A Daughter's Trust

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  And then she sent up a silent prayer for a softening of Joe’s heart. He didn’t even like his dad. And wasn’t talking much to her, either.

  But Sue wasn’t one to be daunted.

  WHEN SUE CALLED RICK Friday afternoon, telling him she had a problem at home and needed help, he was out of the office as quickly as he could grab his keys, inordinately pleased that she’d called him.

  That he was the one she’d turned to.

  He’d had a school board meeting the night before and had been tied up until almost eleven o’clock, but he’d talked to her as he drove home, and for an hour afterward.

  She’d been in bed, and he’d spent a good part of the night wishing he’d been there with her.

  And wondering if there would ever come a time when they’d share a bed. Permanently.

  Rick didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone. He wanted a wife. A partner.

  He wanted a family.

  Sue didn’t.

  He didn’t know what to do about that.

  But some things were working in his favor. Sonia had called to say that she’d arranged visitation between him and Carrie twice a week, Mondays and Wednesdays from four to five, starting right away.

  He was finally going to be able to hold his niece.

  Sonia told him something else, as well. His mother’s visitation had also been scheduled. Even the idea of it made Rick’s blood pressure rise.

  If he could count on Sue to protect Carrie’s future from an addicted liar…

  If he could count on her not to fall under his mother’s spell…

  If only he could count on her, period.

  When she answered the door, Carrie in the pack on her back and an unfamiliar, too skinny baby in her arms, Sue’s hair was falling out of her ponytail, tendrils hanging around her face. There were stains on her blue-and-white-striped, long-sleeved T-shirt. And a blotch on the thigh of her jeans, as well.

  He’d have liked to kiss her—long and hard—but there were obviously other matters pressing. “Thank you so much for coming.” She added, “Would you mind taking him?” She carefully handed him the blanket-wrapped, sleeping bundle in her arms before the door was even fully closed.

  As he took the unknown boy, Rick caught Carrie staring at him. He grinned. And the baby grinned back.

  “His brother just threw up all over the living room floor,” Sue said, leaving Rick to follow her. “I’ve been trying since noon to feed the two of them. They both give it back as soon as I get it down them.”

  “Not uncommon for babies born with addictions,” Rick expostulated. “They’re often finicky eaters.”

  From her place on the floor beside a baby that looked identical to the one he had in his arms, Sue glanced up at him.

  “They have sleeping disorders, too,” he stated. “And tremors.”

  She turned back to the job at hand, gently cleaning up the baby with baby wipes from the canister by her side. The blanket she and the infant were on was covered with spat-up formula.

  With the sleeping brother in the crook of one arm, and a quick caress to Michael’s cheek where he sat in a swing, Rick found a new blanket, a sleeper that looked as if it would fit the fussy infant, and helped Sue restore order to her family room.

  “How do you know so much about babies born with addictions?” she asked when she was finally sitting back on the couch, fussy baby hiccupping, but asleep in her arms.

  “I did some reading.”

  “Recently?”

  “Last night.” When thoughts of her were keeping him awake.

  “Sonia called today,” Sue said after a moment’s silence. “She told me about your visitations. Starting Monday.”

  He nodded. Bit back all the things he wanted to say. About being a father again, about the fact that his mother would be visiting, too. About keeping the woman away from Christy’s daughter.

  Sue probably knew what he was thinking. But she didn’t say anything more, either.

  Rick helped with dinner. And baths. Danny and Donnie—he couldn’t tell which was which yet, but Sue didn’t seem to have that problem—took turns regurgitating their dinner. That was after Sue had finally been able to get the twins to pay enough attention to their bottles to suck from them. They hadn’t done much better with the mashed green beans and potatoes. They’d open their tiny mouths, but didn’t have much interest in taking the food off the spoon. Or swallowing it once it was dumped on their tongues.

  And when all four babies were finally asleep, he followed their foster mother to her kitchen.

  “Why don’t you go shower and I’ll find something to fix you for dinner,” he said.

  “No way, Kraynick,” she retorted, though not with as much vigor as he would normally have expected. “I will not have you waiting on me, spoiling me. And besides, you’re the guest and I owe you hugely for tonight and—”

  “I’m not waiting on you. I’m concerned about my niece getting proper care when her foster mother is so wiped out she can hardly stand up straight.”

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close, kissing her softly.

  “It’s been a long day,” Sue said, after returning his kiss with a hunger that had his blood boiling again. “I’ve had addicted babies before,” she said after a couple of seconds of staring at him. “But never in multiples. It’ll be fine, though. I’ll adjust. I always do.”

  “I’m not doubting you,” he assured her. And he wasn’t. “However, you’re human. And babies don’t understand a long day. I do.”

  She frowned, but didn’t pull out of his arms. “The twins might wake up. As you said, they don’t sleep well and—”

  “I’ll listen for them. And tend to them if they so much as make a peep.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Sue,” he interrupted, turning her and swatting her bottom. “You could have had your shower and had dinner before you by now, if you’d just go.”

  “I don’t like to be told what to do,” she said over her shoulder.

  “I figured that out a long time ago.”

