Not My Daughter

Chapter 8

Rick McKay had always affected Susan. True to form, her heart began to race when she saw him on the other side of the glass. The cause of it this time, though, wasn't excitement but fury. She continued to glare as he turned the handle and let himself in, his handsome face lit by a smile.

"Hey," he said. His eyes never left her face, nor did his smile falter as he leaned against the door to close it. He was clearly delighted to see her, which infuriated Susan all the more.

"If you're looking for your daughter, she just left. She breezed through here with no interest in eating the dinner I took the effort to make-though she did wail for help, child that she is, when she couldn't find the sweater she wanted to wear. It's like nothing has changed! She just made the volleyball team, though I can't imagine she'll be able to play the late games in March, but she's barreling ahead as if everything's okay. Only it isn't. She doesn't seem to see any consequences. But I'm feeling them already. People are talking-and they don't even know about the other two"-she waved the thought away-"I can't begin to go there yet. My boss is furious even without it-at me, not at Lily, at me. What did I do wrong, except raise her the best way I know how?" Eyes tearing, she crossed her arms. "Why are you smiling? This is serious, Rick."

"Boy, have I missed you," he said in that rich voice of his.

"That is irrelevant!" she cried, fighting panic. "We're in a crisis here, only my daughter-your daughter-doesn't seem to understand that. Three girls pregnant? Every time I think about it, I start to shake. If she wanted to rebel, couldn't she have dyed her hair pink, or pierced her navel, or gotten a tattoo?"

"She says it isn't rebellion."

"No," Susan allowed, "not rebellion. She wants a family. So how does that make me feel? I've worked my tail off to be her family. If she was that desperate for a bigger one, she should have told me. I could have adopted a baby. I could have gone to a sperm bank."

"You could have asked me."

"Rick, this isn't funny. She's pregnant, refuses to identify the guy, and doesn't have a clue what her future will be like."

"Would it help if she did?" he asked in a tone so reasonable that Susan's anger ebbed.

"Maybe not." She sighed. "She knows I'll always be there."

"Because you're a good mother."

"I'm a lousy mother," Susan cried, quickly restoked. "I'm behaving badly, and I can't seem to help it. I resent her confidence. I resent her cavalier attitude. I'm even feeling jealous-jealous-because she's going through the same thing I did, only she'll have it easier. I've struggled to get us to this place. People respect me, Rick. I've worked so hard to redeem myself for doing what everyone in my life said was irresponsible, and I actually thought I'd made it. Now Lily has taken that away. Negated everything. I feel betrayed. By a seventeen-year-old."

"She's not just any seventeen-year-old."

"No. So maybe some of my anger is justified-but I'm doing exactly what my mother did, everything I swore I would never do, and that's sick."

His expression softened. Saying nothing, he reached out and brought her close. And, of course, she was lost. He had that power-could clear her mind of rational thought with a touch-not that she was complaining. This was the first respite from worry that she'd had in two weeks. However briefly, her problems were shared.

She didn't know how long they stood there, but she didn't hurry to leave. Everything about Rick was familiar. For all the different places he'd been and people he'd met, he remained the same man-same warmth, same smell, same heartbeat. Her connection with him was as strong as ever.

The slow breath he took as he held her said that he felt the same. Coming after her outburst, that meant a lot.

Finally, raising her head, she managed a small smile. "You're here for Lily's concert."

His eyes were on her mouth. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it. My dad's expecting me for Thanksgiving, so I came in across the Pacific, but I kept thinking that Lily and I needed to talk in person. She won't tell me much on the phone. So I touched down in LA and took right off again. I've been traveling for thirty-six hours. Missed every connection possible."

Susan knew Rick. He was a seasoned traveler who could catnap anywhere. But, yes, his eyes were tired. "You need sleep."

"I need a shower more." He glanced at his watch. "How much time before the concert?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Plenty. First a shower." He shot a covetous look at the chicken pot pie that sat on top of the stove. "Is that what she didn't want to eat?"

"It is."

"I do. Can I?"

