In the end, the score was even. Rick was no more out of breath than his former employee as they headed into the locker room.
“I wish you’d reconsider this baby thing,” Mark said as they sat, a bench apart, untying the shoes that they left in the lockers behind them in between these Friday workouts.
Half an hour had passed since either man had said a word to each other.
“‘This baby thing,’ as you put it, isn’t negotiable,” Rick grunted.
“It’s ludicrous, man. You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”
Disappointment? That would be a step up from the hell that had been his constant companion since he’d lost Hannah the previous fall.
A darkness that had dissipated, for hours at a time, since he’d heard about the orphaned baby living half an hour away from him. He was meant to do this.
“You really think they’ll give a baby girl to a single guy? Come on, man, they don’t even like to give them to couples who are living together and not married, let alone to a man living alone.”
Rick didn’t bother to respond. He wasn’t just a man. He was Carrie’s uncle.
He stripped off his shirt and shorts, dropped them in a pile in front of his locker and strode to the shower.
The two men had just secured their lockers when Mark spoke again.
“It’s not fair to her, either, is it?” he asked, his chin jutting as he faced Rick across the bench. “To be a stand-in for what you lost?”
“No one, I repeat, no one, will ever replace Hannah.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Mark’s gaze was filled with an empathy the two men didn’t generally share with each other. “You think I don’t know that while you might be breathing and moving, you’re no longer alive? I watched you dust yourself off back in high school, each time you got moved to another family. And then again when Sheila took off. You’ve done it again. You go to work, you rule with your firm but fair hand, but you’ve got no heart.”
“Then you don’t need to worry about me using someone else’s baby to replace my own, do you?”
“I’m worried that you’re going to take a little girl from the chance of a loving, two-parent family, and bring her to a house of grief.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t think I’d stand a chance getting her, isn’t it?”
“Ah, Rick, come on. This is me. I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah.” Rick was the first to drop his gaze. “I’m kind of worried about me, too. But everything else aside, man, rest assured, I’m positive this is the right thing for me to do.”
Grabbing his keys, he headed for the door.
“MA, DO NOT LET Uncle Sam make you feel guilty about that necklace.” With Carrie on her hip, little newborn William sleeping in his car seat carrier on the floor, and three-month-old Michael napping in a swing, Sue used her free hand to straighten up the family room Saturday morning. Picking up toys. And talking into the Bluetooth her parents had bought her for Christmas the year before.
“That’s what your father says, too,” Jenny told her, “and I know you’re both right. But I’ve spent a good part of my life wishing Sam and I were closer. Looking for something I could do to show him how much I love him. And…”
“He had no business assuming that Grandma’s diamond necklace would go to him.”
Michael sighed, but didn’t wake up.
“Well, he did, actually,” Jenny said.
“We had dinner with your aunt Emily and uncle Sam last night,” Luke added. “He’s ordered Emily and Belle to have nothing to do with Adam and the rest of the Frasers, and wanted your mother to agree to stay away from him, as well—”
“Which, of course,” Jenny interrupted, “I didn’t agree to, but it turns out that our dad told him the diamond would be Sam’s when both he and mom were gone.”
Our dad. Those words took on a whole new world of meaning now that they knew Robert had been Jenny’s dad biologically as well as legally.
Her mother seemed to be taking the deceit a whole lot better than Sue was.
“But Grandma wanted you to have it,” she said now. “Just don’t do anything rash, Ma. Give yourself time to get used to the idea of not having been orphaned. And I’m glad you told him you weren’t going to obey him. You need to get to know Uncle Adam.”
God, how strange was that? Joe’s dad, her uncle?
She hadn’t talked to her boss since the day of the will reading. Was kind of afraid to, actually.
She’d thought his adult coolness toward her had been because of her rejection in high school. But if that was the case, all would be well now, right? Maybe she’d rejected him because, on some level, she’d sensed they were related.
“I’ve been telling her that the necklace was Sarah’s to give, not Robert’s.” Luke jumped in again, his voice as clear as her mother’s via their high-tech cellular phone. “From the look on Emily’s face, I don’t think she and Belle agree with Sam about staying away from Adam, either.”
“I’m sure Belle wouldn’t,” Sue said, and then added, “Take the necklace with you back to Florida. Don’t leave it in the lockbox at the bank here.”
For all she knew Sam had a key to the lockbox. “Do you have it now?” she asked, as it occurred to her that it might already be too late.
“We do,” Luke said. “We got it yesterday afternoon.”
The appointment with Stan that they’d asked her to join them for. She’d been accepting delivery of William.
She’d had Michael for two days. He’d settled in nicely. But then, he’d been in another foster home since his birth. He was used to commotion.
William, at three days old, was still just acclimating to the world.
“You have to see it, Sue, honey,” Jenny piped up.
Carrie stuck a finger in Sue’s mouth. Sue kissed the little tip. And had a mental flash of a man’s face—staring with longing at his niece. Why couldn’t she just forget the man? “I’ve seen it, Ma.” She forced herself to clear her mind of the man who’d been haunting her. “Every time Grandma wore it.”
