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Authors: Charlotte Hughes

BOOK: Husband Wanted
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They sat side-by-side. “What is it, Clay?” Frannie asked.

He took a deep breath. “Mandy’s parents were killed in a car accident last year, by a drunk driver.”

Frannie gasped. “Oh, Clay, no!” She shook her head, not because she didn’t believe it, but because she didn’t
want
to believe it. She didn’t want to think of her poor daughter going through such an ordeal. “Where has Mandy been living all this time?”

“With her Aunt Rhea.”

“No wonder she’s not in a hurry to return. The girl clearly dislikes her aunt, and from the sound of it she has every right.” Frannie stood and walked to the window. “This is all so unbelievable,” she said, her heart breaking for her daughter. “She obviously typed the letter that was supposedly from her adoptive mother, giving her permission to visit.”

“Well, the girl certainly did a clever job of fooling us,” Clay said. “Makes me wonder how long she’s been planning it.”

There was a knock at the door. Mandy poked her head through. “I just wanted to let you know I was back from the stable.” She paused and looked from Frannie to Clay and back at Frannie. “What’s wrong?”

“Please come in,” Frannie said gently. “We need to speak with you.”

“Uh-oh. Did I do something wrong?”

“Take a seat, Mandy,” Clay said.

The girl looked baffled but did as she was told. Frannie clasped her hands together and regarded her with a worried frown. “Clay and I have been so worried about you, that we decided to do some checking in Washington.” She didn’t want to put the blame on Clay alone and have Mandy resent him. She saw a look of unease, then resignation, cross her daughter’s face.

“You found out about my parents?” she said flatly.

“Yes.” Frannie joined her on the sofa and took her hand. “We’re very sorry, Mandy,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “So very sorry.”

Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes, and she glanced away quickly. “It’s been a year now, but it’s still hard to talk about.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“After the accident, I looked through a file cabinet my dad kept in his home office, and all the information regarding my adoption was in one of the files, including the forms you signed giving up your rights to me. I took the file and hid it.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you kept your parents’ death from me,” Frannie said. “Maybe I could have helped you in some small way. I know what loss is like.”

“Once I got up the nerve to contact you, I was afraid to tell you about my parents because I feared you’d feel sorry for me and agree to let me visit out of pity. Also, I did not know if you even wanted to see me after all the trouble you went through to get rid of me.”

Frannie felt as though she’d been stabbed in the heart. She could feel her own eyes burning with tears. Clay was quiet. She wished he would say something,
anything.

“Of course I want you, Mandy,” she said softly. “I’ve
always
wanted you, from the moment I knew you were growing inside of me. I gave you up because I couldn’t bear to bring you into a life of poverty. Please don’t hate me for that.”

The girl literally threw herself in Frannie’s arms as a giant sob escaped her throat. Frannie embraced her tightly. “I’m sorry for keeping my parents’ death a secret,” she said. “I’m also sorry for making up that crazy story about them being sent to a dangerous location. I was just hoping you and Clay would let me stay longer because—” She paused. “My Aunt Rhea found out I’m not where I’m was supposed to be.”

“Where are you supposed to be?”

“Staying with a friend from school. Unfortunately, Aunt Rhea called my friend’s mother to make sure I was behaving, and that’s when she realized I’d lied to her. She read my diary.”

“Read your diary!” Frannie said.

Mandy nodded. “She didn’t even bother looking for the key to the lock, she cut the strap. That’s how she found out about my plan.”

“I take it you and Aunt Rhea are not close,” Clay said wryly.

“Aunt Rhea is fifty years old, but she acts like she’s ninety. She has never married—not that any man would put up with her—but she is set in her ways and she’s not about to change. Plus, she’s real religious. Everything I do is a sin. If I look at a cute boy that’s a huge sin. That’s why she put me in a private girls’ school. When she gets mad at me she says I’m going to get knocked-up just like—” Mandy suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth.

“Just like me,” Frannie said softly.

They were all quiet for a moment. Finally, Clay spoke. “So where do things stand with your aunt?” he asked. “Does she know you’re here?”

