Rapture (Fallen Angels #4)(97)
Author: J.R. Ward

Mels felt surprise ripple through her—but come on. Her mother wasn’t a child. “What about…like, the lawn care? Dad used to mow the grass, but who does it now?”

“Right after he died, I asked the neighbors how they handled it. Some have their husbands or their kids tackle the yard, and that obviously wasn’t an option for me. I gave it a go a couple of times, but it was so much work, I knew it was better to pay someone. I went with a professional service, because I don’t want to worry from week to week if it’s getting done—plus they do a cleanup in the fall and the spring. Mels, is there something you’re worried about?”

“Yeah, actually, there is.” She smoothed the table again, running her palm over the place where her father had taken care of things his way. “I—ah, I’m concerned that I’ve spent the last few years trying to be Dad for you, and not only hasn’t it worked—I haven’t been very supportive on any level. And you’ve managed to take care of yourself quite nicely.”

There was a long silence. “You know, I’ve wondered,” her mother murmured, “why you stayed. You’ve been so unhappy here—and it’s pretty clear you’ve resented me.”

“Which is not your doing—and a bad call on my part, all the way around.” Mels tapped the table. “I just…he would have wanted me to look after you. Or someone to.”

“That was his way.” She shook her head slowly. “He was always old-fashioned, a real man’s man with values that were very traditional. I loved him, so I let him love me the way he saw fit.”

“But you didn’t need it, did you.”

“I needed him. I was very happy with him.” A sad light came into her eyes. “He was the type of man who had to be in control, and I married him and had you when I was young. But I did grow up.”

“Were there…problems about that?” God, that seemed so personal.

There was a long period of quiet. “I loved him, he loved me—at the end of the day, nothing changed that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“That he died and left you alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have a life now that is rich and full with friends and things I like to do. And what has worried me most about you is that that doesn’t seem to be happening for you. This is your time to do what you want, succeed where you wish, choose your own path. It’s what I did with your father…and I was so glad I didn’t hesitate because he and I got shortchanged out of a good thirty more years. You deserve the same the thing, with whoever or wherever or whatever you love.”

Tears pricked. “I’m not sure why I haven’t figured this all out until now. I’m a reporter—you’d think I could get to the bottom of my own life.”

“Things are not always so easy and clear.” Her mother reached over and covered Mels’s hand. “These last few years have been really hard. But I’m building my own place in this world…and I think you need to do the same.”

“You are so right.” Mels brushed her cheeks and laughed a little. “You know what I’ve been working on these last few months?”

“Tell me.”

“An article on missing persons. I haven’t gotten anywhere with it—after hours and hours at my desk, staring at the statistics, tracking down the sources, questioning and requestioning everything, I’m no closer than any of the other journalists to what the real story is.”

“Maybe you’ll find the answers eventually, though?”

Mels met her mother’s eyes. “I think I should have been looking into the mirror, instead. It’s going to sound weird, but…since he died, I’ve been missing in my own life. I don’t know if that makes sense?”

“Of course it does. The two of you were peas in a pod—I’m sure you know this, but he was so proud of you.”

“It’s funny…growing up, I always wondered if he wouldn’t have preferred a son.”

“Oh, not at all. He wanted you. He used to say you were the perfect child for him. Nothing made him prouder and happier than you did, and that was among the main reasons I loved him so. That father/daughter bond? It’s so important, and I should know. I was a daddy’s girl—I wanted that for you, too, and you had it with him. I only wish it had been for longer.”

“God, I love you, Mom.” Mels jerked up from the chair and went around. Falling to her knees, she put her arms around the woman. “I love you so much.”

As she felt herself get held in return, she thought that, of all the days when she needed this, today was it.

In the sunshine, in the kitchen, in the embrace of a mother she had never thought she would understand, she realized that her father wasn’t the only awesome one in the family—and she had a terrible sense that if he hadn’t died, this moment might never have happened.

Kind of made her think about that whole God-doesn’t-close-a-door-without-opening-a-window thing.

Mels eased back and wiped under her eyes again. “Well. There you go.”

Her mom smiled. “Your father used to say that.”

“Was he as good to you as he was to me?”

“Every bit as wonderful. Your father is one in a million—and his death didn’t change that. Never will.”

Mels rose to her feet. “I, ah, I made coffee a while ago. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

When Mels turned away for the coffee pot and the cupboard, she thought at least all was not lost. As devastated as she was about Matthias, this gave her a measure of peace.

And set her to thinking about where she was at.

She might not have found all those missing persons, but she was through being lost in her own life.

47

Back downtown at the Marriott, Adrian had had a front row seat for the reporter’s departure: sitting out in the corridor, he’d watched as the woman took off from Matthias’s hotel room, her I’m-outta-here gait a pretty clear indication that she was not a happy camper.

Annnnd the gun in her hand was another dead giveaway.

Looked like he’d given up his sex life for nothing.

As she’d stepped into an elevator, Adrian went to jump to his feet—and for the first time in his life, he didn’t go instant vertical.

His body just refused to work right, the pain in his leg joints slowing him down, his lack of depth perception creating a wonky balance problem—