A Daughter's Trust

by Tara Taylor Quinn

“So, you’re sure?” Sonia was looking at Nancy.

  “Absolutely positive. My son is an incredible father. A rare combination of nurturing and strength. And this is the best thing I, or anyone, could do for Carrie. No matter what pressures might come along, my son will stand up to them, and be there for Carrie. He’ll love her with everything he has. That’s my Ricky.” She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. And then she took his hand. “Just like he did for me.”

  Glancing from his mother to Sonia, Rick asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Your mother called me on Saturday,” the caseworker said.

  “I had my chances, Ricky,” Nancy told him, without any bitterness in her voice. “I didn’t do so hot as a mother, so I’m going to try my hand at being the best damn grandmother a little girl could ever have.”

  He stared at her. And then back at Sonia. “Are you saying…”

  Her grin now as wide as her office, Sonia nodded and stood, holding out her hand to him. “You’re going to be a daddy, Mr. Kraynick. Congratulations!”

  WHEN HER PHONE RANG on Monday morning Sue wasn’t prepared to see Rick’s number pop up. She hadn’t heard from him since she’d turned down his proposal on Wednesday. And he was supposed to be at work.

  She picked up immediately. “Hi.” He’d be coming over in a matter of hours. Six—not that she was counting. To see Carrie.

  He asked how Sue was. She didn’t tell him she’d been rehearsing the conversation she was going to have with him since he’d walked out of her house. She’d been too harsh. Too absolute. How did she know what the future would bring her? How it might change her? “I’m fine,” she said, but it wasn’t true. “How about you? How’s the shoulder?”

  “A bit stiff, but I’m working on it.”

  “Overworking it, most likely. They said it could take a couple of months or more to heal.”

  “Or it could be fused within a couple of weeks,” he reminded her. “How are the kids? I’ve missed them.”

  “They’re fine. I think they miss you, too. You should have seen them when I picked them up from Barb’s on Saturday. You’d think I’d left them for days instead of hours….”

  “You took them to Barb’s?” Was that possessiveness she heard in his voice? Even a little bit?

  “My uncle Adam had a stroke.”

  “I…how is he?”

  “He’s conscious. He can move. But I guess there might be some other things going on. Liver related. They were going to do tests this morning and then we’d know more.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She was, too. For so many things.

  “It could have been worse. We could have lost him. And I’ve had some time to visit with my folks. They stayed here last night.”

  “They did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did that go?”

  “Well, actually. We played cards. Watched a movie. It was fun.” If she didn’t consider how badly she’d been missing Rick, how scared she was that she’d ruined things between them, and how guilty she felt for all the years of resenting her parents.

  Someday, if she could ever grow up enough, she was going to tell them that. Apologize. And thank them.

  “Listen, the reason I’m calling is…”

  He paused and her heart started to pound.

  “…I wanted to tell you before Sonia did. It seemed, considering, you know, me and you…it just seemed the right thing to do.”

  “What’s going on?” She hoped she sounded at least somewhat normal, while her brain kept telling her, Here it comes.

  “We’ll be coming by together this afternoon.”

  “Okay.” A social worker supervising a visit was not uncommon.

  “To get Carrie.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been given placement.”

  Sue shut down. Just like that. That unnatural calm that settled in when things were too much for emotions to handle. Almost as an outside observer she watched herself.

  “Congratulations!” She gave the appropriate response.

  “I know you don’t approve, but…”

  “Actually, you’re wrong about that, Rick,” she replied, glad to have an honest reply that was also a rational thing to say. “I’ve told you all along that I would be at peace with the agency’s decision. They’re trained and I trust them. I just couldn’t influence them on your behalf. Besides, I’ve seen you with Carrie.” She was babbling. “Even a fool can tell that you’re an excellent father. I also thought your mother was a good choice—all right, a better choice—because she obviously wanted Carrie so badly. And my biggest fear was that you…were only going after Carrie so your mother wouldn’t get her. That you were only trying to replace Hannah. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m taking her home with me today.”

