A Daughter's Trust

“I couldn’t believe it when she turned me down.”

Sue paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “I can’t believe it, either.”

“Turns out I was just her current adventure. She had no intention of marrying anyone. Of settling down. And even if she did marry eventually, it would be to an adventurer, not a schoolteacher.”

“What a bitch.” Sue wanted to snatch the words back the second she said them.

Until she saw the slight tilt at the edge of Rick’s lips.

“Sheila was a wanderer. A nurturer, but a wanderer. She couldn’t help that any more than you and I can help who we are.”

Any more than Sue could help the fact that she was a distance runner when it came to relationships. She had to keep her space. And the second someone got too close, she ran. Not much different from a wanderer, Sue thought, chilled.

“She said that if she stayed, if she married me, she’d always be yearning for more. The first few months of her pregnancy, she really struggled with all of it. Trying to fit into the role of wife and mother. She helped me shop for the baby. Picked out furniture and every baby accessory she could find. Made a nursery out of the spare bedroom in the apartment we’d been sharing. But the closer we got to Hannah’s birth, the more panicky she became.”

Sue chewed, but was having trouble swallowing.

“I hoped that when Hannah was born, the miracle of her birth would convince Sheila that she wanted to stay with us. I counted on there being some kind of motherly instinct that would offset whatever else pulled at her.” Rick sat at the table but he wasn’t eating. “But I knew, ten minutes after Hannah was here, that Sheila had to go. She hardly looked at her. Didn’t want to hold her. At Sheila’s request I packed her stuff while she was in the hospital. Her sister came over to pick it up. When Sheila left the hospital, she left alone. And I haven’t seen her since.”

“Not even when Hannah was killed?”

“Not even then.”

“Does she know?”

“I sent a wire to an overseas address I had for her. She called, left a message. She was saddened, hurting for me, but couldn’t afford to get to the States. She didn’t leave a call-back number.”

“And you haven’t heard from her since?”

“No.”

Sue pushed back her not quite empty plate. Like Jo Fraser, these women had just walked away?

Sue might not want a marriage and children of her own, but if she had a child…

And she’d certainly never turn her back on family. Heck, she put up with Uncle Sam. Family was family. Even when they let you down. Hurt you. Lied to you…“I don’t get people.”

“Yeah, me either. Don’t even try anymore. I gave that up when I was about ten.”

“So was it hard, raising a little girl on your own?” Sue wanted to know everything about him. Not to commit herself to him. But to know. And that scared the hell out of her.

“It was rough at first. I was twenty-four, in my first job, and learning about feedings and diaper rash all at once. But after those initial few months, it was surprisingly easy. Hannah was a happy baby, a great kid. Those years with her, they were the greatest. Every day, every hour, brought something new and good. Even if it was only sitting there on the couch at night with her head against me as she slept. I was happy. And if I never have another moment like that for the rest of my life, I’ll still die knowing I had the best life had to offer.”

Sue could feel the strength of his passion.

And could feel the emptiness of her own existence where those happy moments had never been.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PULLING THE BLACK, low-cut, long-sleeved T-shirt down over her one lacy bra on Thursday night, Sue reminded herself not to be a fool. Her jeans were low-cut, too, leaving a sliver of flat stomach showing. She thought about shoes, but couldn’t go that far out of her comfort zone. She stayed barefoot, as usual.

And just before leaving her bedroom, she pulled the elastic band out of her hair, running a brush through the long blond strands to give them some semblance of life.

No makeup. No perfume. With only babies to dress for, it had been so long since she’d bought cosmetics she wasn’t sure what she had was even good anymore.

After dinner the night before, Sue had had to hurry home to get the children to bed. But she and Rick had talked on the phone long into the night. Mostly heavy talk. About life. And death. And what it might all mean. They hadn’t come up with anything definitive, no answers for the mysteries, but it had felt damn good having someone to talk about them with.

Someone whose thoughts she found fascinating, and similar to hers at the same time.