Not My Daughter

She might have laughed and said something about usually sleeping in socks, but she only murmured, 'You can't stay in Zaganack. I might get used to leaning on you, and that'd be bad because you will leave, sooner or later. It's in your blood.'

'How do you know?'

'Look at your life, Rick.'

'I am. I'm thinking I have a helluva lot of frequent flyer miles and nowhere to go. Susie, why are you picking a fight?'

'I'm being realistic.'

'I could rent somewhere in town if you don't want me living here. I could even buy a little house of my own.'

'In Zaganack? I wouldn't do that, if I were you. If my job falls through, I may have to leave.'

He was quiet. 'You don't want me here.'

'I do,' she said. 'That's the problem. I'm trying to protect myself. And what about Lily? If she gets used to having you here and you go, she'll be devastated.'

Again he was quiet. Then, 'I'm going to be a grandfather.'

Susan heard the awe in his voice and rode with it. 'What do you want to be called? Gramps? Papa Rick? Your dad is Grampa, so you can't use that.'

'Why not? He'll be Great-Grampa. Wonder what he'll have to say about that.'

'When'll you tell him?'

'When we know more.'

Susan crept back down the hall soon after that. She said she wanted to be in her own room if Lily needed her, but it was all part of the dependency thing. She could get used to sleeping with Rick. Even now, her bed felt cold.

She reached for socks. They were ones she had knit of a PC Wool colorway from two years ago-Bobcat Ridge, done in shades of gray, white, and gold. Thinking of PC Wool made her think of the catalogue shots that were overdue, which made her think of Pam, which made her think of the school board-not the nicest of thoughts, but paling in comparison to the prospect of a baby born ill.

Rick's presence didn't eliminate the worry, but he was a distraction for Lily, which was a help. Susan called the doctor's office twice a day, even over the weekend, but there was nothing.

Nor was there any news on Monday morning. In fact, quiet seemed to be the order of the day in general, when school resumed. She greeted students, none of whom mentioned Lily, the pact, or the Gazette. She was able to make headway on her midyear report, as well as on the staff evaluations she had to do before hiring for fall. For that little while, she felt she was the good principal, the good mother, and even the good friend, because when news came midday Monday that the oldest living Cass had died, the first thing she did was to call Pam.

They didn't talk for long. Pam was distracted by what sounded like a newsroom on her end. But Susan imagined she appreciated the call.

Chapter 23

The passing of a Cass went beyond Zaganack. The story broke online and was covered on the evening news and in newspapers nationwide. Funeral plans were extensive, allowing for attendance both by Zaganackians and by members of the national business community who had known and admired Henry Cass. The governor and one of Maine's senators planned to attend.

It was a sorrowful occasion. But Susan wasn't sorry for the preoccupation of the town. Coming on the heels of the holiday breather, this was another event that deflected attention from Susan's issues with the board.

With the town shut down on Wednesday for the funeral, there was no school, which was why Susan was home when she got the amnio results. She had gone upstairs alone to call the doctor, thinking to spare Lily another roller-coaster moment. When she was done, she pressed the phone to her chest, closed her eyes in a tiny prayer, and ran down the stairs.

Lily was in the den. She had a chem text open on her lap, but she was knitting. When she saw Susan, the peace on her face turned to fear.

Susan burst into a smile. 'The baby is fine!' She took Lily's face in her hands. 'No genetic disorder, no chromosome abnormality, no neural tube defect. He is perfect.'

Lily closed her eyes and let out a long, grateful sigh.

Hearing a quieter version of that, Susan looked back at Rick, who stood under the archway looking relieved.

'But he still has CDH?' Lily asked.

Susan would have given anything to deny it, but denial wouldn't make things easier. 'Yes. The sonogram next week will tell us more-but this is big, sweetheart. Ruling out these other things makes what we have to face absolutely doable.' Susan kissed her forehead. 'This is a huge relief. Definitely cause for hope.'

Likewise was Thursday's Gazette, which was a cover-to-cover eulogy for Henry Cass. There were histories of his role in the store, lengthy stories of his life, full-page memorials sponsored by Perry & Cass departments and other business interests for miles around. There were three full pages of letters to the editor, every one of them a tribute to the man.

Susan didn't read each in detail. She had been at the funeral and heard the praise, and while these letters were lovely, she was simply pleased to have faded from view herself.

That changed on Friday night. With Rick at the house, Susan worked late at school. She had just arrived home and was hanging up her coat when the front doorbell rang. Shooting a puzzled look at Rick and Lily, who were together at the stove, she went to answer it.

The man outside was thirtyish and wore a down parka and jeans. 'Susan?' he asked in a friendly enough way, his breath white in the frosty air.

She gave him a curious smile. 'Do I know you?'

'I'm Jonathan Hicks. I'm with NBC. We were in town covering the Cass funeral. I understand you're the principal of the high school. Do you think we could talk?'

Susan was uneasy. 'I can't tell you much about Henry Cass. I didn't know him personally.'

'We're doing a bigger piece on the town. Zaganack is unique in the way it combines business with tourism. How long have you lived here?'

Looking beyond him, she saw a van at the curb. It had the call letters of the Portland affiliate on its side and a satellite dish on the top. She was very uneasy. 'Not as long as most. If you're doing a piece on the town, there are others who can tell you more.'

'They sent me to you,' he began, then abruptly stopped.

Rick had approached. 'What did you say your name was?' he asked the reporter.

'Jon Hicks.' He seemed puzzled. 'Man, do you look like-' He swore under his breath. 'Damn. You beat me. But you don't do local feed. Last I saw footage of you, you were in… in Botswana.'

'Close enough,' Rick said, confirming his identity. 'What're you after?'

'Same thing you are.'

Rick smiled. 'I doubt that. Who sent you here?'

'The guy who heads the Chamber of Commerce. He said Susan was a good example of Gen X and that she had an interesting story to tell.'

Susan bet the head of the Chamber of Commerce had said a lot more. Neal Lombard was the school board member who had suggested she take a leave.

'What story?' she asked.

'A pregnancy pact.'

Not knowing what to say, much less how to react, she was relieved when Rick took over. 'There's no