Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [19]
“I’ve had more than enough excitement to last me. Tame is good in a husband and father.”
“Not my father,” Sophie said. “You’re not going to let him adopt me, right?”
“I promised I’d wait until you were more comfortable with the idea. But you’re happy here, aren’t you, baby? You’re glad we’re not wandering the globe anymore? You like David?” Sophie was the only human being on this earth who could make her feel anxious. She wanted so desperately to make it right for her daughter that she would have done anything, married anyone to give her the normal home life and the opportunities she deserved.
“Of course, Ma,” Sophie said cheerfully. “I’m just yanking your chain. David’s great, and he never tries to boss me around or be too chummy. And even if Stephen Henry’s a pain in the butt he’s nice enough. You did great, Ma. You love David and he adores you. So it’s all good.”
She sounded like she meant it. It would be nice if Sophie took to David the way she’d probably react to Caleb, but the truth of the matter was, David was boring. Good, solid, dependable. Far from perfect—he was a little vain, with just the barest trace of a control freak that he mostly managed to keep under control.
No, Sophie would find Caleb much more interesting. After all, she was her mother’s daughter.
“Uh…Ma? Don’t you want to get home?”
Rachel jerked. “Sorry, babe. I was just thinking too much. Yeah, let’s go home. I think I need chocolate.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sophie said cheerfully. And only a mother would have recognized the strain beneath her young voice.
By the time they got back to the house the day had turned unseasonably warm, almost muggy, and the omnipresent clouds only magnified the sense of impending doom. The air was thick, and Rachel could practically feel the mold forming on her skin. How did people live like this?
She turned on every light as she walked through the house, making a mental note to go out and buy hundred-watt lightbulbs to replace David’s muted lighting. Sophie headed into the family room at the back of the house to work on her homework. It was as far from David’s library/office as possible in the spread-out house, the only room that had a television, and Sophie had claimed it for her own. Apart from the studio, it was the only room where Rachel really felt comfortable. That would change, of course, once she lived here longer. She’d talk David into brighter colors, more comfortable furniture. In the meantime she’d have to make do with music livening the place up.
She pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, reached over and turned on the radio, loud. David preferred new-age music so bland that it was practically Muzak. Rachel found an oldies station and turned it up full blast. How could bad things be threatening when the Beach Boys were singing “Wouldn’t it Be Nice?”? She could close her eyes and almost imagine she was in the bright Southern California sunshine, Sophie beside her, surrounded by the crash of the waves, the smell of suntan oil and hot dogs. Here she was, thirty years old and she’d never learned to surf. It would take an earthquake to move David from this town where he’d lived his entire life—if she intended to stay married to him then surfing, and any other kind of adventure, would be out of the question.
And what kind of thought was that—if she stayed married? She wasn’t a quitter. She’d made a commitment, a choice for her daughter’s future. She wasn’t going to change her mind and go chasing after lost chances. She’d had plenty of years to follow her heart. It was time to follow her head.
Sure enough, the Beach Boys finished and Aretha came on, singing “Chain of Fools.” Maybe if she listened long enough she’d find the answers to all her problems.
And why the hell did she have problems? She had a daughter she adored, a kind husband, a new life. So she was just the tiniest bit bored. So what? She’d spent most of her life being much too impulsive, grabbing Sophie and heading out for new adventures. It was past time to grow up, do the sensible thing. And she’d done