A Family For Daniel

After her graduation, they’d married in Atlanta, and she’d gone on to become the most promising of the young up-and-comers at Enterprise Consulting. Then Richard’s arguments that they should have a baby sooner rather than later had begun. And with the arrival of Becky, Richard’s passion for controlling Amy’s life had shifted gears.

He didn’t like the way it looked, having a nanny raising his daughter. Amy was too wrapped up in her career. Her place was at home, taking care of him and their child. It wasn’t as if they needed the money she made. She’d clearly had her priorities out of place, he’d told her.

And so, by the time Becky was in preschool, Amy’s career had morphed into little more than something to occupy herself while Becky was gone during the school day. Amy had passed up one career opportunity after another, even though she’d been more than qualified. She’d watched her peers’ careers eclipse her own, while she was relegated to doing busy work on projects she’d rather have been leading.

She’d consoled herself with her family. With her husband’s money and the financial security that had exceeded her dreams. Richard had assured her she had every reason to be happy. She was privileged. They were the envy of everyone they knew in Atlanta’s supersuccessful business community. No matter that she became more and more terrified of her husband with each passing day.

When she’d finally woken from the haze of her abusive marriage, she found she’d been living a thinly veiled nightmare that was going to get worse before it got better. Not only did she have to find the strength to stand up to a man she’d let trample her dignity and self-esteem for years, but her best shot at financial independence was finding a way to be taken seriously in the world of corporate business, where she hadn’t competed in years. And Amy hadn’t just done this to herself. She’d dragged her daughter through hell right along with her.

How could she have been so wrong about what life had in store for her? Every mistake she’d made had been entirely her fault, because she hadn’t wanted to see the truth in the people and things she’d built her happiness around.

Becky was right to blame her for being too much of a coward to leave Richard sooner. Amy had stayed too long. Her daughter had seen and heard too much.

“Amy!” The front door flew open. Her mom rushed out, arms wide. “You came. Why didn’t you let us know?”

Amy dropped everything a split second before she was engulfed in her mother’s sweet-scented hug. She couldn’t hold Gwen close enough.

“I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to get away,” she explained. “I had a lot to take care of this morning. As it is, I’m waiting on a conference call my assistant’s patching through to my cell.”

She straightened the collar of Gwen’s faded oxford shirt.

“This was Grandpa’s, wasn’t it?” She smiled at her mother’s shrug. “That’s one of the things I love about you, Mama. You never stop wearing hand-me-downs, no matter how many new outfits I buy you.”

“I adore my old things. They’re like memories I get to carry around with me all day.” Gwen lifted Amy’s garment bag and headed toward the house. “It might do you some good to look through your old closet. I bet there’re lots of treasures hiding in there.”

“Yeah. Everything will be just swell, as soon as I throw on a pair of my skintight jeans from high school.” Her briefcase in hand, Amy followed in her mother’s wake. “Is Becky home?”

“Got off the bus about ten minutes ago.” Gwen held the door for Amy to enter in front of her.

“Did things go better today?” Amy took the garment bag back and set it aside.

“She’s in the kitchen having a snack. You should probably ask her yourself.”

Amy turned from studying how much the walls of the tiny living room needed fresh paint. “That bad?”

“About the same.” With another sigh, her mom lead the way the few steps to the kitchen.

Becky was snacking on milk and a plate of Gwen’s freshly baked cookies.

She looked so grown-up. So beautiful. So much like her father, with her dark hair and eyes, and her olive complexion. Had she gotten taller in the few weeks Amy had been away? Amy thought back to her last overnight visit, a hurried Saturday full of trying to help Becky understand why things had to be this way for now. Amy couldn’t conjure up a clear picture of how her daughter had looked then. All she could remember was Becky’s tears and shouts, and her own fear that her best was never going to be good enough.

“Hey, baby.” She knelt beside Becky’s chair.

Vacant eyes lifted, then shifted back to the plate. Becky dunked a cookie into her glass.

“I missed you.” Amy ran her hand down her daughter’s delicate arm.

“Whatever.” Becky pulled away from her grasp.

