A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family: A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family. Kathleen O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ young black girl who’d stayed behind after Christy’s small funeral. The name and address of a woman who apparently had another Kraynick in her care…A name and address he shouldn’t use. And he had official options, too, which would inevitably involve red tape—and probably require evidence of things that might take a while to prove.

      If what he’d been told at the cemetery this morning was true, his whole life was about to change. Again. He needed information. Confirmation. His mother had seemed the obvious source. Stupid of him to think his mom would ever—ever—have answers for him.

      An hour later, standing in his en suite shower in the Sunset district home he’d shared with Hannah, Rick scrubbed until his skin stung.

      Then he stood, leaning an arm against the wall, head bowed, as he let the hot water cascade over his back.

      A year ago, life had been great. He’d been the single dad of a great kid, with a world of possibilities ahead for both of them. Tonight he was the son of a druggie; the older brother of a dead sister he never knew about; a grieving father.

      They’d told him it would get easier. That as time passed, the violence of the grief raging through him would lessen.

      They’d lied.

      MOST OF THE CROWD WAS gone by nightfall. Sue slipped upstairs, to call Barb, from the bedroom she’d always slept in on visits to Grandma.

      “I’m finished sooner than I thought,” she said, keeping her voice low, for no logical reason. Old habits, conditioning—a need to keep her private life private—died hard. “I’d like to swing by and pick up my brood.”

      Emily and Belle were in the kitchen, overseeing the caterers. Uncle Sam was downstairs, too, probably in the living room, cataloguing his take. Or checking that no one had taken anything yet. Not until he directed who would get what.

      “Wilma called. She told me to keep them all night, no matter what you said. You need this night to yourself.” Barb’s tone was sympathetic. “Besides, they’re already asleep.”

      Glancing at her watch, Sue realized it was after nine o’clock. Far too late to be making this call. Wilma, a foster care supervisor, was right. Sue wasn’t ready to take up motherhood again tonight.

      “I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” she said, missing the young charges in her care. Missing the busy-ness, the unconditional acceptance of love. “Don’t worry about breakfast. I’ll get them early enough to feed them at home.”

      Closing her cell phone, sliding it back into the case at her hip, Sue took the deep breath necessary to go back downstairs—but stopped. Someone was upstairs. Crying.

      Following the sound down the hall to Grandma’s room, Sue pushed open the door. Her mother, sitting in the off-white Queen Anne chair in the corner by Sarah’s bed, had her face buried in a nightgown she’d given Grandma for Christmas.

      “Hey.” Sue fought her own tears as she knelt at her mom’s feet. “Come on, you shouldn’t be up here alone.” She’d said the first thing that came to her mind, though there was no reason why Jenny shouldn’t be visiting her own mother’s room.

      Jenny started, clutching the hand Sue placed on her knee. “I…she was…I loved her so much,” she said.

      “I know.” Tears filled Sue’s eyes and she could hardly speak as her throat closed up. “Where’s Dad?” she managed to ask after a moment.

      “In the bathroom.”

      Sue’s gaze followed her mother’s around the room, taking in the long dresser covered with tiny antique perfume bottles on top of doilies Sarah had stitched herself. The collection of miniature porcelain animals. The tall bureau that had been her grandfather’s, still holding his key valet and an encased Giants baseball he’d caught on a fly at a World Series game.

      “Not once in all my years growing up did they ever make me feel as though I didn’t belong to them,” Jenny said.

      And that’s when Sue realized. “You heard Uncle Sam, too.”

      “It’s not like he’s ever tried to hide how he feels,” Jenny said. “I love my brother, Sue. I see the insecurity behind all of his blustering. I just wish he’d see that I’m not and never have been a threat.”

      “I can’t stand to be in the same room with him,” Sue said. “He’s just plain cruel…”

      “Everything he says is true.”

      “That everything here belongs to him?”

      “That he’s the only true Carson child.”

      “Mom! I can’t believe you’re saying that! We belong here as much as he does.”

      “And what we care about, the things that were dear to Grandma and Grandpa, the pictures, the things that hold memories, Sam won’t want, anyway. It’s going to be fine, honey. I can’t let him upset me like this.”

      “Who’s upsetting you, Jen?” Luke came into the room and Sue stood, giving her father a hug. Her parents had flown in from their home in Florida two days before. They’d been in town over Christmas, but she’d missed them more than usual this time around.

      “Sam,” Jenny answered.

      “Well, then that makes three of us he’s getting to, huh?” Luke pulled his wife to her feet, an arm around her and one still around Sue. “How about the Bookmans go face the dragon together?”

      HEART POUNDING Monday morning, Rick listened to the phone ring. Once. Twice.

      Come on, he willed Ms. Sue Bookman—the faceless woman who, at the moment, meant more to him than anyone else in the world.

      A third ring. And a fourth.

       Answer your phone.

      He didn’t know her age, her race or her marital status. He just knew she held his future in her hands.

      And that she lived just outside the Bay Area.

      The Internet phone listing matched the address he’d been given at the cemetery.

      “Hi, it’s me. I’m probably changing diapers. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

      She was changing diapers.

      “Sue, my name is Rick Kraynick. I’m assistant superintendent of Livingston schools…” He wanted her to know he was a good guy. Trusted around children. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you.”

      There. That should do it.

      Sitting back at the huge, glass-topped desk in his corner office on the fourth floor of the district building, Rick almost smiled. He’d made the call. Nothing was going to stop him.

      Chapter Three

      GRANDMA’S ASHES WEREN’T even in the vault before Sue’s uncle arranged the meeting for the reading of the will. He ’d said his urgency was out of respect for Jenny СКАЧАТЬ