Her Mother's Shadow by Diane Chamberlain Page B

made a few minor changes, and she was still clear that she wanted you to be Mackenzie’s guardian.”
    â€œIt doesn’t make sense,” Lacey said. “I’m sure she never thought she’d die this young. Maybe she just wasn’t thinking.”
    â€œMs. O’Neill, she and I talked about it at length,” the attorney said patiently. “I suggested her mother might be a better and more logical choice, or failing that, the parents of one of Mackenzie’s friends, perhaps, but she said she trusted you to be the same sort of mother she had been.”
    Lacey started to cry, moved by the sentiment and yet frightened by its meaning. Jessica had been a good mother. A superlative mother. She wanted to tell this stranger how motherhood had forced her to grow up quickly, how beautifully Jessica had risen to that challenge. But she would never be able to get out all those words.
    â€œMs. O’Neill? Are you still there?”
    â€œYes.” She reached for a tissue from the box on her worktable and pressed it to her nose. “I’m here.”
    â€œI suggest you plan to stay out here a few extra days when you come for the funeral so that you and I can take care of the necessary paperwork. And more importantly, so you can get to know Mackenzie better before taking her back with you.”
    Bring her back? To Kiss River? The sense of panic was so strong that she could barely breathe. She didn’t want todo this; she had never wanted a child and certainly didn’t want one thrust on her when she was so totally unprepared. Her thoughts shamed her, yet if someone could tell her how she could get out of this new and unexpected responsibility, she would jump at the chance.
    â€œI don’t know if I’m suited to be anyone’s mother,” she said, more to herself than to the lawyer.
    â€œDo you think Jessica was more suited at the age of fifteen?” he asked.
    â€œThat’s not the point.”
    â€œThis can’t be forced on you,” the attorney said. “If you can’t take on the guardianship of this girl, we’ll have to work out some other arrangements.”
    Jessica had wanted her to do it, to be Mackenzie’s mother. She’d been adamant about it, the lawyer had said. She knew the other options open to her and she’d chosen her. Lacey thought of the little trinkets she’d wrapped the previous day to send to her friend. The gel pens and jigsaw puzzles suddenly seemed as insignificant as a grain of sand on the beach, silly gifts for a woman who would trust her with the life of her daughter. She had the ability to give Jessica a far greater gift—her life, her dreams for the future, her freedom.
    â€œI’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll bring Mackenzie home with me.”

CHAPTER 12
    O ne of Jessica’s friends, a very young-looking woman named Amelia, met Lacey in the baggage area of the Phoenix airport. She was holding a sign that read “Lacey” in huge red block letters. Once Lacey introduced herself, Amelia hugged her tightly, and Lacey let herself remain in the embrace for a long time, breathing in the scent of the woman’s dark hair, knowing she was finally connected to someone who felt her loss as deeply as she did.
    â€œI’m so glad to meet you,” Amelia said as she let go of her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her voice was sweet and high-pitched. She looked about twenty-two and sounded fifteen. Her nearly black hair was long and swung free around her shoulders, and freckles were spattered across the bridge of her nose.
    Lacey had to rack her brain to remember if she’d ever heard Jessica talk about this particular friend. She supposed she had. Jessica had been one to say “my friend this” and “my friend that,” rather than speak of them by name.
    â€œSame here,” she said. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have metunder better