  “Okay.” Funny how a heart could break so quietly.

  “Sonia’s going to call you, but I just wanted to let you know, personally….”

  “Thank you. I’ll have her ready.” Sue hung up. Stood for a moment to catch her breath. To organize herself. That was it, then. She took a step toward Carrie’s room. Tried to remember which toys the little girl favored. And started to cry.

  She’d known Carrie would be leaving her eventually. She’d always known.

  She just hadn’t figured on losing her heart in the process.

  Rick had gained a daughter. And Sue had lost a family.

  Again.

  SUE WAS LOSING IT. Part of her was rational enough to recognize that fact. And to rein herself in. She put on some visiting clothes—navy pants, a white blouse and blue-and-white flip-flops. She left her hair down. Because it looked more professional, not because Rick liked it that way.

  She wore a dab of old makeup. To cover the evidence of tears.

  Carrie had a big lunch. A long nap. A bath. And was wearing a dress Sue’s mom had brought for her from Florida. It was light gray with small white polka dots, a white rounded collar and a little pink bow at the breast. It went beautifully with Carrie’s baby-soft dark hair.

  Her parents were staying at a hotel in the city that night to be close to the hospital. Maybe she should call them. See if they wanted company. With only one baby, she’d be practically traveling alone.

  She’d like to see Uncle Adam. Her mother said he’d been talking some. And had been glad she’d come….

  Rick’s Nitro pulled up the drive.

  This was it.

  Checking to see that Jake was fine in the swing, she picked up Carrie. Walked with her to the door, ready to greet the baby’s new family.

  Just as she always did when turning over one of her charges. It didn’t take long. A few minutes max. The new parents were always eager to get this foster part of their lives behind them and start being a real family.

  She had the door open by the time they got to the walk. Seeing Rick, Carrie started bouncing against Sue’s hip. The baby grinned and, as he approached, reached for him.

  “Hi, princess, Daddy’s come to get you,” he said, holding out both arms to her.

  Sue could see Sonia behind Rick. And Nancy, too.

  She knew the ropes. Had played her part many, many times. Had it down pat.

  But when Rick reached for his new daughter, Sue didn’t let the baby go.

  SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Horribly wrong. One glance in Sue’s frantic eyes and he knew that he had to act.

  “How’s my punkin’?” He continued to croon to the baby without missing a beat, holding on to Sue’s hand with his own, as if he’d meant all along to grab her hand, not to take the baby from her. Then, with his good arm around Carrie’s foster mother, and his other hand still at the baby’s bottom, he stepped back into Sue’s foyer.

  She continued to look at him, pleading with her eyes. And he turned.

  “Sonia? Mom? Do you care if we take a few minutes to ourselves, first? There’s something I need to discuss with Sue.”

  Sonia blinked. Looked from him to Sue. And then she nodded. “Nancy and I can
have a cup of coffee and talk about ways she could volunteer at the agency, if that’s all right with you?” The counselor glanced at his mother.

  “Of course.”

  “We’ll be back in an hour,” Sonia said, and turned from the door.

  Certain that what had just happened was highly inappropriate, Rick made a mental note to thank the counselor for putting humanity above her job. Obviously, the baby was safe. She was with two agency-approved caregivers.

  And sometimes life was bigger than rules and regulations.

  SUE HEARD RICK GET RID OF the others. She knew they were alone. And still she couldn’t release her grip on Carrie.

  “Sue?” He led her to the couch. Sat with her, his arm still around her. One finger locked in Carrie’s grip. “Talk to me, sweetie.”

  The baby, as though sensing that something monumental was happening, began to fidget.

  “I…” Sue was going to give him her usual answer. An assurance that she was fine and could handle anything. She was Sue Bookman. The strong one. The family go-to girl. The one who needed her independence. Her space.

  “Oh, God, Rick…” She started to cry. And then to sob. Ugly, wrenching bursts.

  Rick reached for Carrie. “I’m not taking her away from you, I’m just moving her over to her swing so Jake doesn’t get lonely.”

