A Daughter's Trust

Chapter Four

WHILE HER FIRST INSTINCT was to grab Camden and run, Sue left the baby in her cousin’s arms, falling in beside her parents, behind Belle and Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily, as they all made their way down the hall to the lawyer’s office suite. Joe had been in conversation with his father as she’d left.

Probably just as well. Sue and Joe just didn’t seem to have that much to say to each other these days.

The room was furnished with expensively upholstered couches for two, four of them, gathered around a central, cherry table laid with eight packets. A ninth chair, a high-backed desk chair, filled one of the corners of the meeting area.

Luke and Jenny were the first to sit. Sam and Emily took the couch next to theirs. That left two couches. One for Belle and Camden? The other for Sue and Carrie?

Belle sat, settling the sleeping baby boy more comfortably against her.

Sue preferred to stand.

Uncle Sam had opened the packet in front of him. Was shifting through papers as though he owned them all.

The papers. And the people in the room, too.

As Belle said, it wasn’t as if Grandma’s money was a big deal compared to his own bank account. Okay, so the house, built for a pittance back in the ’40s, was probably worth a million or more, but then Uncle Sam’s house would probably sell for that in California’s current market. And other than the house, the most valuable thing Grandma had was the diamond necklace Grandpa had given her when they’d married. It had been his mother’s, a gift from his father. And his grandmother’s before that.

Sue lost track of how many generations the necklace had been in the family, how many greats it went back, but she loved the story that went with the cherished piece. Had never tired of hearing it.

It had arrived in California with the Dale Carson who’d first come to America from Scotland. The son of itinerant farm workers. He’d fallen in love with the daughter of one of the wealthy gentlemen farmers he’d worked for, but their plans to marry were discovered. And the aggrieved father put an end to their affair. His love had given the young man the only thing of value she had with her—her necklace—and told him to use it for passage to America, where he could at least have the hope of a more promising future.

The young man had made it to America, working his way across the ocean in the bowels of a ship. The necklace, they said, he’d kept hidden away. And years later, in his new land, his new home, he gave it to the woman he married.

The necklace became a symbol. Hard work would get Carsons where they needed to be. They didn’t ever have to sell out; if things got tough, they just had to work harder.

As far as jewelry went, the piece was probably extremely valuable.

And Sue didn’t give a hoot.

She wanted her grandmother back…

Jenny and Luke held their packets, unopened. Belle picked up hers.

Sue didn’t give a damn what any of them read. What any sheets in the packet said.

She didn’t need goods.

She needed Grandma Sarah.

Jenny had Luke. Belle had Emily. Sam had Sam.

Sue used to have Sarah.

And…there were two extra packets on the table, in addition to Sue’s. What was that about?

The door to the room opened again. Sue recognized Stan. She’d met him once; she’d joined Grandma for lunch a couple of years ago after Sarah had had an appointment with the lawyer. They’d all walked out of this high-rise building together.

She’d have smiled, greeted him, in spite of the heaviness of her heart, except that…Stan wasn’t alone. Staring, she tried to make sense of the presence of the two men entering right behind her grandmother’s lawyer.

What were Joe and his dad doing there? Looking for someone? An attorney associate, perhaps?

“Good morning, everyone. Good, you’re seated. Going over the information.” Stan spoke quickly. Too quickly. “Gentlemen, have a seat.” He pointed from Joe and his father to the empty couch. “Can I get anyone coffee?”

Joe’s father sat. Joe stood behind him. Next to Sue.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

Uncle Sam, his jaw tight, stared suspiciously at the newcomers. “Stan? Is there some mistake here?”

“No, Sam. This is Adam Fraser and his son, Joe. Sarah asked that I contact them to be here this morning.”

Sue and Belle exchanged a glance. Luke and Jenny opened their packets. Emily studied the one she’d yet to open. Sue could feel the tension tightening her body and stealing air from the room. If this Adam Fraser guy got anything from Grandma, Uncle Sam was going to cause one hell of a scene.

One of his worst nightmares since Grandpa died was that some freeloader would take advantage of Sarah.

And from what Sue knew of Adam Fraser, he fit the freeloader bill.

Oh, God, please. Enough is enough. No scenes between my uncle and my boss today okay?

And while she was asking, she sent up a quick request for brevity. Her minutes with Camden were ticking away.

Not to mention divvying up Grandma’s stuff just seemed so…barbaric. Heartless.

Divvying up her stuff made her seem…gone.

“So—” the lawyer adjusted his gray-and-white-striped tie as he sat, keeping on the gray jacket that perfectly matched his pants “—let’s get started, shall we?” He glanced at Joe and Sue. And at the empty spaces on the couches. “Shall I get a couple more seats?”

“No,” Sue and Joe answered simultaneously.

