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