Not My Daughter

Listening to hymns sung by the church choir's soprano, Susan choked up at the intense sense of loss. She didn't realize she was trembling until Lily wrapped both arms around her. And then there was another arm. Through tears, she looked up at Rick. He kissed her forehead.

The wind wasn't as bothersome then. With Rick's warmth on her left and Lily's on her right, she listened to the prayers and the eulogies. By the time the soprano sang again, Susan was feeling loved, at least.

They didn't see her mother leave. Ellen would have been flanked by Jack and his family, anyway, and Susan was focused forward, working her way through the departing crowd toward the grave. Refusing to remember the bad now, only the good-how many times had her father succumbed to her pleading and reread Amelia Bedelia-she watched while two grave diggers shoveled dirt over the coffin, watched closely, making sure they were doing it right, until there was no mahogany left to see.

Finally, she took a shuddering breath. She held Lily for a minute, but it was only when she turned to Rick with clear eyes now that she saw the man who stood not far from his shoulder.

She gasped and, teary again, reached for him. She had seen Big Rick several times over the years, but always on the West Coast. Knowing that he was here for the first time in nearly as long as it had been for her, she began to weep.

'Thank you for coming,' she finally managed. She had said the words dozens of times at the house, but truly felt them now.

'I wasn't sure I should,' Big Rick said, and this close he was big indeed. If Rick was six-four, his dad had to be six-six.

'I insisted,' Rick said. 'He needed to be here. We were shooting to arrive yesterday but had to spend the night in Chicago. You doin' okay?'

Susan nodded. 'Lily's been great.'

Big Rick gave Lily a kiss. 'It's been too long,' he said. If he knew she was pregnant, he didn't let on, and once back at the house, Susan understood why. When he had expressed qualms about returning, he hadn't been kidding. He was awkward seeing these people again, and though old friends greeted him with smiles, he remained visibly ill at ease. Susan was about to ask Rick about that, when she noticed Ellen looking straight at his dad.

Quietly, Big Rick excused himself and worked his way through the crowd. He stood for a minute before Ellen, then gave her a gentle hug, and where Ellen had been dry-eyed moments before, now her shoulders shook and her hand clutched his sweater. Confused, Susan looked at Rick.

He smiled crookedly. 'I didn't guess either.'

'Guess what?'

'That there was more to his leaving than just us.'

Susan was too astonished to follow. 'What more?'

Rick steered her away from the crowd. 'I'm at his house, thinking he's coming back here with me, and he starts to balk. He says John wouldn't like it. When I ask why, he explains. Apparently, he and Ellen had a special attachment.'

'Special attachment?'

'Were sweet on each other.'

'Had an affair?'

'No, they just liked each other a lot. Your father thought it was more, though, and while he was railin' on about me, he lit into my dad. 'Chip off the old block. Can't get the one for you, so your boy takes the other. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree.''

'That's awful!'

'Which-the accusation or the affection?'

'The accusation. Did your mother think there was something between them?'

'No. She knew my father loved her. Maybe it was a macho thing on John's part, because everyone else knew Ellen loved her husband. I don't know why he'd be insecure.'

Nor did Susan. 'Your father moved away because of that?'

'It was part of the picture.'

Susan looked across the room. Ellen was talking with Big Rick now, only as animated-no more, no less-than she had been with other friends from out of town. When several local people recognized Big Rick and approached, she disappeared.

'Where's Lily?' Rick asked, looking around.

'Walking around, I guess. She's feeling a little lost.'

'Does anyone know?'

'No. Does your dad?'

'No. I'm guessing this hasn't been a fun trip for her.'

Susan shot him a rueful look. 'She was hoping something good would happen.'

Lily had been too cautious to explore the house the day before. She felt she was being watched and didn't want to be caught snooping.

This afternoon was different. She knew there were three rooms in the side wing and wanted to see which one had been her mother's. The first door she opened was to her grandparents' room, dominated by a four-poster double bed piled high with coats. The next door opened to a full bathroom, larger than the lav off the kitchen, and the one after that to a boy's room that she guessed, from the banners and trophies, had barely changed since Jackson lived there. The room at the end of the hall had to be Susan's.

Only it hadn't been a bedroom for years, to judge from the worn sofa cushions, stuffed bookshelves, and overflowing baskets of yarn. This was a sitting room, and, right now, perhaps escaping the crowd for a few minutes, it held her grandmother. She was knitting.

Lily hated the way Ellen had treated her mother, and would have liked to speak up in defense of Susan, much as she had done to Jack. But this woman was older. And she was her grandmother. Hadn't Lily always wanted to meet her?

Ellen didn't see her at first, and Lily didn't quite know what to do. Then the woman looked up, and Lily refused to run. The fact that Ellen seemed stunned gave her strength.

Ellen blinked first. Her eyes fell to her work. So did Lily's. Here was something to discuss.

'What are you making?' Lily asked from the door.

'A sock.'

'Do you like making socks?'

'Yes.'

'Have you made a lot?'

'I have.'

Lily was challenged. Ellen might not be much of a talker, but there had to be a way to get her to say more than two words. 'You're using circulars. Why don't you use DPNs?'

Ellen seemed surprised by the question. But her voice remained quiet. 'I'm hemmed in by DPNs. Two circulars feel more open.' She stopped, then started again. 'Lots of ladders with DPNs. I don't get them with circulars.'

'Have you ever tried Magic Loop?'

Ellen reached into her bag and pulled out the second sock. It was being worked on one very long circular needle. Magic Loop.

Lily smiled. They did have this in common. 'Which do you prefer?'

'I'm more comfortable with two circulars.' Ellen paused. 'I take it you knit, too.'

'Absolutely. My best friends' moms are my mom's partners. We all knit. Are those for you?'

Ellen fingered the socks and nodded. 'Winter's coming on. The warmth will be good.'

'Are they merino?'

'With a touch of alpaca and silk.'

But not PC Wool. Lily knew that from the color, which was neutral, perhaps practical, but bland. 'They look soft.'

Ellen held out one of the socks.

Pleased by the invitation, Lily approached. Opening her hand, she cradled the sock to examine the pattern. It had elements of lace and was more complicated than anything Lily had made. Lace was the rage, but only for knitters who had the time and the skill. 'You knit beautifully.'