“Why? This is better than the stupid bus station.”
“I said no argument.”
“But, Mama, she’s my grandma.”
Before Suzanna could argue the point, Ida returned with two pieces of cake. She handed one to Annie and set the other on the side of the table. “I brought extra in case you’d like a piece.”
“Not me,” Suzanna said. “I’m stuffed, but I’ll join you in a cup of coffee.”
The next hour flew by as Ida told how William had searched for Tommy several times.
“Not at first,” she said. “Back then he claimed he didn’t care if he ever heard from the lad again; said if that’s how Tommy wanted it, then it was fine with him. But that was just a lot of bluster and hurt feelings. I could tell how much he missed—”
“Tommy didn’t ever try to get in touch with his dad?” Suzanna cut in.
Ida blinked. “You call your dad Tommy?”
Being so wrapped up in Ida’s story, Suzanna had obviously forgotten herself. She did a quick turnabout, laughed, and said, “Not really. I guess I called him Tommy because you were; to me he’s just Dad.”
“How is Tommy and where—”
A young man poked his head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Parker, but I thought you’d like to know they’re starting to clear the tables.”
Ida gave a nod, and then he was gone. With a bit of reluctance, she stood and said, “Wait here; I won’t be all that long. I just want to say goodbye to my guests.”
Suzanna stood also. “No problem. We should be leaving anyway.”
“Leaving? You can’t leave now, we’ve barely gotten to know one another.”
“I wish it could be longer, but Annie and I are on our way to New Jersey. We just wanted to come by and pay our respects—”
“Why so soon? I’m certain your husband would understand if—”
Without taking time to think about it, Suzanna said, “There is no husband. Annie’s father wasn’t the marrying kind. We’re planning to stay with a friend in New Jersey.”
“But surely your friend would understand if you spent a day or two with the grandmother you haven’t seen since you were an infant.”
Although it was doubtful that Suzanna could say whether it was the sorrowful look on Ida’s face or the thought of sleeping on a park bench that brought about her change of mind, she wavered for a moment, then said, “I guess we could stay the night, if you’re sure it’s no inconvenience.”
“Of course it’s not. With Bill gone I’m alone in that big old house, and it’s terribly lonely. I’d welcome the thought of having someone to talk with.”
Suzanna
Just One Night
AS SHE SAT THERE WAITING for Ida’s return, Suzanna thought back on their conversation and found herself almost envious of the love Ida had for the deceased William. She had not known such a love since she’d lost her mama, and now, more than ever before, she could feel the vastness of the hole that remained in her heart.
The truth was she wanted to stay just as much as Annie did, but she was afraid of the questions that would arise; questions about the man who was supposed to be her daddy. Tommy. A mean-spirited man who she imagined to be much the same as the daddy she’d grown up with. A man with bottled-up anger and very little love to give.
Thoughts of her father brought back memories of the last time she’d seen him and the terrible row they’d had. By then she was big and round with Annie, so there was no more hiding the pregnancy. He’d railed over what he called her deplorable condition and said she was an embarrassment that he wanted gone from his sight. She’d packed a bag and left, hoping he’d call her back, say his harsh words were a mistake, and ask her to stay. He didn’t. Not that night. Not ever. Now almost eight years had gone by, and they’d not spoken to one another.
Suzanna was thinking of how sad it was that Annie had never known her father, her grandfather, or grandmother when the idea came to her. She could substitute her own father for the dreadful Tommy if the need arose. She would say they were estranged and had not spoken in years. After all, it was only for one night, so what harm could it possibly cause?
——————
BY THE TIME IDA SAID goodbye to reception guests and gathered her things, it was after 6 p.m. when they returned to the house. As they rounded the corner of Homer Street and pulled into the driveway of a huge grey Victorian with white trim and a wrap-around porch, Suzanna gasped. “This is it?”
“Afraid so,” Ida replied. “As you can see, it’s way too much house for one person.”
Suzanna climbed out of the car, then stood looking up at the steep-roofed turret, towering chimneys, and muntined windows.
“It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said. “How wonderful it must be to live in a place like this.”
Ida gave a sorrowful-sounding sigh. “It was, until Bill passed away. But being here alone makes it feel a bit like a mausoleum.”
Having grown up in a house that was a handful of nails from falling down, Suzanna couldn’t imagine being unhappy in such a grand house.
“You got any kids?” Annie asked.
Ida chuckled. “Afraid not, but if you’re looking for a playmate I’ve got something even better.” She slid her key in, twisted the lock, and before the door was fully open, a brown and white spotted dog came charging out. His bark was bigger than his body, and he had a tail that never stopped wagging.
Annie gave a squeal of delight. “Can I play with him?”
“Absolutely. His name is Scout, and he loves to play.” She stepped inside and Scout followed. “There’s a ball here somewhere…” She glanced around the living