Sue added, “I’m fine. I prefer to stand.”

Everyone in the room was looking at her and Joe.

She’d made it through four years of high school as best friends with Joe Fraser without ever having to introduce him to her family. And four days after she did introduce him, he’d showed up in a very private family meeting.

It was like something from The Twilight Zone.

“I’m good, too,” Joe said. And Sue wondered what he was really thinking behind that cool facade.

She tried to focus on anything but Grandma being gone. And Camden going.

She wondered who Rick Kraynick was and what emergency he had that he thought she could help with.

And she remembered she needed diapers.

Stan had them all open their documents. Adam handed one set back to Joe and one to Sue. Neither bothered opening them. The lawyer started to read—legal stuff about the history of last wills and testaments, about the sound minds of Sarah and Robert as they’d drawn up their bequests. About probate and executors. And then, so calmly Sue almost missed it, he announced that he’d been named as executor of Sarah Carson’s will.

No one looked at Sam, except Sue. She stared straight at him, saw the stiffening of his shoulders as he sat upright. Watched the red rise in his face. Obviously, in his perusal of the pages, he’d missed the executor part. Or hadn’t yet read that far.

Sue’s stomach, filled with nervous tension, threatened to send her to the restroom as she contemplated what else Uncle Sam hadn’t yet gotten to in those papers. What else was soon to be disclosed.

“Why are you really here?” Sue whispered to the man standing so stiffly beside her. He had to know. He had to tell her.

Someone had to do something before Uncle Sam exploded.

“I have no idea,” Joe whispered back.

Sue’s gaze shot to him. His lips were tight, the nerves in his throat pulsing.

“You sound worried.”

“With my dad, I never know what to expect.”

Yes, but what could abandonment or drinking habits have to do with Grandma Sarah? Unless the man had swindled her grandmother out of her small fortune? But if that were the case, the swindler wouldn’t be invited to the unveiling of his sins, would he? Not with the family gathered.

“Now.” Stan Wilson cleared his throat, crossing one leg over the other. “Before I get to the actual will, I have a short letter Sarah asked me to read to you.”

Sam sat forward, elbows on his knees. He reminded Sue of a cat looking at a fat, cornered mouse. Or an insecure man who was worried that, once again, what he felt was rightfully his was going to be stolen away…

A tiny foot jabbed her in the back, and Sue slowly swayed back and forth, tuning in to the little girl whose weight was a welcome reminder that life existed outside this room. Outside the horrible gray that seemed to color everything since Grandma Sarah had died.

“She left me with some hard news to deliver,” Stan continued, his expression serious. He glanced at Adam Fraser, and Sue’s stomach tightened right along with the male fist at her side. “I’ve dealt with a few grieving families so far in my career, but I’ve never had a situation quite like this. I ask you all to bear with me and forgive me in advance if I don’t do this well.”

“Just read the damn letter, Stan. We’re fine,” Sam said, with the authority of one who believed he had the right to speak for everyone.

With her father’s condescending tone ringing through the room, Belle shot Sue a glance. Rolled her eyes. And Sue was reminded of a hundred other times she and Belle had commiserated over their dysfunctional family.

Then her eyes landed on Camden and she had to look away. She’d given away fifteen infants. She was used to it. Fine with it. It was a part of the job she accepted. Today, she had no idea how she was going to pull it off.

Stan unfolded a piece of blue stationary, and even from her vantage point, Sue recognized Sarah’s distinctive, flowing handwriting.

“ ‘My dearests, it is with a very full heart that I sit down to write to you. First, because I know that by the time you get this, I will be gone from this earth, from you. Sam, Jenny, Emily, Luke, Belle and my sweet Sue, I loved you all so much.’”

Sue’s neck ached. Her back ached. Her head started to ache. Tears filled her eyes.

“ ‘And it is with great difficulty that I tell you, in death, what I could not bring myself to tell you in life, with hopes that somehow the truth will serve you well.’”

Frozen, Sue stood there. Grandma had secrets? She didn’t believe it. Not for a second. Grandma Sarah had been the most perfect individual Sue had ever known. She’d spent her life trying to be even half the woman Grandma was.

“ ‘My husband, Robert Carson, fathered three children. Our son, Sam, and our adopted daughter, Jenny. And Adam Fraser. Adam is Robert’s firstborn son by a matter of weeks. Jenny was born later, to the same woman who gave birth to Adam.’”

Sam jumped up. “That’s a lie!” His accusing gaze went from the lawyer to Adam Fraser and back, as though the two of them had concocted this scheme.

Adam’s reaction, in comparison, was almost nonexistent, though the words he uttered softly were almost the same. “That’s impossible.”

Joe didn’t move at all.