“It would help to look at it again, hon,” Luke said. “Help you accept that your grandma is gone.”
“I don’t need help.” Unless they could find a way to get Grandma back to her.
“Sue, love…” Jenny started.
“We’ll bring it when we come for dinner,” Luke finished for her.
Smiling at the baby in her arms, finding solace in the innocent stare she received back, Sue said, “Just bring yourselves. You’ve got a newborn to bathe, Ma.”
Babies. If life stayed about the stream of infants in and out of her life, she could control it. Mostly.
“I sure wish you’d put in for vacation,” Luke said. “Come back to Florida with us for a few weeks. A change of scenery would do you good. This next little while is going to be really hard for you in particular, sweetie. From the day you were born, Grandma was the one person who seemed to be able to reach you—”
“Okay, you guys, really, I’m fine. Can’t we just enjoy our last night together?”
Her parents’ return flight to Florida left first thing in the morning.
And they were as desperate to take care of her as she was to be left alone.
IT WAS SATURDAY, with still no word regarding an emergency hearing to put a stay on whatever adoption procedures were pending for Carrie. Tempted to take a hike to the judge’s chambers to find out if the guy had even seen the paperwork yet, or signed it, or was going to sign it, Rick got control of himself enough to decide against that particular maneuver. The courthouse was closed on Saturdays, anyway. It didn’t help that judges’ chambers were off hallways behind locked doors. Unauthorized people were not allowed back there.
How did a guy take care of a situation when he had no idea what was going on? Rick was going quietly crazy.
Which was why, after another basketball game with a couple of strangers hanging out at the court at the park down the
street, followed by a jog and a quick run of the vacuum, he dialed the number he’d been told was reconnected. Again.
It actually connected this time.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Ricky?” The voice was needy as always. And filled with hope. As though he was her answer. He’d spent his youth trying to be that answer. She wasn’t getting the rest of his life, too. “Is that really you?”
“Yes. It’s me. I missed you at Christy’s funeral,” he said, hearing the sarcasm in his voice even as he told himself to cool it. “Nice of you to show.”
“You were there, Ricky? I—I talked to everyone…at the church. How could I have missed you?”
Rick studied the neat rows patterned into his newly vacuumed carpet.
“I was at the cemetery. For the burial.” He’d driven to the wrong community church. He’d assumed his sister would be buried in the neighborhood where he’d grown up. Where his mother still lived. Instead, it was at a church across from the funeral home.
“I was there, too….”
“Not to watch your daughter lowered into the ground, you weren’t.” His words were biting. Filled with things she had no way of knowing about. Things that, in part, had nothing to do with her.
“No…we left. They said we had to. They lower the casket after the family leaves.” Her voice broke and Rick tried not to feel a thing. He should be a master at it by now, at least where she was concerned.
“Nice to know I had a sister, Nancy.” Nancy. What kid called his mother by her first name?
He’d been about eight when he’d first asked the question.
You’re my friend, aren’t you, Ricky? His mother’s eyes had been slits in her face as she’d tried to focus on him.
Yeah. She’d seemed to need a friend. Though he wondered what being a friend to an adult actually entailed.
You see then, all my friends call me Nancy. She’d smiled. And he’d smiled back. And that was what Rick remembered most about that little interlude.
He’d lost a mother that day. But, hey, he’d gained a friend, right?
“I wanted to tell you, Ricky. I wanted Christy to know you. I really did, but…”
The proverbial “but.” His archenemy.
“But what?” He asked now, telling himself to be kind. Somehow. For himself, if not for her. He wasn’t a mean man. And didn’t want to become one.
“I was afraid….”
“Afraid I’d take her from you?”
Her silence was his answer. Both then and now. She wasn’t going to tell him he had a niece, either. Some things didn’t change.
“I know about Carrie, Nancy.” He wasn’t going to spare her, but managed to soften his tone, at least. “I need to know what your plans are.”
“Oh, Ricky, I was going to tell you. As soon as it’s all official.”
As soon as he couldn’t do anything to stop her?
“I’m going to get her, Ricky. My baby’s little girl—” Her voice broke again.
Rick waited. The woman was grieving over her daughter, for chrissake. No one should have to bear that kind of senseless pain.
“I’ve worked so hard. Ever since we found out a baby was coming.” Nancy listed the steps she’d taken. A list he could have recited for her. “Christy’s going to be watching me. And I’m going to make her proud, Ricky. And maybe you, too?”
“It’s not right, Nancy. You had your chance. Two of them.” He was being harsh. But a baby’s life was at stake.
“It’ll be different this time, Ricky. I promise you.”
I promise, my little man, we’ll stay together this time. I’m going to make it this time. I’m going to make you proud of me….
Rick grabbed his keys. Cell phone in hand, he headed out to the Nitro. He needed air. Sunshine.
