Faith, Hope and Family

Lenore pulled herself straighter in her chair, her green eyes snapping with what might have been annoyance. “That’s nonsense. I’m perfectly comfortable with the way things are. I know you’ve spent very little time around her, but Isabelle is an extraordinary four-year-old. She’s bright, funny and well-behaved. And, since Nathan and Caitlin will be raising her with their own children, should they have any, she will probably always see me as a grandmother. Why would I mind that?”

Deborah could think of a half dozen reasons why—starting with the fact that Isabelle was the product of an extramarital affair between her father, former gubernatorial candidate Stuart McCloud, and a young campaign worker only a couple of years older than Deborah. The affair had become public only months before the election, putting an end to Stuart’s campaign—and to his thirty-year marriage to Lenore, who had been both humiliated and devastated by the scandal. Still, Lenore had held her head high with characteristic dignity and poise.

A senior in an out-of-state college at the time, Deborah had never again spoken to her father after he left his family to marry his young mistress. Nathan-the-peacemaker had been the only one of the siblings to maintain a relationship with their father, though it had been a distant one since Stuart and Kimberly had moved to California to begin their new life together. Nathan was the only one who had visited Stuart there, where he had fallen hard for his little half sister.

When Stuart and Kimberly had died in a tourist accident in Mexico just over a year ago, Nathan had been named executor of the orphaned toddler’s inheritance. And when arrangements for her care in California had fallen through, Nathan had brought her into his home, had himself appointed her guardian and announced his intention to raise her himself. With his new wife’s help, of course.

Lenore hadn’t accepted that development easily. At first, she had felt hurt and betrayed by Nathan’s actions, refusing to have anything to do with the child. But when it had become apparent that Nathan’s choice had been made and that she would push him away permanently if she refused to acknowledge the child who was now such an important part of his life, she had gracefully relented. Announcing that she would fill the role of surrogate grandmother for the child, she had once again earned the sympathy and support of her neighbors, who practically considered the generous, tireless community volunteer a saint.

There were times when Deborah wondered if her mother carried this sainthood thing too far. She was certain she couldn’t have been so gracious in betrayal. In fact, she still harbored some resentment that Nathan had been willing to sacrifice his relationship with Lenore, Gideon and herself in favor of their father’s late-life child. Even understanding his rationale—that Isabelle needed him more than the others did—didn’t completely heal the wound. But then, she’d never claimed to be as noble as her mother, she reminded herself.

A real class act. Deborah could suddenly hear the echo of Dylan’s voice when he’d spoken of Lenore only hours earlier. And she frowned, because she had been trying hard to put that awkward little interlude out of her mind.

Because she could tell that Lenore was becoming increasingly defensive about her decision to include Isabelle in her life, Deborah decided to change the subject. She would not allow her father’s actions to cause another wedge between herself and her mother more than a year after his death. “I’m sure you know what’s best for you,” she murmured.

“What’s best for me and for my family,” Lenore concurred firmly. “And I won’t let anyone else’s opinion of my actions change my mind.”

Deborah wondered if someone else had recently criticized Lenore’s generosity toward her late ex-husband’s child. Were there some who thought the local paragon had been a bit too saintly this time? If so, their opinions obviously made no difference to Lenore. Deborah decided to keep her own opinions to herself from now on, at least where Isabelle was concerned.

“I’m so glad you’re staying a while this time.” Lenore’s smile was uncharacteristically misty for a moment, catching Deborah by surprise with the swift change of mood and subject. “It’s been so long since you were home for more than a long weekend.”

Thinking of her midnight run for the city limits, Deborah shifted guiltily in her seat. “It’s nice to be home,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with sincerity.

“Have you decided yet about your next job?”

Deborah shrugged. “I’m deliberating between offers in Atlanta and Dallas. I’ve enjoyed living in Tampa for the past couple of years, but it feels like time to move on.”

Lenore shook her head. “You’ve lived in three different states since you obtained your degree less than five years ago. When are you going to settle down?”

“Hey, I’m single, unattached and in demand. Might as well try new experiences while I can, right?”

“I suppose so.” Lenore looked doubtful. “But it does seem that you would want to start a family soon. You’ll be twenty-seven in just ten days, you know.”

“Yes, mother. I’m aware of my birth date and exactly how old I will be.”

Her indulgent tone made Lenore smile a bit sheepishly. “Sorry. I suppose I have weddings and grandchildren on my mind these days.”

“No wonder, with both Nathan and Gideon being married so recently. But you’ll just have to be satisfied with those two weddings for a while. I’m in no hurry to complicate my life anytime soon.”

“I hope my divorce from your father hasn’t soured you on the prospect of marriage. Not every marriage ends so painfully. And even though mine did, I have no regrets. Your father and I had many happy years together, and I was blessed with three wonderful children. That more than makes up for any heartaches I might have suffered along the way.”

Since her parents’ divorce had been messy, humiliating and entirely too public, Deborah didn’t know if she could ever reach the level of acceptance about it that Lenore had obtained. But then, she had never claimed to have her mother’s seemingly endless supply of patience, generosity, tolerance and forgiveness. Lenore wasn’t regarded as a saint in these parts without reason.

Because Deborah didn’t want to talk about those unhappy memories now, she abruptly changed the subject. “I’d like another cup of coffee. Do you want me to refill yours while I’m at it?”

