Getting Some Of Her Own (19 page)

“I'll look forward to it. Tell me this. Do you think you will ever be able to address me as your father? I know it will be strange for you, but will you try?”

He'd already thought about that, and it wouldn't come off his tongue. “I'll try. It may take a while.”

“I know that, and I'm grateful for what you've given me.”

Susan sat in her office at home going over her finances. As a single woman, any shortcoming would weigh heavily against her chance of adopting Rudy. She should be able to say that she was solvent and debt free with a substantial income. She had no debts that couldn't be paid at the end of the month, and her contract with the Burton woman would satisfy the financial requirements. Her shaking fingers transformed her handwriting into unreadable strokes, so she stopped making notes, got her recorder, and dictated her ideas. Perhaps she should talk with her mother and brother about adopting a six-year-old child, but she knew that no matter what they said, she would proceed with the adoption until she either succeeded or failed irrevocably.

She mused over her obligation to her family and decided to telephone her brother, who lived in Stockholm. The six-hour difference meant that the time in Stockholm was ten in the evening. She dialed his number. “Hello, Jack. This is Susan.”

“Susan! How are you? Everything all right?” He asked that each time she called, reminding her that he had always been protective of her.

“Fine. I'm settling down here, and the more I see of this town, the better I like it. I'm glad I decided to stay. Jack . . . You remember about my operation. Well—”

He interrupted her. “There's a problem with that? You just said you were fine.”

“I'm fine, Jack, but . . .” She paused, for once she heard herself say the words, there would be no turning back. “There's a little girl that I want to adopt. She's six, in foster care, and she's not getting much love. Jack, she's so lovable.”

“You're planning to do
what?
Whoa there. You don't know what you'll be getting into. Now, if you were married—”

“But I'm not, and I won't be, Jack. The man who married me wouldn't have children of his own, unless he was already a father. So, I'm not counting on getting married. Furthermore, I'm not going to get involved with anyone and start hoping. I've accepted my inability to have children, and I'm going to do the next best thing. I love this child, and she loves me.”

In her mind's eye, she could see him frowning and pulling on his left ear as he did in a moment of frustration. “What can I tell you, baby girl? That's a tough one. Have you spoken with Mama about this?”

“Not yet. She's wrapped up in the children of Africa. I'll tell her when it's a fait accompli. I don't feel like agonizing with her. She said she was coming home for Christmas, but she changed her mind.”

“I know. We want her to come here as soon as it warms up. She can't escape reality forever. Mama has to face the fact that Daddy is dead. I know it's hard for her, and we want to help her, but . . . you know how she is.”

They spoke at length, but after she hung up, it bore heavily on her that he hadn't told her to go on and follow her heart, that he would welcome her adopted child into the family.

What would be the point in discussing her plan with Betty Lou Pettiford? Her mother had enough of a burden in trying to adapt to widowhood, something she hadn't managed in almost five years. She closed her ledger just as the phone rang.

“Hi, Susan. This is Cassie. Would you like to come over for a cup of coffee? I bought some scones on the way home, and they're very good.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.” She didn't want Cassie to lean on her, because she thought it unhealthy. To her mind, Cassie's problems didn't even merit discussion. She went into the basement, filled a small bag with pecans and struck out for her neighbor's house
. I'm fortunate in having a friendly neighbor, even if she does get on my nerves a little sometimes. I hope she doesn't want to gripe about her husband's insistence on being a father. Poor thing doesn't know how lucky she is.

Cassie opened the door before Susan knocked. “Hi. Come on in. I want to show you this ad I did for a guitar maker in Bristol.” Her face glowed with the rapture of success. “It's my first out-of-state job.” Cassie grasped her hand and pulled her into the dining room where the design leaned against a vase on the table. “Well, what do you think? Kix never sees any faults with my work. I want your honest opinion.”

Susan studied the ad. As a graphics designer, Cassie knew her business. That much was clear. “Would it make me want to buy that guitar? I don't know, but it would definitely encourage me to learn to play one.”

