she noted. “I have no agenda, only to help Shannon if you’ll let me. As I said before, if you need me, I’ll be there. You can count on that.”
She was caught between his concern and her fear that she would be naive to believe him. “Why are you so concerned? You know I don’t like you. And I know you think I shouldn’t have custody of my daughter.”
* * *
JAKE WANTED TO walk away from this irritable woman. He wanted to tell her that her behavior was churlish and immature. Neither action would accomplish anything. He was beginning to see why Shannon might not have been willing to confide in her mother, a woman who clung to her opinions despite information to the contrary.
Unless something altered the situation, Shannon and Andrea would resolve little over the next few weeks. But he’d just sworn off any involvement with this situation, so why didn’t he walk away?
Because you’re attracted to determined, strong-willed women. You believe you can sway their opinions, change their attitudes.
He almost squirmed at the uncomfortable knowledge he was attracted to Andrea. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong woman.
Pushing the thought aside, he noticed she stared at him with a nervous expression. Should he push her to accept his help? Or maybe he could persuade her to listen to her daughter, to encourage Shannon to share her feelings. It would make it easier for Shannon to be more open.
No. He couldn’t be involved. His decision in the counselor’s office was the right one. “Okay. Fine. Have a nice day.”
She looked surprised. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said, a tiny furrow forming between her blue eyes.
The way she looked at him, the open vulnerability in her eyes startled him. He’d never imagined Andrea would apologize to him. “You have so much to contend with at the moment, and I understand how difficult this is for you.”
“Do you?” she asked.
“Well, not personally, but as a child psychologist I am accustomed to dealing with teenagers,” he said, “and listening to their parents.” He wondered if she’d accept his invitation to talk.
Andrea hesitated, her hands clinging to the steering wheel.
In that unguarded moment, he saw a woman embedded in a crisis she was struggling to deal with. He wanted to once again offer his support, but she was an adult and she had his business card. All she had to do was reach out to him. Somehow he knew she wouldn’t do that. Andrea’s pride wouldn’t allow her. “Drive safe,” he said before turning and walking away.
* * *
ANDREA WATCHED JAKE leave and wished she could have kept him talking to her. How strange was that? She didn’t like him. She didn’t trust him—Well, maybe she trusted him a little, but that hardly counted. As she focused on his broad shoulders, his long stride, she faced the truth. She wanted to talk to a man who understood what it was like to deal with a teenager in trouble.
She needed to unburden her heart, to seek relief from all the turmoil wreaking havoc inside her. But she was also afraid that he’d uncover a flaw in her, in her parenting that would prove she hadn’t been the kind of mother she fervently wanted to be. To expose her feelings, her concerns to a man she didn’t trust was senseless.
With a sigh she drove out of the parking lot. She followed the tree-lined streets to the parkway leading toward her subdivision. She loved this street, the only route that led directly to her home. She loved the trees, the shady areas like tiny alcoves along the curbs, the brightly colored town houses and condos. It all seemed so upbeat and inviting, a balm to her worry.
Andrea parked in the garage and shut off the engine. She had stopped at the local bakery and bought Shannon’s favorite bagels, a peace offering of sorts. She had rehearsed how she’d start this conversation. If all went as she planned, Shannon would do the talking.
Sitting alone in the vehicle, her eyes aching from lack of sleep, she wished with all her heart that she didn’t have to face her daughter. Not this way with so much at stake. If she were perfectly honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she was ready for the truth from Shannon. Knowing her daughter, there had to have been something pretty serious going on in her life for Shannon to behave the way Melody Chapman described.
Yet she couldn’t put this off any longer. She grabbed the bag of bagels then headed inside.
In the kitchen she saw the peanut butter out on the counter, along with a loaf of bread, its remaining slices spilling from the plastic bag. A spike of irritation at Shannon’s thoughtlessness hit. She couldn’t clean up after herself? Especially now?
Andrea checked the bathroom, the den, but found no sign of Shannon. Had she left the house without telling her? “So much for grounding her,” she muttered. She dug her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Chloe’s number. Maybe Shannon had gone there. Chloe answered on the fourth ring.
“Is Shannon with you, Chloe?”
“No,” Chloe said her voice trembling.
“Are you all right?” Andrea asked.
“I’m fine.” She sniffed and cleared her throat.
“Have you heard from Shannon?”
“Yes.” She paused. “She called me.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“I thought she was home. We didn’t talk very long. She was pretty angry with me.”
Chloe and Shannon had never had a fight before that Andrea could remember. “About what?”
“You’ll have to ask her,” Chloe said, sounding upset.
“And you don’t know where she might have gone?”
“No.” Huge sobs filled the line just as Chloe hung up.
What was that all about? Andrea headed to Shannon’s room. “Shannon, are you in there?” she asked through the closed door, a sickening feeling growing when she received no response.
She eased the door open, expecting to find Shannon curled up on her bed, upset at the rift with Chloe.
There was no one in the bed. In fact, it was neatly made and everything in the room was in order. On the dresser by the bed, an envelope was propped against a photo of the two of them at the nature park when Shannon was ten. The photo of Shannon and her father was nowhere in sight.
Her heart pounding with dread, she picked up the envelope and shakily tore it open. Four words were scrawled in Shannon’s familiar writing: I’ve gone to Dad’s.
Stunned, Andrea stared at the note, almost not understanding the words. Panic rose in her throat, choking her. Shannon couldn’t have left like this. She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Andrea’s hands shook as she reread the note. The words stood out black and hard against the white paper.
How could Shannon do this? She had to know how terrified I’d be.
Feeling faint, Andrea sat on the bed. Shannon had said she’d be here after the meeting.
