A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family. Kathleen O'Brien
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to Carrie—to make her into something she wasn’t? To prevent her from being as complete? To understand herself. To know what she came from? It was very clear he intended to keep the little girl from ever knowing her grandmother.
For that matter, was he hoping to keep the truth of Carrie’s mother from her, too? Was he just going to pretend that Christy hadn’t been a teen addict who’d struggled to get herself clean for the sake of the baby she’d adored?
And why, since he’d behaved inappropriately, did Sue feel guilty for kicking him out?
Yeah, the man had had it rough as a kid. He’d lost a sister he’d never met. He’d suffered. Didn’t everyone?
If his mother was as he said, he had valid points.
But he shouldn’t be airing them with Sue.
She passed the potatoes when her father asked. Cut her chicken. Pushed food around on her plate.
She’d never met a man she couldn’t stop thinking about.
Sue made it through dinner mostly because her parents were happy just being with her. They didn’t require scintillating conversation. And because they were grieving together.
And after dinner three babies needed baths and feedings while her folks were there, which left little room for meaningful conversation.
As she washed and dried little limbs, Sue tried not to think about Rick Kraynick. He’d been up-front with her from the beginning about who he was and what he wanted from her. And she’d been rude.
That wasn’t her way.
If his adoption petition was considered, he could very well be back as a legitimate visitor. Someone she would watch. Sonia was going to want her opinions. She was going to have to be unbiased. Kind. Looking out strictly for Carrie’s best interests…
Her father was on a ladder in the kitchen, changing a bulb that had burned out just that morning, when she and her mother came out of the bedroom with three clean and kicking babies.
“I’d have gotten to that,” Sue told him while, with Carrie on her hip, she gathered three bottles to fill with formula.
“Now you don’t have to,” he said, climbing down. “You’ve got some condensation on the window in your family room,” he continued. “Which means a seal has come loose. It’ll need to be replaced at some point.”
“Is it a safety issue?”
“No, but eventually it’ll cause water damage to the drywall.”
Eventually, she’d replace the window.
“And I took care of the drip in the sink in your bathroom. It just needed to be tightened.”
“Thanks.” She handed a bottle to her mother. And one to her father, who took Michael and sat in the kitchen chair next to his wife’s. Sue grabbed Carrie’s bottle and joined them.
“I really don’t feel good about you being out here all by yourself,” Luke said. He and Jenny exchanged “the glance.” Sue prepared for another two-against-one onslaught of loving concern.
“Are you seeing anyone?” her mother asked.
“No.”
“It’s not healthy, Sue, a woman of your age spending every waking moment with other people’s babies.”
“They’re my babies while I have them. And it’s my job.” One of them.
“You know what your mother’s saying.” Luke adjusted the nipple in Michael’s mouth. “You should be getting out. Having some kind of social life.”
Thinking about getting married.
“I’m perfectly happy as things are.” She included both her parents in her glance. “Marriage worked great for you guys, but I’m just not interested. I don’t want a husband. I don’t miss not having a man around. And if I were to enter a relationship not really wanting it, it would never work.”
They’d been through this before. Every single time she saw them.
“This is the twenty-first century, guys,” she said softly. “I don’t have to have a man to be complete.”
“Don’t you get lonely, honey?” Jenny asked.
“With this brood? Are you kidding?” Setting down her bottle, she lifted Carrie to her shoulder, gently patting the little girl’s back.
Her mother already had William up on her shoulder. Sue breathed a silent sigh of relief as Jenny and Luke exchanged another look. The one that said they’d let the issue of Sue’s lifestyle ride for now.
“We brought the necklace for you to see,” Luke said half an hour later as the threesome walked down the hall together after having laid the babies in their cribs.
“Dad, really, I’ve seen it a hundred times.”
As they entered the family room, Jenny went for her purse, pulling out the familiar black velvet box.
Sue turned away. “I do not want to see Grandma’s necklace.”
Grabbing her hand, Jenny pulled her down to the couch. Luke sat on her other side. “Grandma’s gone, sweetie,” her mom said.
“I know that.”
“Your father and I—” Jenny and Luke placed their hands over Sue’s “—we know how close you were to her, how badly you must be hurting.”
“I’m fine,” Sue said, not moving.
“We…oh, honey…” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears.
“What your mother is trying to say is that we understand and we’re here for you,” Luke stated.
“I know that.”
“Denial is the first stage of grief,” he continued.
Okay. She wasn’t denying anything. She just wasn’t like them, needing to cling to each other…
“We’re worried about you here all alone, with no one to see you through this difficult time.”
Sue jumped up. “Ma, Dad…” She stopped. Took a breath. Lessened the intensity of her tone. “Really, I’m going to be all right.”
They shared “the glance” again.
“Look, I promise I’ll stay in touch. And Belle’s here…”
“Just don’t underestimate the effect this is having on you.” The seriousness of Luke’s glance got her attention more than his earlier worry had. “You’re too much like me,” he said. “You take on more than you should. You think you can handle anything.”
What other option was there?
But she knew what her dad was saying. He’d retired early from his banking career because of stress-related high blood pressure. A condition that no longer existed, thank God.
“I’ll be careful, Dad. I promise.”
One thing she’d learned about herself several years ago, she wasn’t Wonder Woman.
DRESSED IN GYM SHORTS and a muscle shirt, the same clothes he’d worn lifting weights in the spare bedroom an hour before, Rick sat in the dark on the settee in his bedroom, looking out over the city from the wall of windows. The house wasn’t big. Wasn’t opulent. But it had these windows.
And a fenced-in grassy yard that had been perfect for a little girl to play in.
Ten forty-five.
Rick sat, looking for a plan.
It had something to do with the natural, sexy woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. But so far, the details wouldn’t come to him.
So he sat. He stared.
He