Mandy nodded. “She didn’t take it very well. She told me to come home and start packing my things, because she is sending me to a boarding school in Virginia. She threatens me with that from time to time.”

“Actually, a boarding school sounds more attractive, compared to living with your aunt,” Frannie said, then wished she hadn’t because she had only heard Mandy’s side of the story.

“It’s a boarding school for delinquent girls,” Mandy said.

“Have you ever been in trouble at school?” Clay asked.

“Not even once,” Mandy said. “I’m an honor student.”

Frannie felt disheartened by all she’d heard. Bad enough that Mandy had lost her parents . . . why they had chosen her aunt to take over raising their daughter was beyond her. Especially a woman who did not appear to relish the task.

“Mandy, why don’t you go ahead and get cleaned up for dinner,” Clay said. “I’d like to talk to Frannie alone.”

The girl looked from one to the other, shoulders slumped, her expression one of total desolation. She rose from the sofa and made her way quietly to the door, then paused before opening it. “I’m sorry for causing all this trouble,” she said and let herself out.

Neither Clay nor Frannie said anything right away. Finally, Frannie spoke. “I know what Mandy did was wrong, lying to her aunt as to her whereabouts, but if what Mandy says is true regarding her aunt, I don’t think she is living in the best environment.”

“That makes two of us,” Clay said. “What are we going to do?”

Frannie glanced at him. He’d said
we.
She wanted to assure him it wasn’t his problem and she would handle it as best she could. “I’ll call this Aunt Rhea person before dinner,” she said. “Then, tomorrow, if your father will let me borrow one of the cars, I’ll drive Mandy back to Washington personally, and I will confront the woman. I’m not sure it will do any good. After all, I have no legal right to Mandy.”

Clay shook his head. “The kid is miserable, Frannie. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but, somehow, some way, we have to get her out of there.”

“Her aunt will never agree to give me custody.”

“Let me help you, Frannie. For Mandy’s sake,” he added. He slipped his arms around her waist. When Frannie didn’t answer, he went on. “I’m going to D.C. with you and Mandy. I know it would be easier and faster if we took a plane, but I have every intention of bringing her back so we’ll need to pack her things as well.”

Frannie wished she shared his optimism. “As much as I dread it, I need to make a phone call.”

#

Frannie awoke at dawn the following morning after a fitful night. She slipped out of bed, stepped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a T-shirt, taking great care not to wake Clay. She grabbed a pair of sneakers, and hurried toward Mandy’s room. The girl was sleeping soundly, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Frannie thought she looked like an angel, and once again her heart swelled with love.

The thought of losing her almost sucked her breath away, but the call to her aunt had only made things worse.

“You either bring my niece home immediately or I’m going to file kidnapping charges against you,” the woman had said before hanging up on Frannie.

But first, Frannie wanted to show her daughter something. She shook the girl gently. “Wake up, Mandy,” she whispered. When the girl opened her eyes, Frannie smiled. “Get up, sleepyhead. I want to take you for a drive.”

Mandy glanced toward the darkened window. “You mean
now?”

The girl was still half asleep as Frannie led her to one of three garage doors on the side of the house and opened it. Her old car was still where Clay had parked it, more than a week before, after Frannie had insisted. She had not wanted Mandy to see it, but it was time. She wanted her daughter to know why she had made the decision to let her go, even though it had broken her heart and why a day never went by that Frannie didn’t think of her.

Frannie noted the curious expression on her daughter’s face as they settled in the front seat.

“Whose car is this? Mandy asked.

“Mine,” Frannie said. “As you can see, it’s not much to look at.”

“What’s going on, Mom?”

It was the first time Mandy had referred to her as her as anything other than her name, and it startled Frannie so badly, she almost ran off the gravel drive. She glanced at her daughter, then back at the road. She didn’t want to see the disappointment on Mandy’s face when she told her what needed to be said.

“I lied to you, honey,” she said after a moment. “Clay and I aren’t really married, and I don’t live in a mansion.”

The girl simply nodded. “I know.”

Frannie frowned. “Let me guess. Dwight Elderberry.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Mandy shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Besides—” She paused. “I wasn’t exactly honest with you and Clay.”