  She stuck out her tongue at him, but without another word headed off down the hall.

  Rick spent the next ten minutes scrambling eggs and making toast and trying not to picture his truculent hostess in her shower, naked, with water running down over those luscious breasts.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SHE WAS SAFE. She hadn’t told him all her secrets. She’d only had sex with him.

  Twice.

  Great sex.

  Fabulous sex.

  Sex like she hadn’t known sex could be.

  But she still had her heart. Control.

  And that was the only reason Sue invited Rick back into her bed on Saturday night.

  And Sunday night, too. Both times having him arrive after the babies were in bed, and leave before morning.

  Rick Kraynick did things to her body she loved. She did not love him. There were no words of commitment between them. No expectation of tomorrow.

  She loved his body naked. And probably told him so a few dozen times.

  She cared about him. She thought about him all the time. She hadn’t even considered calling anyone else for help on Friday when Danny and Donnie were more than she could handle along with Carrie and Michael.

  But she did not love him.

  A counselor came for Michael Monday morning. And the twins were being flown to the East Coast, to their paternal grandparents, who’d just found out about the babies. She was losing three in one day.

  Standing in her living room, with Carrie clutched to her chest, Sue didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d never cried over one of her babies before. Never. Not even the first time she had to give one up.

  She knew the ropes. Was seasoned.

  “Oh, God, what’s the matter with me?” she asked aloud.

  Seven-month-old Carrie pulled back from her shoulder. Put her hands on Sue’s cheeks like she’d done many times before, and frowned.

 
Because she didn’t understand the unfamiliar wetness?

  Or because she did?

  “Oh, baby, I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” she said, choking back another sob.

  “Your uncle’s coming to see you tonight. You, not me. You’re going to officially meet him. He’ll get to hold you.”

  And they hadn’t talked about it. At all. Was he nervous about holding Carrie? Afraid she’d remind him of Hannah?

  Was he eager to hold her, hoping she’d ease the grief of missing his own daughter?

  “I can’t hurt another man.”

  That was her problem. She was afraid of hurting Rick. They were so good together—and together so much, all of a sudden.

  But nothing had really changed. She still wasn’t going to help him in his custody battle against his mother.

  And Sue still wasn’t ever going to commit to a permanent relationship.

  She didn’t know if he’d be sleeping with her that night. Just thinking about him turned her on.

  She was feeling tense because she needed him to leave her alone. But she didn’t want him to.

  Feeling tense because he was making her think about things she’d promised herself never to think about again. To remember things best not remembered. To hurt where she’d stopped hurting a long time ago.

  “I’m a mess,” she told the adorable little girl in her arms. “You wanna be a mess, too?”

  Carrie stared at her.

  “Come on. Let’s go make some cereal with mashed bananas, and I’ll let you try to get some food in your mouth all by yourself.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  JUST WHEN SUE HAD HERSELF convinced she was ready to face Carrie’s uncle, to facilitate his visitation, Joe called.

  “My dad said he’d heard from your cousin, Belle,” he stated without preamble.

  “She’s your cousin, too.”

  His pause was significant. Sue just wasn’t sure what it signified. Rejection or difficulty with acceptance?

  “She wants us all to get together for dinner.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Sue wasn’t surprised. “Why not?”

  “It’s just too…messy.”

  She’d give him that.

  “I’ve got enough to deal with with my ex and her fiancé, and seeing Kaitlin, and now my dad in town….”

  “I understand.” Sort of.

  “I was hoping you’d talk to your cousin. Get her to quit calling my dad.”

  “She’s your cousin, too,” Sue repeated. And then relented. “So your dad doesn’t want anything to do with us, either?”

  “I never said I didn’t want anything to do with you.”

  “You didn’t have to say it.”

  “Look, Sue, I—”

  “No, I’m sorry I pushed, Joe. I’m just surprised at your dad. I’d have thought, with his coming back to make amends and all, finding out he has more family than he expected would be a good thing. My mom’s his sister. His full sister. She really wants to get to know him.”

  “He wants to know her, too,” Joe said with obvious reluctance. “He just won’t go to any meetings without me.”

  Aha. She got it.

  “Put the shoe on the other foot, Sue,” he said. “If your mother was in town, trying to get all buddy-buddy with you, you’d balk. And she’s a great mother!”

  He was right. Of course.

  “I guess we have some family resemblance,” he continued.

  “Oh?” She thought she heard a car. Rick? If so, he was half an hour early. His niece was still in her crib, asleep.

  And Sue hadn’t yet changed out of her banana-smeared T-shirt.

  “We’re emotionally distant. Kind of like the old man, fathering two children with another woman and then leaving her to struggle alone and to live with the secret of her children’s parentage.”

  “I’m a bit angry with him myself,” Sue said. “How could he have raised my mother and never once held her close and told her he was her real father?”

  “Because, as I said, he was emotionally detached. Just like you are. And I am.”

  “He loved us all. From afar,” Sue said slowly. And that’s what she did. What she’d always done.

  Except once. And that time, that mistake, would go with her to her grave.