Cassie's grin blanketed her face. “That's exactly what I want. They're opening a school for beginners in the hope of boosting local sales. Oh, I'm so happy, I could dance.” She went into the kitchen and returned with coffee and scones. “I had to show it to someone, Susan, and I don't think Kix is interested in my work anymore.” She held up her hands as if in defense. “Don't say it. I know it's my fault.”

As usual, Cassie's conversation returned to her unstable marriage. But this time, Susan did not plan to indulge her. “If you persist on reneging on your promise to have children, you'll have to accept that there are many women who will willingly give him three or four children.”

Cassie lowered her gaze. “I know that, and I know he's a man any woman would be fortunate to have.”

“Then don't gripe to me, Cassie. You've got him, and he loves you. I'd be happy for you if you could make yourself do what you know is right. I'm going to tell you something that I've not told anyone other than my mother and my brother. In January, after years of pain and discomfort, I had a hysterectomy.” She ignored the expression of horror on Cassie's face. “You cannot imagine what I would give to be able to have a child. I don't sympathize with you, Cassie. I can't.”

Tears pooled in her eyes when Cassie rushed to her, eased her arms around her and tried to comfort her. She hadn't allowed herself to cry about the operation, possibly because she hadn't shared the experience with anyone face to face. But Cassie's compassion moved her deeply and, within minutes, tears sprang from the eyes of both.

“I could kick myself,” Cassie said after a few minutes. “Mama always said that I don't think about anybody but myself. I ache for you.”

Susan wiped her face with the back of her hand, her one thought being that, at last, they would be genuine friends. “It hurts, but I'm getting used to it.”

“Does Lucas Hamilton know about this?”

She shook her head vigorously. “No, and I don't want him or anybody else to know.”

“Well, he sure won't learn it from me. I won't even breathe it in my prayers. Guess who I saw trying to catch up with Jessica Burton this afternoon? Jay Weeks. She heard him call her, because she was closer to him than I was, but that dame tossed her head, quickened her steps and gave him the wind from her back.”

So Jay was trying to steal, was he? That's what she'd suspected when she found him at the Burton home a few days earlier. “I'm redecorating her whole house, and I suspect Jay is trying to get a piece of the business, but I have a contract with her, and I expect her to honor it.”

Cassie refreshed her coffee cup and sat down. “Not to worry. Jessica Burton is a lady from the old school. She can see straight through Jay.”

Susan thought for a minute. Cassie had lived in Woodmore all of her life. Perhaps she'd have some insight into the enigma that Jay Weeks represented. “Jay stopped by my shop Saturday afternoon and hit on me. Real hard. I thought—”

Cassie's eyebrows went up sharply. “First indication I've had that he goes both ways. Jay's gay. He had a lengthy liaison with a guard at Gourmet Corner, but he carries himself so well that nobody thinks about his sexual preferences. He decorated that lovely reception room at Kix's restaurant, you know, the one where you wait for your table.”

“That's elegant. Somehow, I never doubted his competence. If he's going to be competitive, though, I wish he'd come out in the open with it.”

Susan rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “You're joking. It's Jay's nature to be foxy. He's crooked, too. I'll bet he doesn't even go straight home.”

That comment brought a giggle from Susan. “Now, that's what I call crooked.”

As Susan rose to leave, she realized that she felt lighter, less heavily burdened, though she hadn't solved a problem. Maybe knowing you had a friend helped. But as she waved good-bye to Cassie, she noticed that a worrisome expression had replaced the woman's smile, that her bravura of minutes earlier had slipped away. Indeed, Susan hadn't reached her house before Cassie collapsed in a living room chair.

 

 

Cassie buried her face in the soft leather of the overstuffed chair. Was it too much to ask that she have the life she wanted, a career and the man she loved? Kix could have any woman he wanted, and the damning thing was that the older he got, the better-looking, more masculine, more distinguished-looking he became. It wasn't fair. The older a woman got, the older she looked, and if a woman had children, her breasts sagged, her belly bulged, and her hips began to look like oversized biscuits. Visions of herself with bumpy cellulite thighs and legs puffed up with varicose veins brought tears to her eyes.

