A Daughter's Trust

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He thought about calling her. But didn’t. There was no point in caring about her needs. It always ended with her no longer sober and his heart deader than the last time.

  Sonia, Carrie’s caseworker, called him the following Wednesday, exactly two weeks after the break-in at Sue’s.

  Rick closed his office door as he answered the call, and then, instead of returning to his desk, moved over to the fourth-floor window across from it and gazed out at the sunny day and down to the people briskly moving on the sidewalk below.

  His heart pounding, he interrupted her spiel about procedures and policies. “Have you made a decision?” he asked, holding the phone with the hand he could raise to ear level. Please, God, let this one go right. Please. Save a baby. Just one baby.

  “Not yet.” He started to breathe again. “But I am calling to warn you, Mr. Kraynick, that we’re leaning more toward your mother.”

  Funny how tension could return in a split second. “How could you be?”

  “Because she meets all the requirements. Her scores are all above average….”

  Scores. So much for Sue’s assertion that they didn’t look at numbers. “What scores?”

  “When we do our assessments we assign scores to each area of interest and concern. Your mother has only two drawbacks. Her age, which isn’t really even a consideration—she’s just a little older than the average parent receiving a baby. And her past drug use. But she’s shown very clearly that that use is in the past.”

  Rick had an idea that the caseworker shouldn’t really have been giving him this information. So why was she?

  Because she really wanted Rick to have Carrie and was looking for a way to help him?

  Or because she felt sorry for him?

  “Your scores are also fine,” she added. “Better than fine, actually. Based on scores only, I’d like to place the baby with you,” she continued. And Rick waited for the “but.”

  “We have an unusual—for us—situation here, Mr. Kraynick. We have two good candidates both related to our charge. So we ask ourselves, looking at the overall picture, who stands to make the most impact on the child?”

  Carrie. Her name is Carrie.

  “I’m not going to give you all of the strengths and weaknesses we’ve weighed,” Sonia continued, “the pros and cons of each side. I’ll just break it down for you this way. You’re a single male. Your mother’s female. The child is female.”

  “Single men adopting children is quite common in the state of California.” He could quote her the statistics, but had a feeling she already knew them. And that they didn’t matter here.

  “But not when there is an equally good candidate, a grandmother who is still almost young enough to be having a child of her own, as an option.”

  “So what are you telling me? That if I were married, I’d get her?”

  “Yes. You’re younger. You’ve had the same job for a longer period of time. Your neighborhood is nicer. You were a stellar parent in the past….”

  Frustration, like bile, rose in him. “And all of that isn’t enough to counteract the fact that I was born male?”

  “Your mother showed a much stronger desire to have the child simply because she wanted her,” Sonia said.

  You only want her so your mom can’t have her. Sue’s words.

  “And we were also concerned about your lack of inability to clean out your daughter’s room. To pack her stuff away. That indicates you’re still in early stages of grief, and perhaps not as emotionally stable as we’d like….”

  He grieved. Hell, yes, he grieved. He’d lost a daughter. Tragically. And far too young. A part of him would be grieving for the rest of his life.

  But he wasn’t nuts. Or unstable. Or even depressed.

  “That wasn’t her room. That was the spare bedroom.” He heard himself excusing what they’d found. “Her room was the one across from mine. The one with the crib now. Carrie’s crib. So I can hear her when she wakes in the night….”

  Maybe it was time to call Darla and have her help him sort through Hannah’s things.

  He resisted the thought. Pushed away the vision.

  And then in his mind’s eye, he saw Sue there, in Hannah’s room, helping him….

  “So you see, while we haven’t come to any conclusions yet, I feel as though we’re getting close and I…well…the question has come up, you’re sure there’s no significant other in your life? Someone who would be playing a significant role in the child’s life? Someone we could interview?”

  “There’s no one.”

  Sonia sighed. “I have another question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you were granted placement, would you allow your mother to visit the child?”

  He bit the inside of his mouth, his fist clenched in the sling. He didn’t want that woman anywhere near Carrie. Didn’t anyone get that? Was he the only one in the city who knew what a danger Nancy Kraynick was to anyone who cared about her? To anyone she cared about?

  “Mr. Kraynick?”

  His mother was Carrie’s grandmother. “Yes, ma’am. I would.”

  “Then let me ask you something else. Have you tried talking to your mother?”

  “About what?”

  “It seems clear that both of you have the best interests of your young niece at heart,” she said. “You both want what’s best for the baby. We thought that, perhaps, if it were possible for the two of you to talk, you could work out a solution between the two of you.”

  “You mean like shared parenting?”

  “Not really,” she said. “We’ll only be granting placement with one of you. Obviously, it’s not the best solution for the baby to live in a split home, since we can avoid it. But maybe you can work out something similar to the state’s standard visitation order….”

  He was shaking his head before she had half the sentence out. “I don’t think so.” He tried to temper his tone. “First and foremost, because I wouldn’t be able to believe or trust any agreement my mother made. And, unlike you, I’m not willing to take any more chances on her.”

