Not My Daughter

was the whole point about ratcheting up our coverage in the catalogue. She wants this to work.'

'And I don't?' Sunny asked. 'PC Wool is a growing part of the department I manage. If something happens to it, my department sees a loss.'

Kate waved a hand. 'Whoa. This is my entire livelihood. If something happens to PC Wool, I'm out of work! Susan's right. You have to ease up, Sunny. We need Pam on our side.'

Sunny stared at her, then rose and grabbed her coat. 'Pam's right. You don't need me here.'

'Sunny-'

'Oh please-'

'No, no,' Sunny insisted, pushing her arms into the sleeves. 'I'm better off at home imposing rigid rules on my family. She wouldn't have said any of that if she'd grown up the way I did. We were on our own-no rules at all- parents who totally resisted them.' She finished buttoning her coat. 'I do believe in structure. Children need to know what their parents expect. And still sometimes they break the rules. I'm trying to cope.'

'You have to listen,' Susan said. 'My parents wouldn't. That's what I was trying to say Thursday night. My way or the highway-that was my dad's credo, and look where it got us.'

But Sunny was past hearing. 'My daughter and I aren't talking, my husband and I aren't talking, and I'm trying to hold things together. I'm just doing my best. Isn't that what a good mother does?'

'Yes,' Susan cried, but Sunny kept going, and Susan didn't follow this time. She was too discouraged. Turning back to Kate, she waited only until the front door closed, then echoed Sunny's words. 'I'm just doing my best. Aren't we all?'

Was her best enough? Susan used to think so-used to believe she had done the best job in the world with Lily. Now, with critics all around, she was second-guessing herself.

She thought she was a good principal. In her mind, openness set the right tone. But maybe she should be more punitive in her approach.

She thought she was a good friend, but she had let Pam, then Sunny, walk out the door. Maybe she should have been more insistent that they stay and work things out.

Hell, she didn't even know if the last two colors she and Kate had formulated were any good-and now Pam and Sunny were angry, the catalogue issue was unresolved, and the survival of PC Wool itself was in doubt.

And finally, here was Lily, home at six on Saturday evening, joining Susan in the den to complain of heartburn-a perfect opportunity for Susan to coddle her daughter, who might, just might not have bargained for what she got. But the best Susan could do was to offer to reheat pizza left over from dinner earlier that week.

Lily's sigh said it all. Dismally, the girl looked out the front window-then ducked and croaked, 'Omigod. Robbie and his parents. Omigod.'

Susan froze. 'Here? Now?'

'Coming up our walk,' the girl whispered as the bell rang. 'Don't answer. Do not answer.'

Susan didn't want to. She wasn't any more ready for a confrontation than Lily, but what choice did she have? 'They must have been waiting for you to get home. They know we're here. The car's in the driveway and the lights are on.' Besides, hiding would only postpone the inevitable. Robbie must have said something to his parents.

Bracing herself for yet more flagellation, she opened the door. Bill and Annette Boone stood there, with Robbie slightly behind. The boy looked nervous and his parents awkward, maybe even guilty. It occurred to her that they didn't know who had seduced whom.

'I think we need to talk,' said Bill.

Stepping back, Susan gestured them inside. Lily was leaning against the archway to the den, hands in her pockets, arms pressed to her sides as if to contain her panic. She was barely looked at by the senior Boones when Susan shepherded them to the couch. Taking his cue from Lily, Robbie stood against the opposite arch.

'Would you like something to drink?' Susan asked his parents.

'I'd take a double scotch straight up if I thought it would help,' Bill said.

His wife looked at him. 'Is this amusing?' Then at Robbie. 'Is anything about this amusing?'

Bill cleared his throat and addressed Susan. 'Our son tells us he's the father of Lily's baby. I take it you figured that's why we're here, so she must have told you, but we'd like to hear it from her.'

All eyes turned on Lily, who looked cornered.

Say it, Susan instructed silently. They have a right to hear it. You cannot lie.

After what seemed an eternity, the girl nodded.

'How can we know for sure?' Annette asked.

'You can't,' replied Lily in low voice.

'She certainly can,' Susan argued. She didn't like Annette's tone, but Lily's wasn't much better. 'When I asked the same question,' she told the Boones, 'my daughter was offended. She told me she would know, because she's only been with one boy in her life. I believe her.'

'If she was my daughter, I'd believe her, too. That doesn't mean it's so.'

'Mom. It is,' Robbie said.

His father held up a hand and said softly, 'Please, Annette. We agreed we would do this. I know you want proof, but we can't do a paternity test until after the baby is born, and in the meanwhile, there's a good chance this young girl is carrying our grandchild.' He looked at Susan again. 'We're prepared to help.'

Hadn't her father said something like that? And he hadn't stopped there. We're prepared to help you get set up, but you won't do it here. Susan refused to have her daughter exposed to that.

'We're all set,' Susan said. 'No help needed.'

'Babies are expensive.'

'We'll manage.'

'I'll be glad to marry Lily,' Robbie offered.

'Robbie,' his mother protested.

'I will,' he insisted with a naivete Susan might have found endearing if she hadn't been down that road before.

'Lily's father said much the same thing to me.' Susan looked at Lily. 'Do you want to get married?'

'No way. Married at seventeen is stupid!'

Like motherhood at seventeen, Susan was thinking, when Annette said, 'It would only make a bad situation ten times worse.'

That hit Susan the wrong way. 'For the record,' she said, 'Robbie could do far worse. Lily will be a great mother. I just don't want her rushing into marriage.'

'Good to know,' Annette remarked. 'And while we're being honest, I'd prefer it if you didn't send the school an update about this.'

That, too, hit Susan wrong. 'With due respect, Robbie isn't my major concern right now. No one will hear his name from me. Lily?'

Lily puffed out a breath and held up a hand, No.

'I'm not ashamed,' Robbie told his parents in a voice far bolder than his expression. 'Lily is the coolest person in school. If people ask me, I'm telling.'

'Do not do that, Robbie,' Lily ordered, her hand now on her middle.

'Why not? Are you ashamed?'

'No, but this isn't about you. This baby is mine.'

'It's half mine,' Robbie argued.

Susan quickly stood. 'Excuse me,' she said in a voice that trembled, 'I can't deal with a custody battle right now. This argument is better saved until after the baby is born. I suspect your parents agree.'

'Completely,' Annette said, on her feet as well.

Susan moved toward the door. The meeting was over. She wanted these people out of her house. 'Thank you, Robbie. It was kind of you to come.' She opened the door.

Annette left without a word. After a quick look at Lily, Robbie followed. Only Bill paused and said quietly, 'The offer of help stands.'

'Thanks, Bill. But really, we're fine.' The instant he cleared the threshold, Susan closed the door and, feeling the kind of wildness that comes from one trauma too many, looked at Lily. 'Nightmare! Robbie wants to take credit. Like he has a job and can provide child support? Like he had a say in this? And Annette's angry-like I'm not? Does she not get it that my job is