A Child's Wish. Tara Quinn Taylor
then so are you.”
Trite words, maybe. But Meredith felt the truth of them clear to her core. “It’s up to you to put the promise back in your future, Susan. Or not to, in which case you’re right and you’ll never have it again.”
“I mentioned Bud the other night, when I was with Mark.”
“And?”
“I started to cry.”
“And Mark was good to you, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Susan’s gaze lightened as she smiled softly. “He was.”
“TOMMY BARNETT transferred schools today.”
“Shit.”
The two women were still sitting at the table, nursing their wine. It had been weeks since they’d spent this much time together. Meredith hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it. Susan was one of the few people with whom she felt completely safe—with whom she didn’t have to hide or filter her natural reactions, her thoughts.
“Mark threatened to fire me if there are any more ‘episodes.’” She said the word as if it were nasty and needed to be hidden.
“He’s blind as a bat on this one, but he has a good heart.”
“I know.” Meredith nodded. “Otherwise I’d never have trusted him with you.”
Susan sat back, wineglass in hand, slowly sipping. “I just wish I got along better with Kelsey.”
Meredith did, too. She was missing something there. They all were. In her spare time, when she thought about it, it was driving her crazy. “She’ll come around,” was the best she could manage to offer.
“Do you really think so?”
Oh, no. Susan was giving her that look: she wanted complete truth.
“I think it’s possible,” Meredith said slowly, trying her best to differentiate between what she thought and what she felt—to separate it all from the depression that had been threatening to descend ever since she’d been summoned to Mark’s office the previous Friday.
Susan nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Because Mark meant that much to her. Which was exactly what Meredith wanted for her.
So why did the thought make her melancholy when it should have brought her joy? Was her own situation pulling her that far down?
If so, she was going to have to do something to change that. Immediately.
“You want to go for ice cream?”
“A banana pie creamie?”
The first time they’d shared that concoction from a local ice cream carry-out chain, they’d been in college.
“We could take one to Mark.” If she came bearing a delight to feed his ice-cream fetish, maybe he wouldn’t dislike her so much.
“Kelsey loves cookie dough,” Susan said.
“There you go! You’re already learning how to please her.” Meredith began to clear the table, and with Susan’s help they made short work of the dishes. “All it takes is paying attention to the little things and Kelsey’ll come around,” Meredith assured her friend as they drove across town in Susan’s silver BMW. She hoped she was right and that it would really be that easy. “Kelsey’s like anyone else,” she added. “She just needs to know that she matters.”
“Did Mark tell you she refused to go see her best friend from across town today? He’d made arrangements with the girl’s mother and had to call and cancel that, too.”
“Mark and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms today,” Meredith said slowly, thinking about Kelsey. “Did she and Lucy have a fight?”
“Apparently not.”
Meredith looked at the houses they passed, noting the lights on in living rooms, kitchens, bedrooms, wondering about the darkened ones. So many people, so many lives saturated with hope and fear and love and regret; so many emotions. Trapping her.
“I told Mark I’d be happy to keep Kelsey overnight any weekend the two of you want some time alone,” she said slowly, deciphering her feelings as she spoke. “Maybe we should do it this weekend. Think you can come up with a plan to entice him?”
Susan pulled to a stop at the corner. “You want some time alone with her.”
“I enjoy Kelsey.”
“You’re worried about her and you want to see if you can figure anything out.”
Meredith didn’t answer. She had no idea if there was anything wrong with Kelsey Shepherd other than the usual little-girl jealousy that came with the territory when a single dad started dating. She had no idea if there was any real justification for this feeling that she should be paying special attention to Kelsey right now. She had no idea if she was being overemotional, reacting to the trauma of the past several days, or if she was getting intuitive guidance.
“I’ll make it happen,” Susan said, her foot back on the gas.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I THINK I WANT HER, Don.”
Barbie Shepherd lay naked in her lover’s arms, hoping he wasn’t going to get all bossy and manly—and hoping he’d stay in bed with her until she fell asleep. She hated nights. The dark, the loneliness….
“Want who?”
“Kelsey.”
Every time she’d thought about the idea in the four days since her daughter had last been here, a good feeling had come over her. Now that Kelsey had met Don—and more importantly, now that he’d met her—she couldn’t be happy without being a real mom again.
“You want her to live here with us, you mean?” His voice was soft, kind of hoarse, like it got right before they had sex. Or right afterward.
He had to leave soon, on a run to Colorado. She toyed with his nipple. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Really?” she asked. “You mean it?”
“Sure.” Don leaned over, licked her breast, his beard tickling her. Then he sat up, reaching for the cigarettes that were never farther away than the nightstand. She watched the amber flicker of the lighter’s flame, saw the cigarette catch and glow as Don inhaled deeply. Took her own drag when he handed it to her and lit a second one for himself.
“I’m her mother. I have rights.”
“Of course, you do.” The end of the cigarette disappeared between his whiskers and Barbie told herself he was a good-looking man. Especially in the semidarkness, when you couldn’t see his teeth.
“You’re the one who carried her around in your body,” he said now, running a finger lightly from her breasts down and over her belly. “You went through labor, gave birth to her…”
“Breast-fed her and raised her for the first five and half years of her life…”
“She’s an asset,” he continued. “Your asset.”
Yeah. Kelsey was someone who had to love her, no matter what.
“Kids are good for lots of things,” Don went on, letting the ash grow dangerously long before flicking it into the ashtray. “She can help you out around here.”
She hadn’t thought of that. Kelsey had still been too young to be of much use when Barbie had left. Not that she’d minded. She’d liked taking care of her. Still…
“So, what do I do?” she asked now, straddling his stomach as she leaned over to flick off her ashes.
Crushing the remains