  She had to let the baby go. For Carrie’s sake. And Jake’s. The babies always came first.

  Bereft without the little girl in her arms, Sue bent over, her arms around her middle, her head to her knees. With gut-wrenching sobs, she was drowning in the release of a decade of pent-up anguish.

  The couch depressed beneath Rick’s weight. He rubbed her back, his voice soothing, though she wasn’t sure what he was saying. If he was saying anything besides promising her she wasn’t alone. Telling her he was there.

  She cried until her ribs hurt, and kept on. Until she didn’t think she was ever going to stop.

  Which was why she’d always been afraid to start.

  When she started to choke, Rick pulled her onto his lap, cradling her like one of her charges, bearing most of her weight with his right arm. With his left, he smoothed hair away from her face. Ran a finger along her neck. Her shoulder. He started to notice the little things. “Come on, sweetie. Talk to me.”

  “Oh, Rick.” She shuddered. Picked at a string coming loose from one of the buttons on his shirt, while tears dripped down her cheeks. “I…can’t tell you.”

  “Of course you can.” Taking hold of her chin, he made her look at him. “This is me, Rick, remember? I’m the guy who understands that you’ll never give him your whole self, but who just keeps coming back anyway.”

  “I was a jerk.”

  “Berating yourself isn’t going to do anyone any good,” he said now. “I just need to know what this is about.”

  Sue could hear Grandma, telling her that all she had to do was speak her heart. To be honest.

  Grandma, who’d kept secrets.

  And that was wrong. Secrets hurt.

  “I had a baby….”

  The words, stark and cold and unfamiliar, hurt just coming out of her mouth.

  Rick quieted. His hand slowed where he’d been rubbing her shoulder. His breathing, even his heartbeat beneath her cheek, seemed to revert to slow motion.

  She wanted to rest. To sleep for a good long time.

  “When?”

  Rick’s question was fair. And what did it matter, now, if he knew? Her secret was out.

  “Almost ten years ago.” She started to cry again when she’d thought she was done. Joe’s daughter, Kaitlin, was ten.

  “Did you give it up for adoption?” That was the obvious conclusion.

  She shook her head. “No.” She had to stop her voice from shaking. Her mind from working.

  “Tell me about your baby, honey.” His voice was kind. Compassionate. And demanding, too. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I—it—I…” She was on the floor, hard tile, cold. All she could see was a toilet. And blood. So much blood.

  “Sue?”

  Rick’s concern stopped her tears. Stopped everything. “I was young and stupid,” she said, her voice thick from crying so much. And then, barely above a whisper, she continued, “The night Joe got married, I slept with this guy. It was horrible. Painful. Degrading. I’d never really even made out with anyone before. When it was over I just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. The guy was long gone. He’d been a visitor to campus, someone I met at a party. I didn’t even know his full name. And he never tried to contact me again afterward. And then a couple of months later, I realized I was pregnant. I didn’t tell anyone. Couldn’t. I was barely eighteen. In my freshman year at State. I couldn’t raise a child on my own, with no way of finding the father…not that I wanted to. If I told my parents they’d make me come home and my life would be over. I decided to have the baby in secrecy—somehow—give it up for adoption, and go on with my life and they’d never know.”

  “That didn’t happen?”

  She shook her head. “I was in this physical fitness class and we were required to jog three times a week. Since I hadn’t told anyone I was pregnant, I jogged.”

  “Didn’t your doctor tell you that was dangerous?”

  “I didn’t have a doctor.”

  His silence said a lot.

  “I killed my baby, Rick.”

  “You did not kill it.”

  “I started to cramp really bad one afternoon after I got back to my dorm from jogging. I tried to call for help, but the pain was so bad, I couldn’t make it to the door. I lost the baby on the bathroom floor.”

  Now that she needed to cry, her tears were all dried up. Along with her heart. He knew now why she could never, ever be trusted to love enough. Why she didn’t deserve all-in love from anyone.