Frannie sighed. “I’m going to sound very motherly saying this, but I guess it all goes back to honestly being the best policy and all, huh?” She chuckled. “I wonder if the person responsible for that saying realized that if you tell one lie, it usually leads to others.” She looked at Mandy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” Her gaze softened. “I like it when you sound like a mother.”

Frannie was so touched, she feared she might cry. She blinked several times to keep the tears at bay.

Her house looked the same when Frannie pulled into the drive and parked. Not only did it need an exterior paint job, but the roof leaked. She turned off the engine and sat quietly for a moment, remembering the years she’d spent inside the house, good and bad. “Well, this is it,” she said, and heard the apology in her voice.

Mandy looked thoughtful. “This is your house?”

“Yep. Now you know why I didn’t want you to see it. Are you ready for the unveiling?”

Mandy nodded. They got out of the car, and the girl followed Frannie up a cracked walk to the porch, and waited while she unlocked the door. Once inside, she studied her surroundings thoughtfully. “It looks nicer inside,” she said, going from room to room. “Except for the pink bathroom,” she added and grinned.

“I never got around to painting it.”

“Why’d you bring me here?” Mandy asked.

“I was hoping you’d understand why I let you go, Mandy. I didn’t want you to have to live here, and be ashamed of having friends over. I never really had girlfriends while I was growing up because I didn’t want to invite them over. Also, my mother never felt well enough for company.”

“Your father abandoned you and your mother?”

Frannie nodded. “He said he couldn’t live around all the sickness.”

“What was wrong with your mother?”

“Cancer.”

“You miss her, don’t you?” Mandy said softly.

“She was my best friend.”

“What about
my
father?”

Frannie tried to stick as close as she could to the truth. “We were only seventeen when we met and fell in love,” she said. “I like to think had we been older, had I not had so many problems, we might have worked things out.” Frannie knew that was stretching it, but the thought
had
crossed her mind before she formally agreed to relinquish her rights to her baby girl.

Mandy seemed to ponder everything she’d been told. Finally, she sat at the kitchen table and clasped her hands together. “Seventeen is pretty young,” she said. “That’s only four years older than me.”

Frannie joined her. She paused and her bottom lip trembled. “I wanted you to have a better life,” she said. “I didn’t want you to grow up in poverty. I didn’t want the kids at school to make fun of you.”

Tears glistened in Mandy’s eyes. “I understand why you made your decision,” she said. “My parents . . . my
adoptive
parents, told me you were poor and had a very sick mother. I wish you would stop feeling guilty because I know, even though you loved me, a new baby would have made everything worse. You did the right thing, Mom. I was raised by kind and loving parents. I never did without.”

Frannie thought her heart would surely break at the confession and the sight of her daughter’s tears. “I’m so proud of you, Mandy,” she said, trying to talk around the lump in her throat. “So very proud, and I’m thankful for the wonderful couple who were so grateful to have you. They obviously did an outstanding job of raising you before the accident took their lives.”

“I’m glad you and I finally got to meet,” Mandy said.

“Me too, baby,” Frannie replied. “Me, too.” She sniffed. “I’m just sorry that you’re in trouble with your Aunt Rhea.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go back.” She sighed. “She will have tossed my room.”

“What?”

“Like they do with prisoners. The guards go in and
toss
their cells, looking for drugs or handmade knives, that sort of thing.”

Frannie just looked at her. “I don’t understand. Does your aunt suspect you of using drugs or hiding dangerous items?”

“No. It’s just her way of telling me I’d better think twice before I try to slip something past her. That’s why I hide my diary. There’s a loose board beneath my bed that she doesn’t know about. If I really wanted to hide drugs that’s where I would stash them.”

Frannie was speechless. “How long has she been doing this?” she asked, once she found her voice.

“Since I moved in. She doesn’t make a secret of it. She pulls everything out of my drawers and closet, looks under my mattress, trashes my whole room. It takes me a couple of hours to clean it all up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“It’s embarrassing!” she said. “It’s one of the reasons I hate her.”

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