“Oh, my God,” Jenny murmured, her mouth open, the papers in her hand trembling as she started to cry.

“What the hell!” Sam’s outburst spewed spittle. “You expect me to believe that my father was a cheat who had two bastard children?”

“Sam, sit down,” the lawyer ordered. There was no mistaking the underlying warning that while Sam was in his office, he’d either do as Stan said, or be removed.

Sue glanced at Belle, more out of habit than anything else. Sue felt cold. And hot. And confused. Her mind reeled as she tried to take in the ramifications of what they were hearing.

“Robert was my biological grandfather?” She directed the question to Stan, but in fact just wanted out of this nightmare.

“Yes.”

“My father was really my father.” Jenny’s voice was weak, disbelieving.

“It’s all a bunch of lies,” Sam spat. “Someone put her up to this, blackmailed her to write that. My mother would never have stood for such a thing. She’d never have raised her husband’s bastard child.”

“Watch yourself,” Luke said quietly, with a menace that Sue had never heard from him before. He pulled Jenny closer, looking for Sue at the same time. She met his gaze briefly, and then, when tears threatened again, she turned away.

Someone had to stay rational here. To make sense of this. To get them all out of it.

“Billy Fraser was my father,” Adam said, his volume almost rivaling Sam’s now. “He died in a car accident just months before I was born.”

“Billy Fraser?” Sam asked, his eyes hard as he stared at the man who, if any of this was true, was his half brother. “He was Dad’s best friend. They went to high school together. Fought in the war together.”

“And he died before Adam was conceived.” Stan’s words dropped like bombs between them.

“This is all wrong,” Sam yelled, as though if he spoke loudly enough he’d convince them all. “My mother was out of her mind.”

“I assure you Sarah was in full faculty and acting of her own accord when she brought this letter to me,” Stan said, holding up a folder. “There are other documents here—Jenny’s original birth certificate, adoption papers, blood work that was done shortly after Adam was born. If you still aren’t convinced, you could have DNA tests done, but I don’t think you’ll find that necessary after you look at all of this.”

“You’re telling us my father was unfaithful to my…adoptive mother?” Jenny asked.

“That’s preposterous.” Sam stood again, moved toward the coffee cart in the far corner of the room, but didn’t go so far as to pour himself a cup. “There’s no way my father would have done this!” More quietly, he added, “Dad was not a womanizer. He was loyal.”

For once, her uncle seemed to be truly at a loss.

“And this man—” Jenny, with tears still on her lashes, glanced to her left “—you…are my brother? My…full brother?”

Adam didn’t move. But he stared back. Almost as if by looking at her, there’d be some kind of recognition.

“Wait,” Sue said, struggling hard with the emotions swirling around her. And inside her.

Her beloved Sarah had faced the heartache of infidelity? And lied to them all? To Jenny? Letting her think she was adopted when, in fact, she was as much a Carson as Sam was?

And what about Adam? How come Robert and Sarah hadn’t adopted him? Why hadn’t any of them even known him? Had Robert just turned his back on his firstborn? Then why not on Jenny?

Robert had had an affair with a woman while having a baby with his wife at the same time? And the affair had continued long enough that Jenny was also conceived?

Was nothing sacred?

While Stan turned over Sarah’s letter to her children, Sue asked Joe, “Do you believe any of this?”

He looked as stunned as she felt.

“This sounds like another one of my father’s fantastic tales,” Joe said softly. And then, after glancing toward his dad, said to the room at large, “So we’re to believe that my father spent his whole life thinking his father was dead, when instead the man was alive and well right here in San Francisco?”

“I’m telling you, this is bullshit.” Shaking his head, Sam handed his mother’s letter back to the lawyer and pinned his half brother with his infamous menacing stare at the same time. “If you think I’m going to stand for this, you’re sadly mistaken.” Sue wasn’t sure if Sam was addressing Stan, Adam or both.

Stan handed the letter to Adam, who sat on the couch, head bent over it as he read.

Sam paced. Belle and Emily spoke quietly, watching him. Luke and Jenny were deep in conversation, Luke rubbing his wife’s arm. Sue just wanted to escape.

“Sam, come sit down.” Emily’s voice was encouraging. Loving.

Sue didn’t know how she did it.

“I will not.” Sam strode over to her, though, standing behind her. Facing Adam. And Joe and Sue.

Adam, her uncle? And…

And Joe…Camden whimpered. Sue watched as her cousin gently lifted him, crooned to him. And then, with a mind that felt drugged, she offered, “Belle, this means we’re cousins by blood.”

Finally, a ray of sunshine in the whole crazy mess. She and Belle shared blood!

“What about Daniel?” Joe’s voice sounded odd beside her. “If this is true, Jenny’s his half sister. Sue his niece.”

