dear and gentle he had been, and how she missed him, despite the fact that passion had never really figured in their relationship. Even though she’d shared his bed, he had never stirred the embers of her emotions. Oftentimes she’d wondered if she was capable of feeling such stirrings. Having been reared to distrust men, she’d been a virgin when she’d married Porter.
Because of that, her husband had treated her like a fragile piece of porcelain in bed. Out of the bedroom, however, he’d treated her like an equal, which had become the strength and underpinnings of their solid marriage. It had been through him that she had overcome so much pain, making her strong-willed and resilient, strengths she knew would get her through this latest ordeal.
Yet when she’d told her mother she was getting married and to whom, Opal Cannon had been outraged.
“Have you lost your mind?” she’d asked, a frown adding unflattering years to her otherwise unlined face.
Jessica had stiffened. “That’s a hurtful thing to say.”
“I don’t care,” Opal declared with a sweep of her pudgy hand. “I thought I’d done a better job of rearing you than that.”
“Oh, Mother,” Jessica said, her tone brimming with sadness. “I wish you could let go of the past. What Daddy did has almost ruined your life.”
“And you’re about to do the same thing.”
Jessica shook her head adamantly. “Not all men are like Daddy. Contrary to what you think, some have sticking power.”
Opal’s frown deepened. “And you think Porter does?”
“Without question.”
“What about that son of his?”
Jessica stiffened. “What about him?”
“If you think he’s going to put you before that kid, think again. You’ll always be second.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Even if he hated his own flesh and blood, you’re still making a big mistake. Why, he’s old enough to be your father, for heaven’s sake.”
“That’s all right.”
“Is that what you’re looking for, huh? Someone to take his place?”
“Of course not. How can you say that?”
“Because that’s what it looks like from the outside. You’re a successful attorney with a bright future in front of you, with the sky as the limit.”
“Marrying Porter’s not going to change that.”
“That’s what you think,” Opal countered scornfully. “Before you know it, you’ll be dancing to his tune.” She paused, her breathing becoming more labored by the second. “What about your desire to go into politics?”
“He’ll support me.”
“Dream on, honey.” Opal’s tone was tainted with bitterness. “He has political aspirations of his own, if I’m not mistaken.”
Jessica crossed her arms over her chest as if seeking protection from the sharp blows of her mother’s criticism. “That he does, and I’ll support him one hundred percent. If need be, mine can wait.”
Opal threw up her hands. “For all the headway I’m making, I might as well be talking to a brick wall. You’re as obstinate as that sorry daddy of yours.”
Jessica winced visibly. It seemed her mother took delight in taking her own hurt and anger out on her just because she’d been close to her father and had even been willing to forgive and forget, if only Farrell had made the effort to make amends before his death. Of course, he hadn’t, which made the pain of his rejection that much harder to bear. But she had managed. Unlike her mother, she’d moved on and grieved over the loss of her dad, silently, in the darkest corner of her heart.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mother. However, I’m not asking your permission to marry Porter.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“Your blessings, actually.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give them.”
That cut to the core. “What happens when Joan decides to get married? Will she be subjected to the same lecture?”
“No because she won’t make that mistake. She has better sense.”
“Sure, Mother,” Jessica responded, making an effort to hide her smile and her disdain. Her younger sister had had numerous boyfriends, a fact that she’d hidden from their mother. One day, though, Joan would meet Mr. Right and marry him. Jessica would be curious to see her mother’s reaction to her favorite child’s rebellion.
“You go ahead and take the leap,” Opal said into the silence. “But mark my words, you’ll be sorry.”
Needless to say, she and her sister both had defied Opal, and both marriages had been successful. Joan, fortunately, was still married, with three children whom Opal doted on. As for herself, she had never been able to completely forgive or forget her mother’s hurtful words or hostile attitude.
Suddenly the phone rang. The caller ID identified her mother’s number. Was that mental telepathy or what? She hadn’t heard from Opal Cannon in over a month, something that wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Since her mother had remarried—a shock in itself, considering her attitude toward men—and moved to Florida, she and Opal had drifted further apart.
“Jessica?”
“I’m here, Mother.”
“I was just thinking about you,” Opal said in the hesitant tone that was usual when she spoke to her elder daughter. “So I decided to call.”
“I was thinking about you, too, actually.”
“Oh.”
Jessica heard the surprise in Opal’s voice and felt the old sting of guilt. Her mother had tried throughout the years to patch things up between them, but it never quite worked. Jessica had decided long ago that the blame rested equally between them, which lessened her penchant for beating up on herself.
“Are you and Chris all right?” Chris was Opal’s husband, a good man and a good provider, for which Jessica was thankful. Long after her father had deserted them, leaving her mother to support two young children on a teacher’s salary, Opal’s resentment had continued to fester. She had sworn she hated men and would never have another.
She’d vowed to make it on her own. That endeavor had been difficult, especially financially. Yet Opal had done remarkably well. It was in the emotional arena that she had failed.
“We’re fine,” Opal acknowledged into the silence. “How ’bout you?”
“All right,” she
