A Daughter's Trust

“Nope.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Seven years.”

“Is she still alive?” Sue asked gently.

“As far as I know.”

“Do you ever hear from her?”

“Briefly, six months ago.”

So much for the lost love theory.

“And you haven’t met anyone since?”

“I wasn’t looking.”

“Married to the job, huh?” she guessed. He’d climbed the career ladder quickly.

“Maybe. I’m told I work too much.”

She was told the same thing. By her parents. Every time she talked to them.

They covered another mile, passing a couple of other bikers and a pair on in-line skates, and Twin Peaks came into view. Sue asked him if he’d ever been up there.

“Of course,” he said. “Hasn’t everyone who’s lived in San Francisco for more than a week?”

She chuckled.

“What’s going to happen to your grandma’s house?” Rick asked.

Sue stared at him before answering. Who was this man? Where had he come from? And why was he in her life right now? When she was most susceptible?

“Uncle Sam’s got it listed already. He and Mom already divvied up most of Grandma’s stuff, and movers are putting the things in storage bins.”

She’d heard the words. She’d processed facts. Period. Her life had revolved around that house in Twin Peaks. Around her grandparents.

Her life had been a lie.

“That’s quick.”

“Do you have any idea how much it would have meant to know that we were blood relatives while I was growing up?” she blurted. “Do you have any idea how many times I wished I was as much a grandchild to Grandma and Grandpa as Belle was?” Sue couldn’t believe she was saying this.

“You were! Come on, you more than anyone know that adopted kids are as loved, as valued, as important as biological children.”

“To the parents, that’s true. But just because adults have it all worked out doesn’t mean children do. We can explain, and love, but we can’t tell a child how to feel. Or an adult, either.”

“But you felt loved.”

“Yes, and now I feel incredibly betrayed. How could Grandpa never once look his daughter in the eye and tell her he’d fathered her? I just don’t get it.”

“At least he had her there to love.”

Sue pedaled harder as the questions pushed her on. She didn’t want to think about these things. Didn’t want to talk about them.

But they wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Still, it would have helped so much if we’d all known who we were. If Mom was truly adopted, unrelated by blood, then fine. That’s who she was. Instead, that’s only who she thought she was. And she has another full brother and a half brother…To know that your parents deliberately kept the knowledge from you…”

“I’m sure they had reasons.”

“That doesn’t mean they were right. Or that they made the best choices.” Sue’s thoughts raged on. “That’s one of the reasons I think Carrie being placed with your mother might be the best choice,” she said before she could think better of it. “As long as your mother adores her, and stays clean—and with her history, the state won’t give her two chances with this one—with her Carrie has a chance of growing up with a strong sense of self. And sometimes it’s only your sense of self that keeps you holding on…”

Her parents had given her that. And it had kept her alive at a time when she’d rather have been dead. When she’d prayed for death.

“Your mother knew Christy better than anyone,” she said, grasping the handlebars tighter. “She knew her likes and dislikes, her mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, how old she was when she took her first steps and what kinds of things made her laugh. She probably knows who Carrie’s father is, and she was around for Carrie’s birth. She’s the only one who can—”

“I disagree.”

His voice had changed.

“I know.”

And that was why she couldn’t start to count on this man’s friendship, no matter how much he engaged her. A baby’s life wasn’t something you could get around.

Or compromise on.

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