A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family: A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family

But he answered her anyway. “My niece aside, you intrigue me. It’s been a long time since I met a woman I didn’t immediately forget two minutes after I left her…That didn’t come out as I meant it to sound.”

Rick moaned inwardly. He really had been out of the singles scene a long time.

“Maybe not, but it might be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in quite a while.” Her voice dropped. “This isn’t going to sway my opinion regarding Carrie.”

“I understand.”

“I mean that.”

“I’m enjoying a conversation with a woman I’ve met,” he said, bemused as he looked out over a city that, recently, had seemed to go on without him. “Not with a foster parent.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

“Okay then, my mom was adopted,” she blurted, before going on to tell him about her mother’s relationship with her older brother, the biological son of her adoptive parents. And that wasn’t all. There were two uncles involved, too. And a couple of cousins.

“And you guys just found out all of this?”

“Pretty amazing, huh?” Silence hung between them until she said, “Had enough?”

“Not by a long shot.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Talking.”

“Yeah, but we don’t really even know each other and…Strangely enough, this feels…good.”

“So talk. This feels…good.” He repeated her words back to her.

“It’s been a tough couple of weeks all around, huh?”

“That it has.” “It’s kind of like we were meant to meet. To talk.”

He was glad to hear she thought so, too. “We’ve been through similar experiences,” he said. “Both finding out about family we didn’t know we had. It’s good to talk to someone who understands.”

“Especially since we aren’t going to get a chance to have relationships with some of them. Your sister. My biological grandmother. And even some I did spend time with weren’t who I thought they were. My whole life I thought my grandfather was this somewhat quiet, very loyal, hardworking family man who adored my grandmother. And then I hear that he was not only unfaithful to her, that he’d had a mistress on the side for years, but that he’d also had babies by her? He had both women pregnant at the same time with his two sons!”

“But they never knew they were half brothers.” “

No! We didn’t even know this other woman existed, and she was my mom’s mother! This woman raised her two sons—the second, younger than my mother, was fathered by the man she eventually married—and a grandson. So why in the hell did she give my mother away?”

“Maybe your grandfather gave her no choice. Maybe it was some kind of deal they made, that one of them raise one of their children while the other raised the other?”

“That stinks. Like kids are assets you’re going to split?”

Rick leaned back on the couch, propping his heels on the low table in front of it, more alive than he’d felt in a long time. “Yeah, probably not. You said he was a loving man. There was probably more to it than that. Maybe…

maybe the first pregnancy came so soon after her husband’s death she could pass the baby off as his. But your mother would have been obviously illegitimate.”

“That wasn’t my mom’s fault. And certainly no reason not to love her.”

“But then you live in a society that wouldn’t blink twice at a child born out of wedlock.” What an untenable situation. “I can’t imagine the rest of Robert’s life, as he lived with those choices.”

“My grandfather’s smile always seemed a little sad. I understand why, now. But I’ll say this for him. He was there for us. Always.”

“Us. You mentioned a couple of cousins. Are they Sam’s kids?”

“Belle is. The other, Joe, is Adam’s son.”

“So you knew this Belle growing up, but since you never met Adam, you wouldn’t have known Joe, which means you have a new cousin to become acquainted with, too.”

“No, that’s weird, as well. Adam’s son, Joe, was my best friend.”

Rick frowned. “What?”

“Yeah.” Sue paused a long moment. Then she explained about the friend she’d had but never brought home. “The best way I can describe my childhood is cloying,” she added, by way of explanation. “My mom’s the type who’s not content unless she’s inside your skin. Maybe because Uncle Sam always made her feel less a part of the family, I don’t know. Anyway, she met my father while they were still in high school, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. They do everything together, especially now since Dad’s retired.”

Rick was beginning to understand why Sue lived alone. And hoped it wasn’t a condition she wanted to maintain forever.

“By the time I met Joe, I was fourteen. We went to the same high school—just like my parents. I’d realized by that point that I was either going to spend my life fighting to get breathing space from my parents, go insane or keep secrets from them. He was my secret. I realize now that part of the secrecy was my way of keeping my distance, even with Joe.”

“You guys had no idea you were related.”

“Nope.”

Rick didn’t think he had a right to ask the obvious question. A boy. A girl. Close. Hormones.

“He asked me to go steady when we were seniors.”

Rick laid his head back against the cushions, focused on the lights twinkling with abandon in the vast world before him.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

Chapter Nine

SUE HAD BEEN WANDERING around her house, touching things—a cold metal frame on the mantel, a picture of Grandma, the soft baby blankets on the edge of a bassinet. She rinsed the dishes in the kitchen. And picked up the toys left on the floor from her parents’ playtime with the kids.

She ended up in her bathroom, the baby monitor on the counter so she could hear if anyone needed her, and closed the door. Lighting a couple of candles, she switched off the lights, turned on the water in the garden tub, poured in bubble bath and started to undress.

All with her cell phone planted firmly at her ear.

“Joe and I went steady that whole year,” she told Rick, remembering. Speaking of things she’d never told anyone before. Not even Grandma. Because she could. Because she had a feeling he’d understand. Because, as he’d said, he was risk free.

Her blouse fell to the floor. Doing things with one hand was no problem for a woman used to living with a baby on her hip as an almost permanent fixture. The hooks on her bra were as easily mastered.