Amy glanced over her shoulder. Gwen’s slight smile encouraged her to continue.

“Grandma’s been telling me a little about what’s going on at school. I thought maybe we could talk about it this weekend. Maybe come up with a few ideas for making all this work better for you while you’re here.”

“You’re staying the whole weekend?”

Their gazes connected again. But the doubt and hesitation filling Becky’s brown eyes made Amy wish her daughter was still pretending to ignore her.

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited before now.” She tried a tentative hug. The moment was so awkward, Amy wanted to cry. “I know this has been hard for you. I’d have come home sooner if I could.”

“This isn’t home.” Becky fought free of Amy’s grasp, stumbling from the chair. She spun around, her arms crossed tightly across her neon-pink T-shirt. “Not that I have a home anymore, since you finally worked up the guts to throw Dad out. But I don’t care about the condo or the apartment. I just want out of here.”

“That’s what your mom wants, too.” Gwen stepped to her granddaughter’s side and hugged her shoulders.

Becky melted against her and frowned at Amy. “Whatever. Just let me go back to Atlanta with you.”

“I can’t right now.” Amy struggled to find a way to break through her daughter’s unhappiness. To find different words than the ones she’d already said a hundred times. She was secure in her daughter’s love. She and Becky would be okay once the dust settled. But that didn’t erase the pain her child was enduring now—pain Amy never should have let touch her baby’s life.

“We’ve talked about this,” she said. “I’ve barely moved everything into the new apartment. Our lives are still in boxes. And with this project at work taking up all my time, you’re better off here for a little while longer.”

“Work! That’s all you care about. You don’t want me around any more than Dad does.”

“That’s not true, honey.” Amy longed to be holding her daughter herself. At least Becky was taking some comfort from Gwen. “I care about you very much. I’m doing all this to get us back on track. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“Then get me out of this nowhere place.” Anger laced every word the little girl hurled at Amy. “If you don’t, I’ll run away, I swear. I hate it here.”

“You’re not running away.” Warning bells chimed in Amy’s head. Like most kids, Becky could sense guilt a mile away. And she was a pro at using Amy’s against her.

Time for tough-as-nails Mom to take the gloves off. She pushed herself out of her chair. “Your grandmother’s taking good care of you, and you’ll be back in Atlanta by next month. Back with your friends, and your stuff, and your new school. So please, why don’t we skip the melodrama, make the best of the situation and talk about what’s going on at school instead?”

Becky nibbled on her thumbnail, her outburst momentarily subdued. Amy didn’t know which was worse, bearing the brunt of her daughter’s threats and disrespect, or watching Becky slip into these scary patches of silence.

“Honey, I came down here so we’d have the chance to talk. So I could check on what’s going on with you. Maybe I can help.” She knelt again until she was looking up into her daughter’s beautiful face. “I came because I’d do anything for you. You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t ever want you to think differently.”

“Really?” Becky sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Are you really staying the weekend? Grandma said there was some kind of meeting at school tomorrow, but you couldn’t come.”

“Of course I’m staying. We’re going to figure this out.” The memory of Josh saying the exact same thing echoed in Amy’s head. She took Becky’s hand, tugging until the child’s arm loosened and her hand dropped to her side. “I’ll be at the meeting with your teacher tomorrow. But I wanted to talk with you first.”

Her cell phone’s high-pitched chirp made them both jump. Becky jerked away, her expression fracturing into a mutinous scowl. Amy stifled a curse as she checked her watch. It was time for her conference call.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said as the dratted phone rang again. “I have to take this.”

After gazing apologetically at Becky, she shifted her eyes to her mother, silently begging for some magical solution. But all she found in her mom’s expression was a world of worry to match her own.

Amy stood and smoothed a hand through her daughter’s chocolate-colored curls. “I promise. This evening, after dinner, I’m all yours. No cell phones, no interruptions, just you and—”

“Fine, whatever.” The ten-year-old stomped away. “When you’re ready to fit me into your schedule,” she spat over her shoulder, “I’ll be in my cell.”

As Becky slammed her bedroom door, Amy slumped into a kitchen chair, then answered the still-ringing phone.