“It's not right. I won't do it. I won't. Underneath, he's like other men, and they all want their women to look great.” Her gaze landed on the ad for the guitar. “I'm good at what I do. It's good enough for me, and if it isn't good enough for Kix, I'm sorry.” She didn't believe her own words, and tremors shot through her as she faced the truth.

 

 

Susan walked into Wade School that Tuesday afternoon with her heart aglow, overjoyed that, in a few minutes, she would see Rudy and hold the little girl in her arms. Her feet seemed to sail down the hall to her classroom. Abruptly she stopped, and her heartbeat accelerated. Nathan waited beside her classroom door. Alone. She ran to him.

“Nathan, honey, where is Rudy?”

He gazed up at her with sad eyes. “I don't know, ma'am. My grandmother and I waited for her on the corner from school where we always wait for her, but she didn't come. So, my grandmother went inside and asked somebody about her, and they said Rudy didn't come to school today.”

Susan draped an arm around him, opened the door and let her feet take her into the classroom, but neither her mind nor her heart was in that place. She endured the long hour, helping the children as best she could and, at its end, she took Nathan by the hand and walked with him to Ann Price's car.

“If you learn anything about Rudy, Mrs. Price, please let me know.” She handed the woman a business card. “Here's my number. Rudy must be sick, because she wouldn't willingly miss tutoring.”

“She sure wouldn't,” Ann Price said, her voice laced with concern. “That child can't wait till she gets here. Poor little thing is ready to jump out of this car before I can stop it. And my Nathan's in the dumps, too. I sure hope she comes on Thursday.”

However, on Thursday, Susan's fears materialized, for Rudy did not come to the tutoring class, and Nathan reported that she had not been at school all week. Devastated, Susan waited beside Lucas's town car after saying good night to Nathan and his grandmother. But when she saw Lucas strolling down the steps, she ducked around the car, hurried to her own and drove home.
Come here, go there
was not her style. He said that she used him, and she did. He couldn't do anything about Rudy that she couldn't do, and in the morning, she would urge the principal of Rudy's school to find out why the child was not in school.

At home, she drove into the garage, got out of the car and walked around to her front door. “Oh!” she said just short of a scream, at the sight of a lone male figure standing beside her front door. “Hello, Susan.”

She relaxed at the sound of the familiar voice, but didn't hide her irritation at having been frightened when she asked him, “What are you doing here?”

Lucas strolled down the stone path to meet her. “Waiting for you. You wanted to see me, but you either got cold feet or decided not to risk an encounter with me, and since I'm curious as to which it is, I decided to find out. Is that a good enough explanation?”

She didn't feel like matching wits with him. “Rudy hasn't been to tutoring this week, and she hasn't been to school, either.” Her voice broke, and he moved closer to her, almost automatically as if it were his duty and his right. But he wasn't going to tell her ever again that she used him for her own ends, so she squared her shoulders and stepped back.

“Are you telling me you haven't seen her since last week?”

She nodded. “I saw her Saturday when I took her and Nathan to the museum in Old Salem.”

“You did what? Now you wait a minute. You know that's against the board's rules and probably against the law, too.”

“I had written permission from Nathan's grandmother and Rudy's foster mother. I took them to the museum, to a restaurant and back home. I didn't even take them to my house.”

He pushed back the front of his leather jacket, shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and kicked at the stones beneath his feet. “Now what the hell do you expect me to do with that information? You want me to report you when I know what that will do to you? Are you putting me to some kind of test?”

“Suppose she's sick,” she asked him as if she were oblivious to his words. “Lucas, that child does not have an easy life. There's no telling why she's not at school or what could be wrong with her.” She whirled away from him and made her way to her front door.