  “Very well, Mr. Kraynick, I really do understand. And thank you. As I said, no decision has been made at this time. If anything changes for you, please let me know. And in the meantime, we’ll continue to monitor visitations. I’ll be in touch….”

  Rick pushed the end button on his phone and stood there, cell clutched in his fist, until he figured out the only solution.

  BECAUSE THE BABIES WERE particularly easy on Wednesday, Sue prepared one of Grandma Sarah’s favorite dishes—chicken breasts wrapped with bacon and cooked with a chipped beef, cream cheese and mushroom soup sauce, served over rice—to offer Rick after that evening’s visitation.

  She wasn’t domesticating. But other than a couple of late nights when he’d called and she’d invited him over, she’d seen almost nothing of him other than Carrie’s visitations. She missed him.

  And she’d heard from Sonia today.

  Rick still wasn’t budging about his mother.

  Which wasn’t Sue’s problem. On this issue, Carrie’s best placement could be her only concern. Not helping Rick. Or worrying about him.

  So how did she stand back and watch her lover get hurt?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SUE SPOONED mushroom and cream cheese sauce over the chicken and rice later that night. She’d caught Rick watching her several times during his hour with Carrie.

  And he’d seemed relieved when she’d invited him for dinner.

  He hadn’t said a word about Sonia. But then, neither of them had mentioned his mother, or Carrie’s placement, since the break-in.

  “We’re going to have to talk about it, you know,” she said as she laid a plate in front of him and sat down.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Everything we’ve been avoiding. Your mother. Carrie. You and me. Whatever it is that’s got us here…together…it’s not going to make the rest of the world disappear. And neither is running away.
We’ve got serious issues between us.”

  Rick took a bite, his left hand limp in his lap. His shoulder must hurt. He’d probably overdone it with Carrie. “This is delicious,” he said simply.

  “Thank you.” She waited.

  He cleared his plate without another word. Sue barely made inroads on hers.

  And when the dishes were done he took her hand, leading her into the living room. She was glad she hadn’t eaten much. Her stomach was in knots.

  Rick took off his suit coat, laying it over the back of a chair before he joined her on the couch. “I heard from Sonia today,” he said.

  Sue wasn’t ready. She’d asked for this, and she wasn’t ready. She was going to lose him. Tucking her bare feet beneath her, she picked at a string in the seam of her jeans. “I know. I did, too.”

  Eyes narrowed, he watched her, the six inches between them seeming more like six miles. “So you know no decision has been made yet?” he asked slowly.

  “Yes. But they’re getting close. You scored well.”

  “Based on what Sonia said to me, there seems to be only one solution to this mess.”

  That his mother get custody and he agree to court-sanctioned visitations that would guarantee him the same rights as a divorced father—every other weekend and one night during the week, without being required to pay support.

  Sue’s heart ached for him.

  Suddenly exhausted, she wanted to go to bed. To lose herself in Rick’s arms. And then wake up and take care of her charges.

  “Sue?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yeah. You said there’s only one solution.”

  “After that. I asked you to marry me.”

  She sat still, knowing she’d probably heard him the first time around.

  “In the first place, you’d be able to keep Carrie. Forever. She’d really be yours. And if we marry only for Carrie’s sake, it wouldn’t be the kind of all-in partnership you fear. Although, for obvious reasons, health and example to the kids being the most obvious, I’d require fidelity, but considering our inability to keep our hands off each other for more than a few days, I don’t see that as presenting much of a problem….”

  Sue tried to concentrate on watching his lips move, instead of on processing the words coming out of them, as tension crawled up from her toes, through her legs, into her belly and continued to rise. And spread.

  “We make a perfect team,” he was saying, “as evidenced by the way we handled Jake’s dad a couple of weeks ago. Not to mention Carrie. And then there was Camden, the shooter, and…”

  He wasn’t saying all of this. He just wasn’t.

  “We both love kids,” Rick continued. “Think of how much more you’d get done having a second set of hands around here to help out with them. And to hold you on the nights after they leave….” He licked his lips. They were full. And masculine at the same time. And the way they felt when he opened them against hers…

  “Sue?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Say something.”

  He was still just six inches away. Turned toward her. She could remove his loosened tie, unbutton his shirt from where she sat. Lay her head against his chest.

  “I thought you understood,” she said. “I can’t help you make sure your mother doesn’t get Carrie.”

  That’s all this was.

  “I won’t be taking her from my mother,” he said. “I told you, I’ve already agreed that if I do get placement, my mother will be allowed full access to her, just like any other grandmother.”

  Right. He had said that. And probably would do as he said. But still…

  “I was clear with you from the start, Rick,” she said, her heart racing. “I can’t take on marriage, or full-time parenthood, either. I get claustrophobic just thinking about it.”

  She needed a hot bath. Someplace she could relax. She needed him on the phone, telling her what to do in the bath. Taking her away…

  He was asking something of her that she just couldn’t do. Under any circumstances. She had to hurt him.

