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can t let her deal with this on her own, either. Not when everything is about to spiral out of control.
Jasmine s mother stared at him for a long moment before stepping back.  Why don t you come
in, and we ll see if we can find some ice for that foot.
She took him through to her living room full of pictures of Jasmine growing up. It reminded
Gareth of the family photos in Anne s home.
Deirdre handed him an ice pack for his foot and set a cup of coffee onto the table beside him
before finally sitting down, her own cup cradled in her hands.
 I love my daughter, she told him,  even if I don t agree with what she s doing.
 Why don t you agree with it?
 It isn t what Edward would have wanted. Jasmine is so angry about it all that she won t listen
to anything I say about how it all played out between me and her father.
 Why don t you tell me what happened? Gareth suggested.
For a moment, he thought Deirdre wouldn t do it, but then she nodded.  I met him when he
came to Ashland on a book tour. I d read all of his books, and I think I d kind of fallen in love with
the idea of him, if that makes any sense. Anyway, after the book signing, when everyone else had
gone, he looked so lonely that I invited him to come to a party with some friends of mine. We talked
for hours, and I must have reminded him of his wife. I was young enough not to know better, and when
one thing led to another, I didn t think to stop it, even though it was clear he d never had an affair in
his life& nor did he really intend to. Had it not been for Jasmine, I very much doubt I ever would
have seen him again.
 So Edward Farleigh is definitely Jasmine s father? Gareth asked.
Deirdre nodded.  When I told him I was pregnant, it was clear that he didn t want to leave me
to deal with having and raising a baby all on my own. He sent me money to help out, and he used to
visit from time to time to see Jasmine. She made sure to clarify,  He and I only slept together that
once, you see, and it was clear just how horrible he felt about what he d done to his wife.
 How often did he visit?
Deirdre sighed.  I guess that s where all these problems started. You see, I wouldn t let
Edward visit too often, because I knew how confusing it would be for Jasmine to have a father who
was there and gone again. I thought it was better if he was simply a  family friend, because I knew
Edward would never leave his family for us. He loved Chloe and Anne too much and missed them
every minute he was apart from them. But he loved Jasmine too, I m sure of it. He would have liked
to have spent so much more time with her, but knowing that we d never have him completely, and that
it would only end up breaking Jasmine s heart, I cut off contact with him when she was just a little
girl. Her eyes were bleak.  I honestly believed this way was better. Only, when she wouldn t stop
asking about him, and then she found his picture& 
 I understand, Gareth said.  You had a terribly difficult choice to make. And you made the
best one you could at the time.
 I wish my daughter understood things the way you do. All this time, she grew up wondering
who her father was and what she d done to make him go away, even though I told her it wasn t her
fault. The whole court case& I don t even think it s about the money. I think it s more that she just
wants something that was Edward s, because she never got to have him.
 Whereas Anne did, Gareth said softly.  Ms. Turner, I know you don t know me and that you
don t owe me anything, but there s something I m really hoping you will do& 
Chapter Sixteen
 I never noticed before, Anne declared,  just how nice the ceiling is in here.
Lying next to her on the dance floor of the Rose Chalet that evening, Rose turned her head
toward her friend.  You re drunk.
 So are you.
And they were. Completely smashed.
 Well, what else are best friends for? Rose asked.
 You re totally my best friend, Anne s words slurred slightly,  but this isn t just sympathy
drinking, is it?
 Yes, it is!
 No, Anne insisted.  RJ went off to go on a date with some other woman, and now you re all
 
Rose made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a hiccup, and Anne quickly shut her
mouth. Well, as quickly as she could, given how numb her lips felt.
They lapsed into a brief silence punctuated by more gulps from the bottles close at hand.
The fizzy, sweet champagne helped Anne admit,  Did I tell you that I tore up my mother s
dress?
 No! What a horrible idea, Anne. Why d you do that?
Unfortunately, getting drunk hadn t helped her forget one single thing that had happened. She
could still remember the hurt, the despair she d felt when she d yelled at Gareth to leave.
And how it had been even worse when he d actually left.
 Because it was a lie! Anne declared.
 Hold on, that doesn t make sense.
Rose rolled over so that they could talk face-to-face. Her friend s features blurred slightly
when Anne did the same thing.
 It s a dress. Not a lie. Can t be both. Rose held up a hand in front of her face as if she was
counting her fingers to make sure they were all there.  No, it definitely can t be both.
 Not the dress, Anne said.
 You just said it was the dress.
Rose looked more than a little perplexed. Though frankly, given the amount they d both had to
drink, even the painted design on the ceiling was looking pretty confusing.
 Everything, Anne insisted.  Everything s a lie.
 Oh God, Rose said.  This is like being back in Mrs. Findler s philosophy class. Do you
remember her?
 I remember all kinds of things, Anne assured her. Alcohol did that instead of helping her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]