Not My Daughter

Susan shushed her gently.

'I always assumed I was a good parent,' Tanner said. 'Who of us doesn't? We do the best we can, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.' When he paused for a breath, the room remained still. 'When it doesn't, do we suddenly become a bad parent?'

'With due respect, Mr. Perry,' came Carl Morgan's gravelly voice, 'we are not the principal of the high school.'

'No. But we're CEOs of businesses, retired CFOs of the same, and the head of the Chamber of Commerce. We're members of the school board. We make decisions that affect a whole town of children.'

'What are you saying?'

Tanner was slow to respond, and still the room remained silent. 'I'm not saying anything,' he finally went on. 'I can't, because, as I said, I don't know the answers. So I'm asking. Are any of us perfect? Have we never made mistakes? Have we never had the experience of doing everything right and still having something go wrong?'

Duncan Haith spoke up, his own accent thicker than Tanner's. 'All good general questions, Mr. Perry, but let's be specific. This woman knew the pitfalls of having a baby at seventeen, and still she let her daughter do it.'

'You didn't-' Lily began to protest, but Susan held up a silencing hand.

'And you, Mr. Haith?' Tanner asked gently. 'If you knew the pitfalls of divorce, why would you let your daughter do it? Or you, Mr. Lombard? If you knew the pitfalls of drugs, how did two of your sons end up in rehab? Or you, Mr. Morgan? If you knew the pitfalls of estate planning, why is your wife's will being contested in court?'

'Whoa!' exclaimed Abby over the applause in the room.

'Yesss,' Lily cried.

Robbie whistled.

'That is a personal attack,' Carl Morgan charged.

'So is yours,' Tanner replied with uncharacteristic passion. 'People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.'

'I,' Carl stated, 'don't live in a glass house.'

'Then you're one of the few, Mr. Morgan. The rest of us aren't so perfect. We see some things and miss others. We try to be good parents, but who's to say that the next pact won't involve a child of ours?'

Neal Lombard's voice rose. 'You can't be objective. Susan Tate is a family friend.'

Tanner's voice turned thoughtful. 'True. I know Susan. I know all the mothers involved, and I know the girls. They're good girls who made a bad choice. Have none of our kids made bad choices? So do we ostracize them? Or do we offer a hand in help. They won't shame this community unless we invite the shame to exist.'

There was silence, then a burst from Carl. 'Your father must be rolling over in his grave. Responsibility was his credo.'

'It's mine, too,' Tanner argued. 'Anyone who knows me knows that. But if I'm a responsible person, I have to think responsibly. And when I do, I realize this discussion has grown too personal. The school board shouldn't be deciding who is or is not a good mother. This discussion should be limited to whether Ms. Tate is a good principal. I believe she is. Thank you. That's all I have to say.'

The meeting adjourned soon after. Between excited calls and texts, the car buzzed as loudly as the boardroom had when Tanner finished speaking.

Pam phoned Susan. 'He came through,' she said with what sounded like utter relief.

But Susan knew better. 'You were the one who got him thinking, Pam, and you got people to the meeting to hear him.'

'The best was the look on Neal's face. I wish you'd been here to see it.'

But she wasn't, and the reason why seemed to hit her at the same time as it did her friend. 'We're rooting for you,' Pam said quietly.

As they left the highway for the city streets, Susan needed all the help she could get. The pace here was light years removed from the pace in Zaganack. She was so not a city person, and thinking of the reason they'd come? Sobering.

Their hotel was adjacent to the hospital. They took two rooms, one for girls, one for guys. Had Robbie not come, Susan would have stayed with Rick. She was nervous, and he was steady.

But she had to settle for a hug.

***

It was before dawn when the wake-up call came. With the surgery scheduled for eight, Lily had to check in before seven. Susan had fully expected to walk her over alone, but none of the others wanted to be left behind.

For several minutes, they sat in the waiting room with other patients and their families. The occasional newspaper rustled; if there was talk, it was a murmur.

When the nurse who came for Lily waved Susan along, she went gratefully. Lily was frightened, her face pale, her eyes worried as each new person entered her cubicle. Susan held Lily's hand, whispered encouraging thoughts, answered questions asked of Lily when the girl was too tongue-tied to reply.

The doctor stopped by, as did the anesthesiologist, who inserted an IV for the medication that would sedate Lily during the procedure. She was wide awake, though, when they came to fetch her.

Leaning over, Susan tucked a last strand of hair into her cap. 'They say once the medication starts you won't remember much, but I want you to tell me everything you do. Your son will want to know the details.' She drew a heart in the outline of Lily's face. 'He has an amazingly good mother.'

Lily gave her a hug so tight that it hurt inside. Choked up, Susan watched them wheel the girl off.

So she was already feeling emotional when she returned to the waiting room. Between this day's surgery, last night's meeting, and all the days and nights of worry that had come before, her composure was nil. That may have explained why, when she approached Rick and saw the man and woman with him, she turned away.

Rick was quickly at her elbow, guiding her down the hall until she stopped, stared at him, and asked weakly, 'What was that?'

'My dad and your mom.'

'How?'

'I told Dad on Wednesday. I never dreamed he'd show up, much less with Ellen. I'm as surprised as you are.'

'She knows?'

'Looks it.'

'Did she want to come? Or did he force her?'

'Maybe a little of both. All I know is she looked terrified walking in here just now.'

Susan was terrified herself. 'I haven't had a decent conversation with her in years. What am I supposed to say now? I saw her last month and didn't tell her Lily was pregnant. I've talked with her on the phone since, and didn't tell her. Do I apologize? Do I try to explain? What am I supposed to do with her?'

'Nothing,' Rick said. 'My dad brought Ellen, so she's his responsibility. Your only responsibility is Lily.'

That sounded all well and good. But Ellen was her mother.

Of all the times Susan would have died for her mother's support, this wasn't one. She didn't want Ellen making her feel like a lousy mother-didn't want to spend one second wondering what Ellen thought about Lily's pregnancy. And as for Ellen's relationship with Big Rick, Susan could not have cared less.

Rick took her hand. 'C'mon. Let's go get coffee. They won't be starting the surgery for a while. It'll be close to an hour before we hear anything.'

They went to the coffee shop and split a doughnut, wandered through the lobby, explored the gift shop. When they ran out of places to go, Rick took her back upstairs.

Susan was prepared to see her mother this time. Still, she felt a jolt opening that door and meeting Ellen's eyes. The woman looked well-hair more silver than not, but stylishly combed, black slacks, peach sweater. The fact that she looked frightened was some consolation to Susan, who was frightened herself.

But she was, after all, a big girl now.