When she closed her laptop, he closed his and suggested they drive to Boston. Since he rarely stayed for more than two or three days, it was a gift Susan couldn't refuse. In no time, he booked a hotel suite, made several nights' worth of dinner reservations, and, knowing that Susan and Lily adored the ballet, bought tickets to The Nutcracker. Once in Boston, they found so much else to do that they stayed until New Year's morning. They were packing to check out when Susan called her mother again.
'It's Susan. Happy New Year, Mom.'
There was a cordial 'And to you.'
'How are you doing?'
'I'm fine. I went to the Cummings' for dinner last night.'
'You did?' It was an annual New Year's Eve event, but Susan hadn't been sure Ellen would go so soon after John's death. 'I'm glad. Did they have a big crowd?'
'Not this year. I wouldn't have gone if they had. I don't love crowds.'
'But they're all friends.'
'Too many people,' Ellen said and was quiet for a moment, before abruptly asking, 'Is Rick with you?'
'Yes. Why do you ask?'
'Big Rick called. He said Rick was visiting him and left. Something about seeing Lily.'
Susan caught Rick's eye. Does your dad know about Lily? she mouthed. Rick shook his head. 'He's been here since Saturday,' she told Ellen and might have comfortably segued into Lily's news, except that there was nothing comfortable about Lily's news. Telling Ellen would be testing a relationship that was shaky at best. She had no idea how her mother would react.
So she simply said, 'We've had a great time.'
'That's nice.'
'Big Rick was sweet to call you.'
'It was a short call. He's feeling bad that he didn't see your father before he died. He asked what I was doing with your father's fishing gear. He'd like to buy it.'
'Do you have other plans for it?'
'No. But I can't think about disposing of things. It's too soon.'
'I understand. It is. You must miss Dad.'
'He was a good husband.'
Susan wanted to add he was a good father, but couldn't get the words out. He had loved her once, but not when it really counted. As for being communicative, even in the best of times, they had never been confidants.
Was being a good father altogether different from being a good mother? The world would say yes, which meant that the bar was higher for mothers. That didn't seem fair.
'Well,' Susan said. 'I guess that's it for the holidays. If you ever feel like getting away, we have a spare room. I'd love you to come.'
There was a pause, then a sharp, 'Is that because your father can't?'
Susan refused to be baited. 'No, Mom. I invited both of you soon after I bought the house, but you said Dad wouldn't fly east. I repeated the invitation several times. This is just once more.'
'Well,' Ellen said, more measured again, 'I'm not yet ready to think of going places. But thank you. I'll keep the invitation in mind. Bye, Susan.'
As they headed home later that day, Susan had a hollow feeling. She blamed it first on her mother-would it have been so difficult for her to say she would come?-but by the time they hit the New Hampshire border, the hollowness was a knot. Returning to Zaganack meant returning to everything she had been trying to forget. Now it rushed back. They still had the weekend, but she couldn't shake the idea that this was the calm before the storm. By Monday, the town would be up and running again, Susan would be back at school, Rick would be gone, Lily would be waiting for the test results. This little break would be done.
Susan crept down the hall that night, carefully avoiding the floorboards that creaked, but she wanted to lie with Rick. They had been good-nothing prior to going to Boston, and at the hotel, he had used the foldout in the living room, while Susan shared the bedroom with Lily. But if he was leaving, she wanted this first.
He was reading. With a finger to her lips, she quietly closed the door, tiptoed to the bed, and pulled her nightgown over her head. Naked, she knelt over him, but she left the light on. Too often they made love in the dark. This time she wanted to see the way his sable hair was messed, the way his cheeks grew red under his tan. She wanted to see his hands on her, wanted to see his face when, rearing back, he found his release.
Afterward, she lay in his arms. The light was out now, heightening other senses. Being naked with Rick was her chocolate after a diet of veggies. She was savoring every last bite.
The thought made her smile.
'What?' he asked.
'You're my splurge.'
'Good. I was thinking I'd stick around for a few days.'
Startled, she rose on an elbow to see his face. 'You don't usually.'
'I don't usually have a child in crisis.'
'There's really nothing to do. We're just waiting.'
'I can wait, too,' he said, adding soberly, 'What'll we do if there are other abnormalities?'
'She won't hear of abortion.'
'What if the baby doesn't have a prayer in hell of living?'
She rested her cheek on his chest and whispered, 'I don't know.'
'To carry it to term and then lose it within hours of its birth would be devastating.'
'I know.'
'She'll need our advice. What would yours be?'
Susan wanted to say she couldn't go there. Only she had been doing just that in unbidden moments since the first sonogram. 'I saw the heartbeat.'
'You agree with her, then.'
'I don't know.' How to explain her feelings, when they were so complex? 'Being pregnant right now is not what I wanted for Lily. I wouldn't have minded if she miscarried spontaneously. If that makes me a horrible mother, I'm a horrible mother, but my first thought was for the well-being of my own child. Seeing that heartbeat? That's something else. If it were earlier in the pregnancy, I might say we should terminate it. But she's almost halfway through. I don't know if I could tell her to do that. I don't know if it would be the best thing for her. She's come this far. She's bonded with this child. She may need to see it through, and if she has to deal with sorrow, she will.'
Rick was quiet.
'What would you tell her?' Susan asked.
He took a breath. 'I don't know. I haven't seen the heartbeat.'
'Stick around and you will,' Susan warned, then added, 'But how can you stay? The network calls you constantly.'
'They're spoiled. Maybe I have to unspoil them.'
'What does your contract say?'
'That I'm a free agent in two months. They haven't made an offer yet. Money's an issue. I make more than most. They can hire two twenty-somethings for what they pay me.'
'But you have a following. They won't want you to leave. They'll renew your contract.'
'They may change the terms. Am I prepared to take less money for more work? With a child starting college?'
Susan was wistful. 'She's made it easy for you there. Percy State costs less than the Ivy League. But if you blow them off, where would you go? Another network?'
'I could. I could also write. You said it yourself. I have a following. I've been places in the last few years that would make for great books.'
'But you love traveling.'
'I'd travel. Just not as much.' He moved his legs. 'Your feet are cold.'
