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As shock drained the blood from her head, Laurie simply gaped at her mother. Shock faded, replaced by blazing fury. All trace of polite behavior vanished as Laurie abruptly stood up and glared down at her mother.
“I haven’t followed your orders since I graduated high school,” she snarled through clenched teeth. “What the hell makes you think I’ll do it now?”
Laurie noted with a sense of savage satisfaction that Marjorie actually took a step back.
Damien was right all those months ago, Laurie realized. She had made her own life. No one did it for her.
“Get this straight, Mother,” she continued stonily. “Don’t ever forget it. This is my life not yours. You made that quite plain to me years ago. I will not change my plans on your orders.
I am not getting married just because I have decided I want a husband. I am marrying Damien because I love him.”
She paused then drew in a deep breath and plunged on before Marjorie had a chance to retort. “I most certainly would not allow you, of all people, to pick a man for me—not after what you picked for yourself.”
She had the satisfaction of seeing Marjorie blanch at the forced memory of Nathaniel, the traitor.
“You wouldn’t know a real man if you saw one,” Laurie stated firmly. “I don’t need a rich husband. I take care of Stacy and myself just fine. Don’t you dare, at this late stage, tell me how to live. I won’t stand for it. Now, you can be part of my wedding to the man I love or you can go to hell!”
Marjorie looked shocked for a moment but recovered quickly, regally. “How dare you talk to me like that? I raised you never to speak to your elders in that manner.”
Laurie had to admire her mother’s ability to convey so well the image of being insulted beyond belief. Marjorie drew herself up to her diminutive five feet two inches. Despite the fact that she had to look up, Marjorie looked like she was about to have a minion beheaded.
“I know why my father left,” Laurie declared cruelly in an attempt to crack that icy demeanor. “You would drive away a saint. Get out of my life, mother, and stay out.”
Laurie stalked to the front door and defiantly held it open. There was no mistaking the pointed gesture. Marjorie harrumphed and sniffed disdainfully, her nose in the air as she sailed regally through the door. She turned on the doorstep, a fierce warning in her eyes.
“You’ll regret this when that man ruins your life. Don’t come running to me. I won’t be there.”
“Don’t worry, mother. If I was dying I wouldn’t ask you for one last breath,” Laurie shot back and viciously slammed the door in Marjorie’s face.
Jesus! She fumed, her hands curled into fists she barely refrained from putting through her wall.
“God, that woman pisses me off,” she muttered and shook her head in frustration and anger.
Laurie simply did not understand the ice queen who had given birth to her. She certainly had no idea how she turned out so different. But under the fury, even after years of rebellion, lay a deep disappointment in her mother’s constant disapproval. Even now, at almost thirty years old, it still hurt deeply that her mother had no respect, no love, for her. Why had Marjorie even bothered giving birth to a child she so obviously did not want? And what of her father--what part had he played in this family farce—beyond the obvious, of course?
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Deliberately, Laurie pushed it all aside and dived into her wedding plans. Her so-called family was not important. Damien and their life together deserved all of her time and attention.
Part of that planning concerned the invitations waiting on her desk to be mailed. Only family and a few friends made the guest list. Though he had given her the addresses of his relatives, Damien had not expressed any enthusiasm that any of them would bother to attend.
Laurie frowned as she loaded clothes into the washer a few days after her mother had stormed out of her life. Did Damien have the same nonexistent relationship with his family?
Most of them lived less than an hour away but he rarely mentioned them and, to her knowledge, never called or visited. He clearly expected his family to disappoint him.
In her office, Laurie pushed aside her thoughts as she clicked the mouse twice. She entered her access code and in minutes had connected to the Internet, her mind tumbling around various ideas for several story plots. Cyberspace saved her countless hours of library work and tedious waiting periods for unavailable books. She primarily used the Internet for research and e-mail. Out of curiosity, she searched for information on Navy SEALs.