It shouldn’t matter, because she’d made it a point a long time ago to stay away from that side of her life. The woman who was supposed to be a mother to her never really was and Belinda always hated Lauren’s very existence. If it wasn’t for the money Belinda demanded, Lauren would never see her.
Would she have gone to the funeral so she could say goodbye? No, she had said her goodbyes when she left the house as a young and scared teenager. Now that Dorothy was dead, should she forgive her for such a shitty childhood? Even after all these years she couldn’t bring herself to forgive the woman. The memory of Dorothy’s icy, unfeeling eyes would burn forever in her mind.
It didn’t matter now. There would be no goodbyes, chances of forgiveness, or telling Dorothy to go to hell as they lowered her casket in the ground.
Hot tears burned behind her eyes. Not tears of sadness, but tears of anger. She thought she’d stopped being angry a long time ago. Thought she had even accepted her past and all the ghosts within it. So feeling the old emotions rage and open up like old wounds surprised her.
Vision blurry, she pulled out what looked like a twenty-dollar note and placed it on the table. With her head down she rushed out of the coffee shop and ran smack into a firm, solid, warm wall.
“I’m sorry.” Lauren tried stepping around the wall, but two familiar, strong hands gripped her arms.
“Lauren, what’s wrong?” Concern sounded in Jack’s voice, but she didn’t dare look at him because he might witness another meltdown.
“I’m in a hurry, Jack. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for our meeting.” Her voice shook.
“Fuck the meeting. Lauren, look at me.”
Humiliation held tight and she shook her head.
Placing a finger under her chin and tilting it up, he mumbled a curse under his breath as
he examined her face. “What happened?” he demanded.
“Nothing, Jack. Please, I have to go.” She tried to break free from his grip with no success.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere like this.” The firm tone left no room for argument.
“Jack, I’m fine.” She tried to smile in the hopes he’d see she was okay and let her go. She couldn’t let him see her in such a state again. Actually, maybe if she told him how messed up her life was he’d leave her well and truly alone. Wasn’t that what she wanted? Her brain and her heart were in a tug-of-war.
“Let’s go.” Holding her hand, he led her across the road and toward his car.
She pulled him to a stop, and he turned to look at her. “My car’s back the other way.” “I know.” He continued to pull her along only for her to stop him again.
“I want to go to my car.”
“You’re in no condition to drive.”
Normally she would have dug in her heels, but she didn’t have the energy to argue over this, so she let him pull her behind him.
When they reached his car, he opened the passenger door and she slid onto soft leather seats warmed by the summer heat. Jack slid into the driver’s side, started the ignition, and flicked the air conditioning to high. She was thankful for the sudden blast of cold air that cooled her flushed face. She could only imagine how red and blotchy it must look.
Driving along Carter Street, Jack turned onto Hamilton Avenue without saying a word. Grateful for the silence, Lauren glanced out the passenger side window. Retail shops along the strip had closed for the day, but the restaurants were getting ready for Friday night trade. The silence grew thick; she needed to say something. “I don’t normally cry so much.” Jack glanced at her then back at the road.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve cried, and unfortunately, you’ve witnessed it twice within a few weeks. Sorry about that.” She tried to laugh but it sounded flat.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Will you stop asking if I say no?”
“No.”
Letting out a shaky laugh, she turned her attention to the passenger side window, not yet ready to talk. After ten minutes they entered a part of town known as the sporting hub. The area had been designed for football, soccer, and cricket fields. Bicycle tracks and footpaths led down to the beaches of Brimland Point.
“This isn’t the way to my house.” Why wasn’t he taking her straight home?
“I know.”
She turned to glare at him. “Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?”