“Just a half a cup, please—”

Before Deborah could even make it to the coffeemaker, the telephone rang. Both Deborah and Lenore looked at it in surprise. It seemed awfully early on this Saturday morning for anyone to be calling. Lenore moved to answer it.

Carrying both cups of coffee back to the table, Deborah opened the newspaper that had been sitting beside her plate and perused the headlines, making no effort to overhear her mother’s end of the conversation. She had just turned to the comics page and was smiling at Garfield’s shenanigans when Lenore rejoined her.

Deborah knew with one glance at her mother’s face that the call had been bad news.

Her smile vanished as she set her coffee cup down with a thump. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

For some reason, she had a terrible fear that something had happened to Gideon and Adrienne on their honeymoon. Irrational, of course, since Lenore looked sad, but entirely too calm for such a tragedy, but it was the first thought that popped into Deborah’s mind. After all, her father had died while on a belated honeymoon with his second wife, though she was annoyed with herself for remembering that fact at that particular moment.

Lenore sank into her chair and reached for her coffee. “Caitlin’s mother passed away during the night.”

Deborah was immediately relieved that her brothers were unharmed. Still, she was genuinely sympathetic for her sister-in-law when she said, “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Lenore sighed, her eyes sad. “It’s a blessing, I suppose. The poor dear hasn’t even recognized her daughter for more than a year.”

“Are Caitlin and Nathan going to Jackson to make the arrangements?”

“Yes, they’re leaving later this morning. They’ll be gone for two or three days while they organize the funeral and take care of other final arrangements. With this being a Saturday, there’s not much they can do until business hours Monday morning. Staying in a hotel there will save them from having to be on the road a couple of hours a day, and Caitlin said she would rather be there with her mother until after the funeral on Monday. It will also put them in town to meet with the bank and the nursing-home administrator to settle all the bills and close out the trust funds Caitlin had set up for her mother’s care. Isabelle will be staying here with us, by the way. Caitlin said that would be much more helpful to her than having us attend the funeral service.”

Deborah set her coffee cup down with a thump. “They’re bringing Isabelle here?”

“Of course. You wouldn’t expect them to take a four-year-old to a funeral home, would you?”

What Deborah hadn’t expected was to spend the next few days in the same house with her young half sister. It was awkward enough staying here, anyway, but at least when it was just her and her mother, she could concentrate on the happy memories of her childhood and deliberately refuse to think about the painful dissolution of her family.

That wouldn’t be possible when she was sitting across the breakfast table from the embodied evidence of her father’s betrayal. As often as she had reminded herself that Isabelle was a permanent member of her family, and that the child couldn’t be blamed for her parents’ actions, it was still hard to be completely objective.

“No,” she said a bit stiffly. “Of course they couldn’t take Isabelle with them. But what about the housekeeper? Mrs. Tuckerman?”

“She isn’t a live-in housekeeper. She’s there during daytime hours. And besides, I volunteered to keep Isabelle. It will only be for a few days,” Lenore reminded her. “They’ll probably be back by Monday evening. And Isabelle really is no trouble at all. She’s so behaved.”

Deborah shrugged. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Especially, she added silently, since she intended to keep a polite, but definite, distance between herself and the child. Lenore would be the baby-sitter. Unlike the rest of the family—even Gideon, surprisingly enough—Deborah had no desire to form a close relationship with Isabelle. She simply wasn’t comfortable with children, she told herself—particularly this one.

She had just finished her coffee when the doorbell rang. Lenore hurried to answer it, leaving Deborah to follow somewhat reluctantly. Caitlin, Deborah noted with a searching look at her sister-in-law’s face, was sad, but composed, having resigned herself to this inevitability when her mother had suffered a massive stroke nearly two years ago. Nathan was a bit more subdued than usual, but his smile was still warm when he looked down at the blue-eyed and blond cherub clinging to his hand.

Deborah had been told several times that four-year-old Isabelle was the image of herself at the same age. She’d never known exactly how to respond to the observation, though she acknowledged the family resemblance. Dark-haired, green-eyed Gideon was the only one of Stuart McCloud’s four offspring who hadn’t inherited their father’s bright blue eyes and golden hair. Despite common acceptance that dark hair and eyes tended to be dominant, Deborah had never been surprised that Stuart’s genes had been as forceful and assertive as his personality. Nor did it seem odd to her that Gideon had been the one who was different even from conception.

She stepped toward Caitlin when Lenore moved away to speak to Isabelle. “I’m very sorry about your mother.”

Caitlin squeezed Deborah’s hand. “Thank you. I said goodbye to my mother a long time ago, of course, but I’ll still miss my weekly visits with her at the nursing home, even if I doubt she ever knew I was there.”

“Maybe she was aware you were there, but just couldn’t let you know.”

“Maybe some part of her did know me. It was that possibility that kept me going back every week.”

Nathan slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’ll be back in town in a few days,” he told Deborah. “I hope we’ll be able to spend a little time together before you take off again.”

Family was extremely important to Nathan. Deborah knew that if it were up to him, he would keep everyone nearby where he could personally make sure they were all safe and happy. He would never fully understand Deborah’s need to keep moving, content to live almost anywhere except the town where they had grown up.