Susan and Rick arrived at the high school with minutes to spare. With five different groups performing, the auditorium was packed, so they stood at the rear wall. Rick kept ducking back into the lobby until the very last minute, hoping to catch sight of Lily, but none of the singers appeared.

Susan searched the rows of seats for Mary Kate and Jess but didn't see them. She couldn't imagine they wouldn't be there to support Lily-unless they were simply keeping a low profile, which she could totally understand. Hadn't she been content to arrive at the auditorium at the last minute and not have to mingle with parents herself?

The house lights dimmed, and the concert began with performances by the string quartet and the jazz band, before, finally, the Zaganotes ran down the side aisles and onto the stage singing their trademark "Feelin' Groovy." There were a dozen willowy girls, each with long hair swaying, fingers snapping, their smiles vibrant against black turtlenecks.

Lily wasn't among them.

"Where is she?" Rick whispered.

"I have no idea," Susan whispered back. She took out her phone, but there were no messages. She glanced back at the door, but there were no girls waiting to join the others onstage-and besides, the Zaganotes had a dozen singers, and a dozen were already there. Susan knew who was in the group and who wasn't. One of the girls onstage, Claire DuMont, was new.

"Think Lily got sick?" Rick whispered.

"She'd have called," Susan whispered back.

"What if she couldn't, if it was something serious?" He was thinking about the baby, Susan knew.

"One of the other girls would have come to get me."

The group sang Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time," then a spectacular arrangement of Seal's "Kiss from a Rose," but Susan's eyes were on her phone. WHERE R U, she texted and waited nervously. When Lily didn't text back, she slipped out of the auditorium and tried phoning, but the voice that came on was the bright, recorded one saying, "Not here, say where." Rick was beside her, looking as worried as she was, when the phone rang.

"Lily's with me," Mary Kate said. "She's fine."

"Why isn't she singing?"

"The Zaganotes asked her to resign."

"Resign." Susan caught Rick's eye.

"Because she's pregnant."

"Wait. Kristen Hannigan picked her up to drive her to the concert."

"Kristen Hannigan picked her up to tell her the news. Lily made her drop her in town, then she called me."

"Where are you now?"

"Your house."

"I'll be right there."

Lily was huddled in the den, eyes red, tissues in her hand. Her bare feet were tucked under her, the black sweater and jeans replaced by purple sweats. Her hair was messed, a sign of the hasty change of clothes. When she saw Susan, her eyes welled, then grew wider when she saw Rick.

"You came all this way to see the concert?" she cried, tears spilling. "That is so bad!"

"I came to see you," said Rick and, leaning over, gave her a huge hug. "The concert was just an excuse." Drawing back, he brushed at her tears, but they continued to fall.

"How could they do this to me, Mom?" she asked. "I worked for that spot. I earned it. I was at practice all day Sunday and no one said a word, but the whole time they must have been talking behind my back." Angrily, she wiped her cheeks with her palms. "I'll bet Emily Pettee started it. Her mom is a bitch."

"Lily."

"She is. She acts like she's our censor. She has a thing against any song whose lyrics are at all suggestive, so forget doing Amy Wine-house or even the Dixie Chicks. She's always around before concerts making sure that every little last bra strap is hidden. I know she's behind this."

"It doesn't matter-"

"It does, Mom. I love singing."

Susan knew that, and her heart broke. Kneeling, she took Lily's hand. "It doesn't matter who started it," she finished quietly. "If the girls voted, it's done."

"But how could they do this to me? I've worked with them since freshman year. What about 'esprit de corps'?"

"Babies change things," Susan tried to explain as gently as she could, but Lily wasn't finished.

"I won't be showing until way after the holidays-but no, they thought this would make for a 'smoother' transition. Like they're so pure? They are not, Mom. Jennifer Corbin makes the rounds of the football team, Laura Kirk is with a different guy every month. And Emily? She had an abortion last summer, only they called it a procedure to correct a gynecological problem."