“We’ll be a family, Ricky. You, me and Christy’s baby. A real family. Just like we always said we wanted.”
It was the one thing he and this woman had in common, other than a shared gene pool—their desire to be part of a family.
Putting the Nitro in Reverse, Rick unclenched his jaw enough to speak. “Is it for sure, then? You’ve been granted custody? Have you heard something official?”
“It’s not final yet, but Sonia—she’s Carrie’s social worker—said that everything looks good. I’m going to do the visitations and there’ll be another meeting or two, and then the hearing before the judge. Sonia told me that unless something unexpected comes up, Carrie will be mine long before summer.”
“Are you sober?”
“Completely. I haven’t used hard in almost three years. Not even when I heard about Christy. I get tested every week. I’m not going to blow this one, Ricky. I promise. Seeing Carrie’s birth—I don’t know, it did something to me….”
Something birthing her own children hadn’t been able to do? Putting the Nitro in Drive, he stepped on the gas.
“Then losing Christy…This is my chance, Ricky. My last chance. I know it with every bone in my body. I have to give this baby everything I couldn’t give you. Or Christy.”
Like that was ever going to make up for the two lives she’d already harmed? One beyond repair?
“I was at the club last night,” Nancy said, her quiet tone not a familiar one. “James said someone was there, looking for me. A man. From his description, it sounded like you. Was it you, Ricky? Were you looking for me?”
“Probably,” he said into his cell phone, when it appeared the woman was going to wait until he’d given her what she wanted.
“We are going to be a family this time, son,” Nancy said. “I don’t blame you for your doubt. And I’m prepared to spend the rest of my life showing you that I mean what I say. I will succeed this time.”
If he had a dollar for every time he’d heard those words, for every time he’d believed them, he’d be rich. No happier, but rich.
“When’s your court hearing?”
“April tenth.”
Three weeks. That didn’t give him much time. Stopped at a light, Rick signaled a lane change, and as soon as green appeared, he cut over, making a right and then another one, heading south of town.
“Would you go with me, Ricky? You don’t have to vouch for me or anything, but it would mean so much to have you there.”
“What time?”
“Ten o’clock. Can you get off work?”
Get off. He was assistant superintendent. Who would he ask? Himself?
He couldn’t blame her for not knowing that. For knowing nothing about him. He’d carefully guarded his life to ensure that she didn’t.
“I don’t know.” He gave the only answer he could.
“Wait until you meet her, Ricky. I’ve only seen her a couple of times, and in pictures. But she’s special. An angel. Our angel.”
At what cost? Her mother’s life?
“Call me if anything changes,” he said. “Or if you hear anything else. At all.”
“I will.” Then she added, “What I did to you, the way I let you down, that’s the worst part of my life, Ricky. You know that, right?”
Worse than your daughter’s suicide? “It doesn’t matter. I made it through, and have a good life.” Good being relative. He had a decent job he enjoyed. A nice home. Enough money.
“I’m very very glad you called.” He heard the tears in her voice and felt a little sick to his stomach.
“Just keep in touch.” He almost choked on the words.
“I will. I love you.”
She needed him to tell her he loved her, too. He opened his mouth, but just couldn’t say the words.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE’D BEEN OFF THE PHONE from her parents less than fifteen minutes, not nearly enough time to deep breathe her way back to calm, when someone knocked. With Carrie on her hip, Sue did a visual check of her sleeping young men and pulled open the door.
Rick Kraynick, looking too good in jeans and a button-up denim shirt, stood there.
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head,
swinging the door closed again. She was already having enough trouble getting the man out of her thoughts.
“Wait. Please.” The hand administering resistance against the solid wood panel wasn’t violent. Or particularly pushy. But it was firm. “I need to speak with you.”
There was something about him. A sense of vulnerability mixed with toughness that she couldn’t ignore.
And she couldn’t give in to it, either.
“You know my number.”
“In person,” he said. “I need to speak with you in person.” He swallowed, his eyes beseeching her far more than anything he could say. “Please.”
“We’ve been through this, Mr. Kraynick. Talk to social services. Or better yet, get yourself into some kind of counseling. You don’t seem to be able to take no for an answer.”
“I called my mother.”
Christy’s mother. Carrie’s Grandma. Sue didn’t want to care. She repositioned the baby, holding her up against her, with Carrie facing back into the house.
“You have to leave now.” She wished she felt the conviction behind her words.
With a glance behind her, Sue verified that both boys were still sleeping. Chances were that wouldn’t last long. William was eating every two hours.
All night long.
As well as during the day.
And Michael wasn’t sleeping through the night yet, either. Or at least, if he was, he’d stopped since his move to a new home. Which meant, since she also used her evenings to do Joe’s bookwork, Sue was coming off a night with very little sleep.
“My mother just told me she’s adopting Carrie,” the man said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I can’t discuss that with you.”
Dressed casually today, he looked no less serious about himself. Or his business. He had no less effect on her. Sue rubbed Carrie’s back, bobbing to keep the baby entertained.
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