  RICK HAD NO IDEA what to expect out of Monday’s visit. He’d seen Sue three nights over the weekend, held her, made love to her, and though she’d been passionate and generous in his arms, she’d also been distant.

  They’d talked, but not about anything that really mattered. Not about his mother. Or Carrie. Or the future.

  He remembered the previous night, just before he’d gotten up to leave. “I could spend the rest of my life right here,” he’d said.

  “Don’t get too attached, Kraynick.” The warning had been couched with teasing, but he’d caught it loud and clear.

  “No worries,” he’d assured her. But it was already too late.

  And on the drive home, he’d made himself face the truth. In some ways, Sue Bookman was Sheila all over again. A woman who needed her space. Who ran from close relationships. Like Sheila, she recognized her needs. Knew herself. But unlike Sheila, she’d been honest with him from the very start.

  And maybe Sheila had thought he understood. Maybe in his overeagerness he’d missed her messages. Regardless, he’d been telling himself all day that he was just going to have to stay out of Sue’s bed. But a body come back to life didn’t care much about the future. It was just glad to be alive again.

  As he drove back out to Sue’s Monday after work he had to wonder. What was it about him that attracted women who had to get away? First his mother. Then Sheila.

  And now Sue.

  HE WASN’T GOING TO MAKE a big deal of this. Rick’s hands were shaking anyway when he knocked on Sue’s door at five minutes before four. He’d seen Carrie a few times already.

  He’d seen her.

  But he hadn’t held her. Hadn’t so much as fed her a bottle or raised a spoon to her mouth.

  Sue was dressed to go out, in pants, a matching black blouse and slip-on shoes, when she answered the door. Her hair was pulled back as usual.

  He started to tell her she looked beautiful, but stopped himself. This visit was official. It was about Carrie now.

  About Carrie’s future.

  “Come on in.” Sue’s smile could have been delivered to a stranger on the street.

  “Thanks.”

  He’d been in the house several times. So why did he suddenly feel so awkward?

  “She’s in here. In her swing.”

  Rick felt as though he were entering the room for the first time. He recognized the furniture, the bassinet and toy basket. And it all felt completely new. His gaze went instantly to the baby girl looking around her with curiosity as she gently rocked back and forth in the swing.

  His baby sister’s baby.

  “I’d like to hold her,” he said. And then he looked around him. “Where’s Michael? And the twins?”

  “Gone.”

  “Gone?” Not again. “As in, we’ll never see them again?”

  “That’s right.”

  She didn’t even blink. Her lack of emotion was chilling.

  Until he saw the way her hand was picking at the side of her pants. And Rick wondered, not for the first time, if it wasn’t so much that Sue was distant, as that she was lost. So far lost, she couldn’t find her way.

  Had anyone ever tried to help her?

  Sue stopped the swing. Lifting Carrie out, she gently handed the infant to him.

  “Hey, sweetie,” he said softly as he took the little girl into his arms, smiling easily, when he’d been afraid he’d never get through the moment. “I’m your uncle Rick…” She settled into the crook of his arm as though she’d been born there. Gazed up at him. And smiled back.

  RICK FED CARRIE. Sue kept herself busy in the kitchen. Mashing the chicken and ham and peas
and broccoli she’d bought at the grocery that afternoon before Joe’s call. She put some in the reusable jars she kept in the refrigerator, and the rest in containers for the freezer.

  She did the dishes.

  And kept an eye on everything that was happening over at the table.

  “You’re a good girl, Carrie baby.” Rick’s soft tone brought tears to her eyes. “One more bite for Daddy?”

  He wasn’t the baby’s father yet. He might not ever be. Sue was driving herself crazy with thoughts about him and Carrie. And with trying not to do so.

  He wanted the baby. And tonight showed that he could be incredibly gentle and kind with her. But Sue had known he would be. What worried her was that in all of his talk about getting Carrie, he’d never once mentioned that he wanted her for himself, or talked about the joys of being a father. He’d talked about getting Carrie so that he could keep her from his mother, who really did want her and might be a wonderful mom this time around.

  Sue also feared that Rick hadn’t had time enough to recover from Hannah’s death. To deal with that grief. She was afraid he was using Carrie to block it.

  “All done!” She listened to him half sing the words. And heard the babbled reply. Carrie was giving her rendition of a giggle. Flirting.

  “We’re done.” Rick appeared in the kitchen archway a couple of seconds later, with Carrie on his hip and her empty bowl in his hand.

  Sue met his gaze, connecting to him even while telling herself she wouldn’t. “She likes you.”

  “I hope so. She’s amazing.”

  Sue finished cleaning up, checked the clock and reached for her charge. “Bath time,” she said.

  Rick didn’t let go.

  “Your visitation was from four to five. It’s five after.” She was being a bitch. She wasn’t proud of that fact. But she couldn’t give him special favors. Visitations times were strictly adhered to.

  Rick turned over the infant. “May I at least stay to kiss her good-night?”

  She tried to tell him no. But those green eyes held depths she understood. And couldn’t deny. “Yes.” And if Nancy Kraynick asked to stay past visiting hour, she’d grant her request, too.