Not worth worrying about, since it’s never going to happen. He’s got Nashville in his blood, and that’s where the money is for the band. I’d better hope he doesn’t move here, or he’ll be writing ballads about being too broke to support his baby girl.”

The phone rang just in time to prevent Samantha from answering. She got up and ambled into the kitchen to give Taylor privacy. “I’d love some tea,” Taylor called after her, before she picked up the telephone.

The male voice was unmistakable, but he identified himself, just in case. “Taylor, Jeremy.”

It might be relatively early, but she was tired, and she wondered if he knew it. Jeremy wasn’t a bully, but he was a master at figuring out how to get what he wanted. He called that talent the ability to size up a situation, something that had helped him wedge open the door of the country music scene. It hadn’t helped him enough to make him a star, but his band, the Black Balsam Drifters, was now opening for big-name acts, and the songs he wrote and sang were being heard by significant players in the business.

“It’s been a long day,” she said, hoping honesty would throw him off his game. “I just got home, and I’m beat. Can we make this short?”

“Maddie and I had a nice talk.”

“Sam told me.”

“How is Sam?”

“Waiting in the kitchen while we finish this,” she said.

“Maddie said she had a whopper of a seizure this afternoon.”

“That’s how she said it?”

“She described how she was feeling at the moment, and I guessed the rest. Maybe I’m wrong?”

“No.” She sighed. “She’d been doing really well. I hoped the new meds…” Her voice trailed off.

“How bad was it?”

“Bad enough.”

“You called the doctor?”

“No, I sent her out to play in traffic.” She could have kicked herself the moment the words came out of her mouth. “I’m sorry. It really has been a long day.”

“What did he say?”

Jeremy was almost always rational, and he rarely engaged in sniping. Usually she was at least polite. She attempted to continue that tradition.

“He told me to keep an eye on her and bring her in on Monday. If anything significant comes of the visit, I’ll let you know, I promise.”

“Taylor, I know this is a bad time to bring this up. You’ve made it clear you’re whupped. But I think we can do better than Dr. Hilliard. I know you like him—”

“Like him? Before Dr. Hilliard, Maddie was just a name on a chart. Half the time I don’t think the doctor of the moment even read her case history. If I have a problem, he calls me back. He’s doing everything he can to get the medication adjusted, so we don’t have more events like the one we had at dinnertime.”

“But it’s not working.”

“This is not a sinus infection. If epilepsy were simple to treat, I could go to the drugstore and grab something over the counter.”

The silence went on so long, she began to wonder if they had been disconnected. Then he spoke.

“Not the right time for this. And it’s not a criticism, Taylor. But I worry. You’re right there, you can watch and make decisions based on what you see. I don’t have that…”

“What? Luxury? Is that what you were going to say? You think it’s a luxury to be right here watching her go through this?”

“I don’t have that information,” he said. “I need more time with her.”

“You know where we live. You send her support check to this address every month.”

“I want her to come to Nashville this summer.”

This time the silence was on Taylor’s end. “Did I hear that right?” she asked at last. “You want her to come to Nashville? And then what? You get a gig out of town, drag her along and stow her backstage? Or what, she stays at your apartment with a babysitter who doesn’t know jack about how to help her if she needs it?”

“None of the above. Look, there’s no casual way to tell you this. I’m engaged. Her name’s Willow, and she was our promoter on the last tour. She loves kids. I want her to get to know Maddie before we get married.”

Taylor took a moment to recover. “Well, that’s completely out of the blue. Does Maddie know?”

“Willow and I have been together awhile, but I didn’t see any point in telling Maddie if it wasn’t going to work out.”

“Thanks for that.”

“I do think about what’s good for her.”

“Why don’t you just bring Willow to Asheville to meet Maddie?”

“I don’t want her to meet Maddie. I want her to spend time with Maddie. Real time, two weeks at the beginning of summer. And Maddie’s been asking to come to Nashville. Willow has a little house with some land outside the city, and it’s a great place for a kid, so we’ll stay there. The band’s going to hunker down and put together our next CD, so there’s no chance we’ll be out on the road. I want to introduce them here, where there’s no pressure from anybody else.”