Free A Little Learning by Margot Early Page A

think she’s like your mother.”
    “Why?” Challenging.
    Had Lauren somehow worked out the fact that he simply could not speak well of Janine?
    He tried, for his daughter’s sake. “Your mother was highly educated.”
    “That doesn’t mean anything,” Lauren scoffed. “Anyhow, Rory’s been to college.”
    But she hadn’t earned a degree, he’d gathered.
    He tried to keep his mind on the original subject. “Why do you think she is like your mother?”
    “She’s a really strong person, that’s all. A strong woman.”
    “I agree that Rory is a strong woman.”
    “And that Mom was.”
    He said nothing, except, “Let’s drop this subject, Lauren.”
    The teenager glared, and it struck Seamus how much she looked like Janine. His impulse was to phone Fiona at once and tell her to get to Sultan fast. Then he could separate himself from...these feelings. I’m going to say something. I won’t be able to stop myself from saying everything I think about Janine.
    “You were glad Mom died, weren’t you?”
    The accusation seemed to come out of nowhere. Yet Lauren had pulled it from somewhere within, just as if she knew what words would most anger him.
    “No,” he said. “Please don’t say that again.”
    “You didn’t want her to have the gun.”
    He could not believe that Lauren was bringing this up. “Why is this coming up now?” he asked. “And you’re right. I didn’t want her to have the gun. It was stupid.” The thought came out before he could stop it. But once he’d said it, it seemed especially true. “You were the oldest of our four children.”
    “She taught me to shoot it.”
    “What?”
    “She wanted me to be strong, like her.”
    “Your mother wasn’t strong.” There. He’d said it. Stop, Seamus. Leave—walk away from this. You can’t win. “She spent a whole lot of time trying to prove she was tough. But it didn’t make her tough, and it didn’t even make her interesting, and it certainly didn’t make her any friends.” He almost choked as words poured out. “I loved her.” The hardest words. “And I was not glad she died. Lauren, I found her.”
    Abruptly, his daughter’s eyes filled with tears. Throwing her broomstick onto the linoleum like a child half her age, she fled the kitchen. He heard her on the stairs, and then a door slammed. She must have gone into the extra room, the room that would have been hers if she hadn’t decided to sleep with Belle.
    “Dad?”
    He spun. Caleb had come in the back door. How long had he been there? When had he gone outside?
    “Where’s Seuss?”
    “Beau took him. He’s watching Rory and her friends dance with fire. I came home.”
    Seamus considered whether it was safe for a seven-year-old to walk in an alley in Sultan after dark. And whether it was safe for a twelve-year-old to do so.
    “Rory lost Lola,” Caleb said.
    “What?” Seamus couldn’t concentrate on what Caleb was saying. He must talk to Lauren. He must find something to say. Now, her mind must be filled with images of what she thought he’d seen when he found Janine.
    Nausea coursed through him.
    He seldom thought about that discovery anymore. But now the images came flooding back. Why did I say it? Why did I make her imagine it?
    He’d had counseling after Janine’s death—but not recently. The point of counseling had been to talk to another adult, so that he would not talk to his children about what had happened and what he’d seen.
    Caleb was saying something, but Seamus didn’t listen.
    “Caleb, I need to talk to your sister right now. I do want to talk to you, but I need to finish talking with Lauren first. I’ll be back.”
    Upstairs, he knocked on the door of the corner bedroom. “Lauren?”
    Feet on the floor. The door swung open. Her beautiful face was tear-streaked.
    He said, “Forgive me. Please. I’m so sorry I said those things.”
    “You meant them,” she said.
    He couldn’t deny it. “I should never have said them to you.”
    She