"Procedure?" Rick asked with a snort. "And her mom's the ring leader? Sounds like self-righteous indignation on the part of someone who's guilty as hell but doesn't want the world to know."

"I should tell the world about Emily," Lily declared.

"And be self-righteously indignant yourself?" Susan asked. "I don't think so."

"Emily did have an abortion."

"She isn't pregnant now, and that's the issue."

Lily pulled her hand free. "So we're back at that-my being pregnant now and your not wanting this baby. Confess. You don't."

"Want you pregnant now? I don't. But you are. I'm trying to accept it-just like you have to accept that the other girls don't consider pregnancy to be part of the Zaganotes' image. You have reasons for doing what you did, and if this is one of the consequences, you have to accept it."

Lily started crying again. "Why?"

"Because that's how it is." Susan sighed. "What alternative do you have, sweetheart? Yes, the girls are wrong, but if you tell them that, they'll resent it. Tell people about Emily-or Jen or Laura-and it'll be even worse. Isn't it better to preserve your own dignity?"

"Hey," said Mary Kate from behind them.

Susan had forgotten the other girl was there and looked back to see her edging toward the door.

"Don't leave!" Lily cried. "I need you to help me here!"

But Mary Kate kept going. "Your mom's right. If they don't want you, you shouldn't want them. Your dad wants to visit with you now, and I don't want to hear all this. I hear it all the time at home."

"You're a coward!"

"Actually, yes," said the girl and disappeared in a puff of riotous hair.

Brooding, Lily folded herself into the corner of the sofa. "Why do friends run out on you when you need them the most?"

"Mary Kate isn't running out on you," Rick reasoned. He was sitting sideways on the sofa with an arm along its back. "She's giving us time." He touched her hair. "I do want to visit with you. You wouldn't say much on the phone. I still don't know the name of the guy."

"Why does it matter?" the girl said with just enough attitude to be mocking Susan. "It's done."

But Rick wasn't. "He's the father of your baby, and that baby is for life. Who he is matters to me because I'm your dad, and I care about you. I want anyone who touches you to be a decent person-okay, I know you were the instigator, but please tell me, at least, that you had real feelings for him."

Her eyes slipped away. "I did."

"Does he live here in town?"

"Yes."

"Is he a classmate?"

She leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. "If I were to tell, what would you do? Hit him up for money?" She turned to look at Rick. "He hasn't got it. Neither do his parents."

"The issue isn't money."

"Then marriage?" She looked at Susan. "You guys didn't marry. Why's this different?"

"Have I mentioned marriage?" Susan asked. She had stepped back, wanting to give Rick time with Lily. But the decision not to marry hadn't been his.

"You're thinking it."

"I am not." She would never want her daughter rushing into a marriage that might be bad. "And your situation is different from ours. I didn't plan to get pregnant. But once I was, Rick was the first person I told."

"And look what happened," Lily argued. "It caused so much trouble that his parents had to leave town."

"That's not why my parents moved," Rick said quietly.

"Then why?"

"Because…" He paused, frowned. "Because it was time. My sister was already gone, and I was on my way. There was nothing to keep them around. But at least they knew the score, and that made it easier-which is where I'm heading with this, Lily. You've put your mom in a lousy position. The more she knows, the better she'll be able to deal with it. Besides-trust me-the guy would want to know."

"Did you?"

"I did not want your mother to be pregnant. But given that she was, yes, I wanted to know. You're half mine."

"But you didn't marry her, because Mom didn't want to get married." Her voice rose. "Well, maybe I wanted it. Maybe I wanted a full-time father. Maybe those visits back to your parents were too scary, because I didn't know them, and I really didn't know you, and Mom wasn't there. Maybe it would have been better for me if you had married her," she said, building up steam. "But no, Mom wanted you to have a career. Rick wants to be the world traveler everyone knows and admires-and we all want what Rick wants, don't we." It wasn't a question. "Well, what about what I want? What's so awful about my setting my heart on something? Why can't everyone want what Lily wants for a change?"

Realizing what she'd said, Lily looked shocked. In a flash, she got off the sofa and ran from the room.

