First Impressions

“My mother.”
    With his fingertips, he brushed the tousled hair from her cheeks. “Is she ill?”
    “No!” It was a quick, furious explosion. The violence of the denial surprised him, but he took her agitated hands in his.
    “Tell me what happened.”
    “She came,” Shane managed, then fought to compose herself.
    “Your mother came here?” he prompted.
    “Near closing time. I didn’t expect . . . She didn’t come for the funeral or answer my letter.” Her hands twisted in his, but Vance kept them in a gentle grip.
    “This is the first time you’ve seen her since your grandmother died?” he asked. His voice was calm and quiet. Shane’s eyes were still for a moment as she met his eyes directly.
    “I haven’t seen Anne in over two years,” she said flatly. “Since she married her publicity agent. They’re divorced now, so she came back.” Shaking her head, Shane drew in a breath. “She almost made me believe she cared. I thought we could talk to each other. Really talk.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It was all an act, all the tears and grief. She sat there begging me to understand, and I believed—” Breaking off again, she shuddered with the effort of continuing. “She didn’t come because of Gran or because of me.” When she opened her eyes again, Vance saw they were dull with pain. With a savage effort he kept his voice calm.
    “Why did she come, Shane?”
    Because her breathing was jerky again, she took a moment to answer. “Money,” she said flatly. “She thought there would be money. She was furious that Gran left everything to me, and she wouldn’t believe me when I told her how little there had been. I should have known!” she said in a quick rage, which then almost immediately subsided. “I did know.” Her shoulders slumped as though she bore an intolerable weight. “I’ve always known. She’s never cared about anyone. I’d hoped there might be some feeling in her for Gran, but . . . When she came running up here to paw through my papers, I said horrible things. I can’t be sorry that I did.” Tears sprang to her eyes, only to be swiftly controlled. “I gave her half of what’s left and made her leave.”
    “You gave her money?” Vance demanded, incredulous enough to interrupt.
    Shane gave him a weary look. “Gran would have given it to her. She’s still my mother.”
    Disgust and rage rose in his throat. It took all the willpower he had not to give in to it. His anger wouldn’t help Shane. “She’s not your mother, Shane,” he said matter-of-factly. When she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head and continued. “Biologically, yes, but you’re too smart to think that means anything. Cats have kittens too, Shane.” He tightened his grip when he saw the flicker of pain on her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”
    “No. No, you’re right.” Her hands went limp again as she let out a sigh. “The truth is, I very rarely think of her. Whatever feelings I have for her are mostly because Gran loved her. And yet . . .”
    “And yet,” he finished, “you make yourself sick with guilt.”
    “How can it be natural to want her to stay away?” Shane demanded in a rush. “Gran—”
    “Your grandmother might have felt differently, might have given her money out of a sense of obligation. But think, who did she leave everything to? Everything important to her?”
    “Yes, yes, I know, but . . .”
    “When you think of the meaning of ‘mother,’ Shane, who comes to your mind?”
    She stared at him. This time when the tears gathered, they brimmed over. Without a word, she dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “I told her I didn’t love her. I meant it, but . . .”
    “You don’t owe her anything.” He drew her closer. “I know something about guilt, Shane, about letting it tear at you. I won’t let you do that to yourself.”
    “I told her to stay away from me.” She gave a long, weary sigh. “I don’t think she will.”
    Vance remained silent for a moment. “Is that what you want?”
    “Oh God, yes.”
    He pressed his lips to her temple before lifting her into his arms. “Come on, you’re exhausted. Lie down for a while and sleep.”
    “No, I’m not tired,” she lied as her lids fluttered down. “I just have a headache. And dinner’s—”
    “I turned off the oven,” he told her as he carried her to the bed. “We’ll eat later.” After flipping down the quilt, he bent to lay Shane between