  “All alone.” His two words said it all.

  “Yes.”

  “How far along were you?”

  “Five months.” Enough to be able to tell…“It was a girl.”

  A girl. Finally, the dam broke again. Sue sobbed more quietly this time. Mourning what she’d lost. Her daughter. Herself.

  Rick just held her. Let her cry.

  “Eventually…” she said, sniffling, “…I was able to get to my phone. Dial 911.”

  “And did they tell you at the hospital that a lot of women jog while they’re pregnant?”

  She shook her head. “They said that wasn’t necessarily the reason I lost her, but it was. It happened right after I got back. Women can jog when they’re pregnant so long as their pregnancies are progressing normally. And generally only if they’d jogged before getting pregnant. I was five months pregnant, and I hadn’t even seen a doctor. I killed her, Rick. Killed her with negligence.”

  “No, Sue, chances are you’d have lost the baby, anyway. It just happens sometimes. A life that isn’t meant to be. You didn’t kill anyone. You were a frightened young girl who was in over her head and needed help at a time when you felt there was no one around to help you.”

  She’d lost her best friend—her only real friend—when she’d rejected Joe.

  “It was a miscarriage, Sue. Plain and simple. Twenty percent of women who are pregnant miscarry.”

  Rick and his statistics. Remembered from the birth of his own daughter over seven years ago? Having a walking encyclopedia around was kind of nice.

  “The tragedy is that you were so young. And alone. And didn’t get help to deal with your loss.”

  “I felt responsible. Guilty.”

  “Didn’t they tell you in the emergency room that it wasn’t your fault?”

  “Yeah. And my ob-gyn told me later, too. But I knew better.”

  When Rick chuckled, a world that had turned sickeningly off-kilter righted itself enough for Sue to take in a full deep breath. “That’s my Sue,” he said. “She knows better.”

  “Sometimes I do.”

  “Most times you do. That’s what makes it so dangerous those few times y
ou don’t.”

  “I think I’ve solved the chicken and egg thing with my claustrophobia,” she said softly, not wanting to sit up, to move her face away from his chest.

  “Which came first?”

  “My fear of failure.”

  “Mix that with my aversion to believing anyone is going to stay in my life for the long haul and we make quite a pair.”

  And Sue realized something else. She hadn’t just pushed Rick away. He’d been waiting to be abandoned. To be let go.

  “I know you’ve got this thing about second chances,” she ventured, “but I was wondering if I could have a redo.”

  “On what?”

  “Last Wednesday night. Right after you asked me to marry you. For Carrie’s sake.”

  “Depends on what your answer’s going to be this time around.”

  His voice rumbling beneath her chest was a comfort. And exciting. To be understood, fully understood, and still not be alone…

  Suddenly life had possibilities. The grief wasn’t going to go away. For either of them. But neither of them would be bearing it alone….

  “My answer would be no, I won’t marry you for Carrie’s sake. But if you can change your question, I might change my mind.”

  Rick held her away from him, staring down at her, deadly serious. “I love you, Sue Bookman. I want you to be my wife. I want to raise our daughter, to make more babies with you, and to continue to love those children that need our love for as long as they need us. My question is, do you want what I want?”

  With tears in her eyes, careful of his sore shoulder, Sue crawled up Rick’s chest until her mouth was an inch from his. “Yes, Rick. Oh, yes, I love you, too. And I want the same things you do….”

  Just as their lips met, Carrie screamed for attention and woke Jake up.

  “Starting now?” Sue asked, moving on his lap.

  “Starting now.”

  Holding hands, with a promise in their shared glance for more intimacy later that night, they moved as one to care for the children.

  THE DOORBELL STARTLED them both. “Sonia,” Rick said, watching as Sue finished securing Carrie’s diaper. He picked up Jake, who’d also just been changed. “Let’s go, little man.” Settling Jake in his left arm, which bore the weight without pain, he pulled Sue up against him with the other and walked her to the door, eager to introduce her as his wife-to-be.