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Carl spoke from behind her before Jackson had a chance to defend himself. “In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I wholeheartedly approve of the woman you married, Jay.”
Fifteen
Laurel turned. Carl leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his sturdy chest and a bland look on his face that was probably intended to mask his uncertainty as he searched Jackson’s expression.
She glanced back at Jackson, seeing a similar anxiety reflected in his eyes when he looked at her. Then he said to Carl, “I don’t think any of us have made it clear enough during the past few years that Laurel deserves our admiration and respect.”
Laurel’s face warmed in embarrassment, but Carl merely nodded his agreement with Jackson’s comment. “No, we haven’t. We seem to have a problem with communication in our family. We don’t talk enough about important things. We don’t tell each other often enough how we feel about each other. Heck, when I tried to tell you at the hospital how proud I am of you, you thought I must be dying.”
Laurel thought that must have been a very interesting conversation. She would have left them to talk alone now, but Carl still blocked the doorway. Staying as inconspicuous as possible, she stood very still as Jackson said, “I shouldn’t have had to find out like this.”
“No, son, you shouldn’t have,” Carl replied heavily. “I’m real sorry for that, and so is your mother. We hope you can forgive us someday, and that you’ll understand that we did the best we knew how at the time.”
“Do you really think we can go on as if nothing at all has changed?” Jackson asked. “Mom said this guy wants to meet me now that he knows about me. What am I supposed to do about that?”
Carl shrugged, then spoke with his usual bluntness. “Nothing has changed. As Laurel just pointed out, we have thirty-one years of history between us. You are my son, and I wouldn’t love you one bit more if we had the same blood type or DNA. Now, as it happens, there’s another man who does share those things with you. If you want to meet him and your half siblings, that’s up to you. Your mother doesn’t want you to have anything to do with them, but I told her she needs to leave that to you. You’ve got a right to know them if you want to. Doesn’t mean anything has to change between you and your mother and me.”
Laurel held her breath as she waited for Jackson to respond. He took his time about it. After all, Carl had conveyed quite a lot in typically few words.
Finally, Jackson nodded and straightened away from the counter where he had been leaning. Even if it were due more to imitation than inheritance, Laurel thought his expression looked very much like Carl’s when he said, “For the past three years, I’ve tried to be the kind of father to Tyler that you were to me. Maybe I need to change a few things, like not working so many hours and being more willing to talk about important things, but I still think I couldn’t have had a better role model. I just hope someday Tyler feels about me the way I do about you.”
Carl swallowed hard, then reached out to lightly punch Jackson’s arm. His version of a hug, Laurel thought wryly. “We’re straight, then?”
Maybe it wouldn’t be quite as easy as Carl obviously hoped, but Jackson seemed to know Carl needed reassurance. “Yeah, Dad. We’re straight.”
“And your mother? Are you going to forgive her, too?”
Jackson hesitated. “I can’t deny that I’ve had a hard time reconciling what she told me with the woman I’ve always believed her to be.”
“She’s exactly the woman you thought she was.” Carl spoke with a touch of heat now, obviously ready to defend his wife. “She made some mistakes when she was a kid—hell, I made more than a few, myself—but she’s been a damned good wife to me and mother to you. Excuse my language, Laurel.”
She nodded, faintly amused by yet another display of Carl’s old-fashioned gallantry.
“Anyway, I never blamed Donna for falling for Jack Crosby. The guy’s smooth as satin, and she wasn’t the only young woman he deceived, I’m sure. I was glad to be there when she needed me, and in return she’s given me thirty-one years of happy marriage. And don’t you go doubting that she loves either of us, Jay. It didn’t take long for me to teach her the difference between a slick operator and a real man.”
This time Laurel had to suppress a smile. As usual, Carl had stated his opinions without arrogance or tact. Laurel thought it must be nice to be so confident in one’s beliefs.
“Laurel?” Donna stepped into the doorway, looking from one of them to the other as if trying to guess what they had been talking about. Though she continued speaking to Laurel, her gaze remained on her son’s face. “Tyler’s starting to complain that he’s hungry.”
Laurel didn’t budge. In a moderated voice she replied, “Dinner’s ready. Jackson and I would love for you and Carl to join us, Donna. There’s plenty for everyone.”
“Sure smells good,” Carl said.
“We wouldn’t want to intrude,” Donna murmured, still looking at Jackson, unsure and anxious.
Seeming to come to a resolution of some sort, Jackson moved toward her. “Don’t be silly, Mom. Laurel and Tyler and I want you to have dinner with us. We’ll call it a celebration dinner. After all, he’s out of the hospital and our family is all together again.”
Donna’s eyes flooded, of course, but she managed a smile, probably knowing that neither her son nor her husband would appreciate an emotional scene. “Then we would be delighted to stay.”
He leaned over to brush a gentle kiss across her cheek. Laurel knew, as Donna must, that Jackson would need a little more time to come to terms fully with what he had learned, but he was still the same man he had always been. He loved his family, and he would never do anything deliberately to hurt any of them.
No matter how badly he himself had been hurt.
Donna turned to Laurel. “What can I do to help you, dear?”
Normally Laurel would have politely declined any offers of assistance, wanting to prove that she could handle serving dinner on her own. The way she had always done everything else. This time she smiled a bit shyly and replied, “You could help me set the table and put the food out, if you want.”
Donna seemed both surprised and pleased that Laurel had actually accepted her help. “Yes,” she said. “I’d be happy to do that.”
