“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m no shot at all.”
“My mother was a user,” he said out of the blue, reminding her of Joe when he spoke about his father—Sue’s uncle now. With seemingly no emotion, as if he didn’t care. She wasn’t convinced.
Joe, her cousin. Uncle Adam. Uncle Daniel. Grandma lying to her all her life. Grandpa being unfaithful. Her maternal grandmother giving away her mother, but raising two sons and a grandson. Grandma Sarah’s diamond shockingly going to her mother instead of to Uncle Sam.
Even after twenty-four hours Sue still couldn’t quiet the cacophony.
Shaking her head, she tuned back in to the conversation at hand. And wondered why it was still taking place. The man should never have called. His life, his mother’s life, had nothing to do with her.
Was he some kind of crackpot, after all?
He was still talking.
“The point is,” he said, “that while I was in and out of her life growing up, I didn’t know her that well. Which is why I was not even aware she’d had another child, that I had a sister, until last week,” he continued, almost as though he was reading to her from a storybook.
A sad one. As an infant, Rick Kraynick could have been any number of her babies.
In a quiet moment, with Camden’s few things packed, his long, furry snake rattle on top of the bag, ready to hand to him as he was carried out the door, Sue sank down on the couch in her family room.
“All the more reason you should talk to her,” she said, though she still wasn’t going to get involved. “Christy’s very sweet. And frankly, could use your help. She’d probably be overjoyed to know she has a brother, that you care about Carrie….”
“I…you haven’t been told yet.”
“Told what?”
“Christy’s dead.”
She couldn’t have heard him right.
“What?” Sue covered her face.
“She committed suicide last week. Her funeral was Friday.”
No! First Grandma. Now this? What was happening? “I…last week was a bit crazy here….”
Sonia knew that. And since Christy wasn’t due for another visit until the following week, her social worker likely figured there’d been no reason to further burden Sue yet.
“I can’t believe it. I just saw her…”
“I got a call from the police.” He sounded weary. And as confused as she felt. “They were trying to locate next of kin. She had my mom’s name on her to notify in case of emergency, but the number was disconnected. That happens a lot with my mother. My mother’s last name is the same as mine, and Kraynick isn’t common. When they did a search, my number came up and…”
Oh, God. Christy? Dead? She’d been doing so well. Was so excited about getting Carrie back. “She was only sixteen! It doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m struggling with it all myself.”
Sue’s mind raced, and her heart felt painful jabs at every thought. A child having a child before she had a chance to grow up. But struggling so hard to make it, anyway. Carrie, an orphan. Grandma gone. Joe, her cousin. Jenny having been lied to by her own father her whole life. Never knowing her mother. Sue, never knowing Grandma Jo. And now this stranger, this man, losing a sister before he ever knew her. A young sister.
“Carrie is my niece,” Rick Kraynick said, breaking the silence. “I intend to adopt her. But right now I need to meet her. To make sure she’s okay. To connect with her. Let her get a sense of my presence.”
“You’ll have to go through social services to arrange that.”
“I’m sure you realize that’s not as easy as it sounds. I’m a single male who never knew her mother and without enough proof that I’m family. They aren’t real eager to give me the time of day. For all intents and purposes, the mother we have in common didn’t raise either one of us. All I have going for me is half a set of genes, which has yet to be proven. My lawyer’s on it, but it could be weeks before this is sorted out. We’re filing for a hearing that will stay any adoption proceedings already in process, but there’s no guarantee we’ll be granted the hearing. And it’s not the state that we have to be concerned with at this point, as I’m sure you’re aware. It’s WeCare. And their red tape is worse than the state’s.”
Stacking blocks were strewn around the quilt on the floor, residuals from this morning’s after-breakfast, pre-bath playtime. Both Camden and Carrie could roll over now. She’d be sitting up soon.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kraynick, but—”
“Please,” he interrupted before Sue was even sure what she’d been about to tell him. She had guidelines. Her status as a foster mother rested on them. Because the rules were in place to protect the children.