Not My Daughter

from Phil about the budget she had just submitted. She had to address his queries, had to answer urgent parent questions, had to write college recommendations for three students she had taught as freshmen and with whom she remained close. As she stared at the screen, a note arrived from the woman heading the auction that was held every February to raise money for class trips. She was reminding Susan that copy was due for the PC Wool contribution she had offered, which got Susan to thinking that the past few Saturdays had been a bust workwise, that they hadn't begun testing spring colors, much less produced something to photograph for Pam. She wondered if Pam was going to want to go ahead at all once she learned the whole truth-which got Susan into a snit, because she loved PC Wool and couldn't bear the thought that it might be at risk because Lily had decided she needed to have a baby.

Beside herself with dismay, Susan strode into the den, snatched up her knitting, and settled cross-legged on the sofa, but she didn't have the wherewithal to focus on finishing the heel. She needed straight, simple stockinette stitches. Tossing the sock aside, she stomped back into the kitchen, pulled the T-shirt from her knitting bag, and, for a minute, standing there at the table set for a dinner that wasn't to be, she knit feverishly. She was thinking that she was doing a lousy job-lousy knitter, lousy principal, lousy mother-when a loud knock at the door interrupted her.

Startled, she jumped up, dropping a handful of stitches, and, tossing the knitting aside in disgust, went to answer the door.

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.