Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [78]
The door opened. And her mother stood there. Despite the number of years since the last photograph Megan had seen, she recognized her. Her hair had turned gray and was blunt cut at her shoulders. She wore a crabby expression and no makeup. Her icy-blue eyes were paler than Megan’s and made her seem cold. The flannel shirt she had on was faded and well washed, as were the khaki pants. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”
“I’m not selling anything. My name is Megan West. I’m your daughter.”
Chapter Sixteen
Megan wasn’t sure what she expected but in none of the many scenarios she imagined had she come up with one where her mother just stared at her with no sign of emotion. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my mother.”
“What do you want?”
“Nothing. I just ...” Megan’s mouth was so dry she could barely speak. “Can I please come in so we can talk?”
Her mother grudgingly opened the door farther to let her in.
Megan noticed that the combination living/dining room was done in minimalist furnishings. No paintings on the wall. No photos anywhere. No tchotchkes. The table was filled with two laptops and papers.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted your work.”
Her mother didn’t say “that’s okay” or any of the polite comments that most people would make. Instead she just stood there, arms crossed, her expression devoid of anything—surprise, happiness, sadness.
Megan tried not to panic. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket to hide the fact that they were trembling. She’d dressed carefully in black pants, a white top and a knit berry-colored jacket. She’d added one of her favorite necklaces, a delicate hand-carved cameo that Faith had bought her in Italy. She’d needed the self-confidence that looking good was supposed to provide. She wanted her mother to be proud of her.
Now she just wanted her to say something to break this excruciating silence.
Megan cleared her throat. “I, uh, probably should have called first.”
Again no response.
“I, um, I just found out that you’re not dead. I didn’t know. I’ve been trying to find you for a few weeks now. I even tracked down someone you knew in high school. Do you remember Fiona? You went to Woodstock with her. She gave me copies of some photos of you there. I brought them with me.” Megan reached into her bag and pulled them out to show them to her.
She held them out for her mother to take, who merely gave them a cursory look.
“Maybe you want to see some identification for me,” Megan said. “Prove that I am who I say I am. I mean, the last time you saw me I was two years old. I’ve changed since then. Here.” Again she dug into her purse. It distracted her from staring at her mother’s impassive face. She opened her wallet. “Here’s my driver’s license. I still live in Chicago. I’m a librarian there. So is my cousin, Faith. I don’t know if you remember her.” Hell, Megan didn’t know at this point if her mother even remembered Megan. “Do you want to see it?” She held out her license.
Her mother gave it an even briefer look than she had the Woodstock photos. She didn’t actually touch it or touch Megan.
Still no expression. No comment. Nothing.
“If this is a bad time, maybe I should come back later?” Megan said.
“No.”
Okay, finally a verbal response. That meant her mother wanted her to stay, right? That was a good sign.
“Okay, so now you know that I really am Megan West, your daughter.” She put her wallet away. “Like I said, I’ve been trying to find you for a few weeks now. Ever since I found out at Faith’s wedding that you were still alive. Well, it was the reception actually. Not that you care about that.”
At this point her mother didn’t seem to care about anything. Maybe she was in shock? “I know my dad gave you a large sum of money to stay away from me.”
“I wouldn’t call it a large amount.”
“Are you afraid of him? Did he or my uncle threaten you if you tried to contact me or if I found you?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m relieved.”
Her mother didn’t seem