Page 55 of Hard Rain Coming
Alicia, forty-two, was a stay-at-home mom, while Frank, forty-six, owned a successful property development business. They’d never been in trouble with the law, paid their taxes on time, and led the kind of life most Americans dreamed of.
Vivian’s throat tightened as she skimmed the rest of it—she’d read the pages many times since receiving the report. They’d named her daughter Summer Rose Landry.
“Joelle,” she whispered, touching the photo that was attached to the next paper. She’d held her once, and Vivian had named her after her mother.
She swiped at a tear that rolled down her face and studied the photo. It was taken at an event in Belle Adair only a few months earlier. Her daughter was beautiful. Tall, coltish, with long blonde hair that waved and blue eyes that pierced.
She has my cheekbones and chin.
She has Dallas’s eyes.
Summer Landry, fifteen, excelled in school and was the top of her sophomore class. She showed horses, took dance classes, and was on the swim team. She had a close group of girlfriends. Played softball and made time for the church choir.
And she’d wanted to meet Vivian for the past three years.
The note she’d written to Vivian was still in the envelope. The seal had never been broken because she’d never had the balls to read it. In fact, she’d told the lawyer not to contact her ever again. He’d informed her that he was retiring and that he would let the girl know Vivian’s wishes. At the time, she hadn’t wanted to know anything about her daughter. Where she was living, who she was living with. It was too painful.
Vivian tucked the letter back into the folder. She still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. She still wasn’t ready to read the letter.
Yet, she was here and that was a step forward. If I actually take it.
She checked her watch. It was now or never. After a few moments, she got up, grabbed the sweater, and turned toward the door. Nervously, she ran her hands through her hair, then wondered if she should wear something different. Something a bit more sophisticated. Or maybe she should wear her hair up. That would look more like…
Like what? she thought. A mother? Like a woman who hadn’t given her child to complete strangers?
“God,” she muttered, walking out of her room before she changed her mind. It was after two in the afternoon, and she had fifteen minutes to find the café and get settled. Fifteen minutes to grow the kind of balls she needed to get through the next hour.
Fifteen minutes before her life would change forever.
“Geez, drama much?” She laughed at herself, a nervous sound that echoed in the empty stairwell, and then ran down the stairs. It was overcast and on the cool side, so she pulled on her sweater and got into her rental.
She punched in the address she’d stored into her phone, then, just before she was about to leave the B and B, her call rang.
It was Jack.
“Hey,” she said, picking up.
“I just listened to your voicemail. Are you okay?” He made no effort to hide his concern. “I should be there with you.”
She’d called him the moment she left the ranch, but he’d been out, and now she was embarrassed at the length and desperation of the message she’d left him.
“I’m okay. On my way to some café in town.”
Silence followed her declaration, and she pictured him on the other end, mouth pursed and brow furrowed while he decided what words would best serve the situation.
“I promise I’m okay,” she said, pulling out of the driveway and taking a left on the street that should take her to the downtown area.
“How long will you be there?”
“I don’t know. A few days, maybe.”
“And where are you exactly?”
“I’m in a town called Belle Adair, staying at a B and B.”
“With a name like that, Louisiana would be my guess.”
“Yes.”