  And she loved him so much.

  No!

  Trembling, Sue promised herself she had not fallen in love with Rick Kraynick.

  She wanted an aspirin. Soothing music.

  “I know that’s what you said, and even what you believe, but look at you, Sue. You’re more of a full-time parent than anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve known you for weeks and in all that time you haven’t had one hour just for you.”

  Yes, she had. In the tub.

  “But don’t you see,” she said. “If I need time, have to get away, or even want to stop being a mother, all it would take is one phone call. My work’s important to the system, but there are many more just like me out there, able and wanting to do what I do.”

  “Not according to Sonia. There’s a shortage of good foster parents, and only two others in the city who can do multiple babies full-time.”

  Him and his statistics. His educating himself about every damn thing.

  “The fact remains that if I need out, or need less, I just say so. At any point. I get that choice every single time a new baby becomes available. They ask me if I want another one, with the understanding that I can always say no.”

  That out allowed her to say yes. Every single time. To give. And keep giving.

  Looking to the ceiling, Sue braced herself. “Oh, God, this is what I was afraid of from the very beginning,” she said. And looked back at Rick. “Remember, I talked about having you give me a ring and me having to say no?”

  He started to speak but she cut him off, frustrated. Desperate. “From the very beginning I told you. I’m not like most people, but that doesn’t make me wrong. My life works for me. You’re just like my parents, trying to make me conform.”

  “I don’t think your life does work for you.” His words, offered softly, with more compassion than anything else, weren’t what she’d been expecting. “I think you have such a depth of love that you can’t hold it back, which is why you’re able to care for so many babies, by yourself, for years on end. What you do is amazing. Truly amazing.”

  He wasn’t yelling at her. Telling her about her deficiencies. Not that anyone ever had.

  Except herself.

  “And because you have such a depth of love, I think you need the permanence you’re afraid of. I think that’s why I’m still in your bed. Because you finally found someone you couldn’t turn away.”

  He’d best stop thinking. Right now. Or find himself having been in her bed for the last time.

  Rick would still be her friend, wouldn’t he? He’d be back. He had to be. What they had was different. Special. He felt it, too. She knew he did. And…

  “I don’t think the problem is your inability to care long term, or suffocating under the love of those around you.”

  He was just so damn sure he was right. As though he was inside her. As though he knew…

  “So what do you think my problem is?” Since you’re so wise and all.

  “I think you’re afraid of failing.”

  “What?”

  “You’re afraid that someone is going to need you and you aren’t going to be enough. They’re going to find you lacking. You’re going to let them down.”

  Her defenses dropped out of sheer confusion. “That’s exactly right,” she said, frowning. And meeting his gaze head-on. Finally. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”

  “No, what you’ve been saying is that you get cramped. You have to flee because you get claustrophobic when people care for you. You suffocate under the love of others.”

  Yes. That was right. “And when I get that feeling, and have to have my space, I let them down. I fail them.”

  “Have you ever asked your parents if they feel as though you’ve failed them? Or have you just assumed?”

  Of course she hadn’t. What kind of normal family sat down and had conversations like that? There were certain
things you just took for granted.

  Maybe she hadn’t let them down as much as she’d always believed. But there were things Rick didn’t know. Things no one in her life knew. A dorm room. So much blood…

  “I’m not saying I’m right, sweetie.” Rick’s voice entered her darkness. Pulled her back. “But is it possible that instead of your feelings of claustrophia being the cause of you failing people, it’s your fear of failing people that makes you feel claustrophobic whenever they get too close? Is that possible?”

  She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t know. And it didn’t matter.

  “I can’t marry you,” she said softly. “I’ll hurt you just like Sheila did. Because, in the end it doesn’t really matter which came first. The result is the same.”

  Rick nodded and she felt so badly.

  “I’m Sheila all over again.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said, his frustration evident. “You were honest from the start. But that doesn’t change the fact that I want a family. A wife. A mother for Carrie. More children. I can’t settle for less.”

  She wanted to believe he was seeking Carrie for all the right reasons.

  She wanted to be the woman he was seeking. She wanted to complete his picture.

  But she was not the woman he thought he saw. She’d let him down eventually. And no mater how much her heart was breaking—it was still better to let him go now rather than hurt him so much worse later.

  “And I still can’t marry you,” she whispered, finally finding the strength to tell him.

  WHAT A BUNCH OF HOOEY. He couldn’t settle for less. What in the hell had he been thinking? Settle for less than what? Nothing? Because that’s exactly what he had all alone in his house.

  Before Sue.

  She’d brought him back to life.

  Her and Carrie.

  He’d get Carrie. He had to get Carrie. But that would still leave him without Sue.

  In any capacity.

  And waiting for her to see the miraculous sense in his words, to come begging him to give her another chance, to tell him that she’d seen he was right, and ask him to please marry her, was about as stupid as his great exit line.