Page 53 of You'll Find Out
“I don’t remember making any plans with Shane . . .”
“Damn that man!” June hissed, slamming her small, bony fist into the soft cushions. “Oh dear god, Mara. What have I done?” she whispered, and the fist unclasped to fall over her small breasts.
Mara was scared, but not for the safety of her child. She knew the power of Shane’s love for the little girl, and she knew that he wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to hurt Angie. As long as Angie was with Shane, the child was safe. But of course, June knew nothing of Shane’s devotion to his child, and coupled with that, Peter’s mother disliked Shane intensely. Mara read the fears on June’s worried face, and somehow, she knew that she had to calm the older woman.
“It’s all right,” Mara began, placing a comforting hand on June’s thin shoulders. June averted her gaze.
“No, it’s not . . . I should never have let her go!” Self-doubt tortured her. “If anything happens to Angie, I’ll never forgive myself!”
“Nothing’s going to happen, don’t worry,” Mara said with a thin smile, knowing that her words didn’t ring true. “There’s just been a mix-up of some kind. That’s all!”
June’s watery blue eyes impaled Mara with the lie.
“Come on, now,” Mara insisted, ignoring June’s rueful stare and helping the older woman to her feet. “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll make you some lemonade. I’m sure that Shane will call shortly, or bring Angie back very soon.” She smiled confidently at her pale mother-in-law as they made their way back to the inside of the house, and she hoped that June wouldn’t notice the nervous collection of moisture that had beaded in the palms of her hands. What was Shane doing with Angie? He was supposed to be on his way back to Atlanta! And what, if anything, was all this nonsense about a jazz festival in the park?
June sat rigidly on the couch in the den. Her forehead was creased with a worried scowl, and she watched, unseeing, through the paned windows, out past the gardens. Mara hurried back into the kitchen, obsessed with her worries for Angie and her mother-in-law. What kind of game was Shane playing? Was he hoping to force a confrontation between Mara and her mother-in-law by abducting his child for the afternoon? Did he just need some time alone with Angie? Why would he take her away from Mara? The words froze in her mind, and thoughtlessly she cut her finger on the can of lemonade she had been opening. Without realizing what she was doing, she took a paper napkin and wrapped it over the finger.
The shrill ring of the telephone startled her from her dark thoughts, and in her anxious attempt to pick up the receiver, she spilled some of the lemonade onto the counter. Ignoring the mess, she grabbed the phone and answered it breathlessly.
“Hello? Shane?”Dear God, please let it be him,she prayed, closing her eyes.
“Mara!” Shane’s controlled voice came to her over the wires. Mara’s weak knees buckled and she slumped against the counter, unconscious of the dripping lemonade.
“Shane,” she whispered, after swallowing with difficulty. “I’ve been half out of my mind! Where are you? Where’s Angie?” Her fingers tightened around the ivory-colored plastic receiver.
A thick pause. Mara felt the seconds creep by. “I’m home.”
“In Atlanta?” she nearly shouted. Then, thinking about June in the next room, she hushed her voice. “And Angie?”
“She’s with me.” His voice sounded cold, indifferent.
“Why?” she asked. “Why would you do this to me?”
“Let’s not go through all of that all over again.”
“But, I don’t understand . . .”
She heard his deep, resigned sigh. “Neither do I. Not really,” he admitted. “But I felt that I had to do something to get your attention.”
“Get my attention? By stealing my child?” she hissed vehemently, and glanced furtively toward the den. How much of the conversation could June hear, piece together? Surely the older woman had heard the telephone ring and might wonder if it was news of Angie. Another fear assailed Mara. Perhaps June was, at this moment, listening on the extension, but she pushed the thought aside. It was ludicrous. June was, above all else, a lady, and she wouldn’t stoop to listening in on someone else’s call.
“Bring her back, Shane,” Mara demanded.
“No.”
“What?”
“I said ‘no,’” he repeated quietly. “If you want her, come and get her.”
“IfI want her?” Mara gasped. “Oh, Shane, don’t do this. Don’t play games with me, and please, please, don’t use Angie . . . don’t put her between us. It’s not fair to her!” Mara pleaded desperately.
“And living with one parent, and a lie, is?” he asked, his voice rough.
“That could all be changed, very soon.”
“I’ve heard that one before!” His voice sounded dead, emotionless.
“Shane, for God’s sake, what are you doing? Can’t you see what you’re asking of our child?”
