A Daughter's Trust

“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.