A Daughter's Trust

He wasn’t the baby’s father yet. He might not ever be. Sue was driving herself crazy with thoughts about him and Carrie. And with trying not to do so.

He wanted the baby. And tonight showed that he could be incredibly gentle and kind with her. But Sue had known he would be. What worried her was that in all of his talk about getting Carrie, he’d never once mentioned that he wanted her for himself, or talked about the joys of being a father. He’d talked about getting Carrie so that he could keep her from his mother, who really did want her and might be a wonderful mom this time around.

Sue also feared that Rick hadn’t had time enough to recover from Hannah’s death. To deal with that grief. She was afraid he was using Carrie to block it.

“All done!” She listened to him half sing the words. And heard the babbled reply. Carrie was giving her rendition of a giggle. Flirting.

“We’re done.” Rick appeared in the kitchen archway a couple of seconds later, with Carrie on his hip and her empty bowl in his hand.

Sue met his gaze, connecting to him even while telling herself she wouldn’t. “She likes you.”

“I hope so. She’s amazing.”

Sue finished cleaning up, checked the clock and reached for her charge. “Bath time,” she said.

Rick didn’t let go.

“Your visitation was from four to five. It’s five after.” She was being a bitch. She wasn’t proud of that fact. But she couldn’t give him special favors. Visitations times were strictly adhered to.

Rick turned over the infant. “May I at least stay to kiss her good-night?”

She tried to tell him no. But those green eyes held depths she understood. And couldn’t deny. “Yes.” And if Nancy Kraynick asked to stay past visiting hour, she’d grant her request, too.

Sue was an emotional mess when Rick followed her out to the living room after she’d put Carrie down for the night.

How had she ever thought they could separate “them” from “him and Carrie”? As though he was two different people.

Or she was.

“Okay, that’s done,” he said, standing in the middle of the room. “Visitation’s over. Can I just be Rick again?”

If only it were that easy.

Or in any way possible.

“I don’t know how to do that,” Sue told him. “I mean, what are we doing here? Being playmates? For how long? When does it end? How do we know when it’s time?”

“I’m okay with playmates, if that works for you.”

Of course it didn’t work for her. Was the man an idiot?

If he was, he was no more idiotic than she’d been. She stood with her back to him, trying to decide what to do next. Disinfect the changing table, put clean sheets on the bassinet or rearrange the furniture. “I’m not a toy.”

“Sue.” He took her hand, pulled her around to face him. “I was merely repeating your words back at you.”

She studied him. And nodded.

“I don’t mind being your playmate, but I am also your friend and whatever else you’ll let me be.”

“See,” she said, making herself face him down before she started to cry again, “that’s the problem with you. You don’t know how to keep your distance.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Damn him. Did he have to be so…so…

Right?

“Look, Rick, I’m tired. The twins took more out of me than I realized. And I’ve got accounting work to do. It’s probably best if you go. For tonight.”