When Susan started to follow, Rick said, "Let her go."

"She has no right to criticize you."

"She does." He was sitting forward now, elbows on his knees. "I haven't been here for her. Maybe I didn't think enough about what she wanted."

"She's just upset, Rick. She's never said those things before. I should talk with her. She shouldn't be alone."

"Do you think she is?" Rick asked, and, of course, he was right. Alone was a relative concept. Lily would either be phoning, texting, or skyping.

Settling beside him on the sofa, Susan took his hand. "You should have told her the truth. Your parents moved away because of my dad."

"They didn't have to. They chose to. My mom's sister was in San Diego. They always wanted to retire there." He laced his fingers through hers.

"Only your father didn't retire. He worked for years afterward. No, Rick, it was my dad's fault. He took his anger out on your dad. They'd been best buddies, and suddenly the friendship was ruined."

"Well, it was an improbable friendship anyway, my dad the mail carrier, yours the mayor." He grew pensive. "When it was good, though, it was good. I was with them on some of those fishing trips. They could talk. It was like they were brothers, totally different from each other but with a really strong bond between them. I never figured out what it was."

"It was the brother thing," Susan said. Rick shot her a puzzled glance. "I had an uncle," she explained. "I never knew him. He died young. But my father adored him. They used to fish."

"No kidding?"

"Big Rick took his place."

"The brother thing?"

"My father's reaction must have been over the top because he had unrealistic expectations of your dad."

Rick considered that. "And here I always thought that was about your father being a public person in a small town and needing to make a statement. But hey"-he tightened his hold of her hand-"either way, my father let him do it. He could have stood up. He could have fought. That's what he should have done."

Susan studied his face. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. He might have talked some sense into your father. Instead, he caved-just walked away, and he lost a helluva lot more than just one friendship. I swear, he's afraid to come here to see Lily because he thinks that John Tate will find out. So his relationship with Lily is limited. She can visit him, but he can't visit her. He wouldn't even when Mom was alive. No, he should have fought. Lily's his only grandchild. He should have been more supportive."

"I never wanted his money."

"Not with money. With time. With attention." He sat back and rested his head on the sofa, his eyes still on hers. "He was on the right side."

"So is Lily when it comes to singing, but I told her not to fight. Should she?"

"Ideally, yes. But you nailed it. If she calls out the girls for voting her out, she alienates them further, in which case being back in the group wouldn't be fun." He closed his eyes.

"So she loses either way?"

He was quiet for a minute. "Maybe she wins either way. She'll have enough on her plate in a few months, and she sure doesn't need those girls."

"Okay. But she did earn her spot-and it was something I wanted her to have. I can't sing, but she has a beautiful voice."

"She didn't get it from me."

"It's from my mom, who has never even heard her sing."

"Her loss," Rick murmured tiredly and kissed her hand.

She settled against him. "Actually, it's ours, Lily's and mine. I thought it was bad when she was little and we had no relationship with my parents, but it gets worse every year. She's grown into such a talented young woman. She deserves to have adoring grandparents."

Rick's breathing was a little too even. Tipping her head back, Susan saw that he was asleep, and, for a few minutes, she watched. Finally, she closed her own eyes to better enjoy the beat of his heart.

They slept like that for three hours. Susan was the one who finally woke. Nudging him gently, she got him up to the guest bedroom, but he didn't stay there long. She was barely in her own bed when he stole in and closed the door.

There was nothing sleepy about him then. Whispering her name, he stroked her hair, her breasts, her belly. His hunger was contagious. For those precious minutes, she couldn't get enough-couldn't give enough-and when her body erupted, she cried aloud at the pleasure of it.

She would have woken Lily, had he not covered her mouth. He had become good at that over the years. He saw to taking care, both of Lily's sensibility and Susan's fertility-particularly gratifying now, Susan thought in the seconds before she fell asleep in his arms. If this mother and daughter were pregnant and unmarried?

Susan couldn't begin to imagine the havoc of that.