Daniel. Joe’s uncle, nine years older than him. The builder. Sue had another uncle?

“I have another brother?” Wide-eyed, Jenny looked to Adam. And then to Stan.

Sue wanted out. Too many people. Too many emotions. Too much pain.

“My younger brother, Daniel, yes,” Adam said, defensive and lost at the same time. “From my mother’s second, brief marriage.”

Sue listened, one of Carrie’s feet in each of her hands, while her heart and mind tried to find each other.

And that’s when the truth hit her. In shock she turned and stared at her high school sweetheart. Her boss.

“We’re cousins,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.

Joe stared back.

And Sue opened her mouth one more time, saying quietly enough that only he could hear, “Thank God we didn’t have sex.”

Chapter Five

RICK’S APPOINTMENT with his attorney early Wednesday morning went only moderately better than his meeting with social services the day before. He had a chance, but success was not guaranteed. At least his lawyer was going to file a motion for a hearing and for DNA testing.

Until then, WeCare Services wasn’t even going to grant him visitation rights.

And in the meantime, unless and until they got a stay with the court, someone else could get custody of the baby.

Cell phone in hand before he’d even reached his Nitro, Rick punched in the speed dial number he’d programmed the day before.

Maybe she hadn’t received his message. Or had lost his number. Maybe she didn’t want to talk to him. At this point he didn’t much care.

She was to be at every meeting pertaining to Carrie’s welfare. To give her opinion. An opinion that, apparently, carried as much or more weight as that of the social worker WeCare had assigned to the case.

“Hello?” She answered before the first ring was complete. She sounded breathless.

Young and breathless.

“Ms. Bookman?”

“Yes. This is Rick Kraynick, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I recognized your number on caller ID,” she said, her voice uneven, as though she was still doing whatever had her so breathless to begin with. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back with you. I’ve been a little…distracted.”

The words came in disjointed spurts. Was she jogging?

“No problem,” he said, when in fact he’d spent the better part of the night before watching his phone—with mounting frustration. “Did I get you at a bad time?”

“No worse than usual,” she said, “better than some. So, how can I help?”

God, if only this could be that easy. He’d ask; she’d help. And he could officially pull off the road to hell.

HURRY, PLEASE, Sue silently urged the man on the other end of the line. No matter how vigorously she bobbed, Camden wouldn’t go back to sleep. There’d been a mix-up with his paperwork the day before, so she’d had him one more night.

But they’d be here within the hour to take him away from her. One hour. Sixty minutes of which, to Sue, every second counted.

The baby was going to be calm, happy, in a good mood to begin his new life. It was the only way she could rest assured that he’d have a smooth transition.

Or at least any hope of one.

Besides, Carrie was due to wake up, and one thing Sue had discovered over the years was that talking on the phone was a tad difficult with a squalling infant nearby.

“Mr. Kraynick?”

“Yes. Sorry. I was…are you sure there isn’t a better time to call? Are you jogging or something?”

“I’m bouncing a baby, Mr. Kraynick. It’s what I do.”

“Is it Carrie?”

Just that quickly Sue’s mood went from self-pitying to defensive. “How do you know Carrie?”

“I’m her uncle, her mother’s older brother, and I know you have her.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny your allegations, Mr. Kraynick. Please call social services.” She rattled off the government number. If he was legitimate, the city would send him to WeCare. And Sonia, Carrie’s social worker.

Sue was already walking back to check on Carrie, about to hang up.

“Wait!” The urgency in his voice stopped her. “Please,” he said more calmly. “Just hear me out.”

He didn’t sound like a crackpot. Weary, maybe. Desperate, perhaps. But not nuts.

“How did you find me?”

“A friend of Christy’s. Apparently Christy talked about you all the time. She said Christy had visitation rights.”

That was true.

Christy had never missed a visit.

And maybe that was why Carrie was so special. Because Sue had spent a lot of time with the baby’s sixteen-year-old mother. Had seen how hard the girl was working to get her baby back. How determined she was.

“Why are you calling?”

“Because you have a say in Carrie’s welfare and I’m concerned. I…”

She was invited to all meetings pertaining to the baby’s welfare. She gave input for Carrie’s sake. And only regarding what she’d seen with her own eyes. Only regarding what she knew, not what she heard.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Mr. Kraynick. Maybe if you talk to your sister—”

“What do you know about Christy?”

“Uh-uh, Mr. Kraynick,” she said softly, laying a sleeping Camden in his crib. Carrie was sound asleep, on her right side, just as Sue had left her. “This conversation is over.”

“I grew up in foster care,” he said, as though that gave him privilege. Some insider’s edge.

“Then you know you shouldn’t be calling me.”

“I know that, right now, you’re my best shot.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m no shot at all.”