Susannah's Garden (24 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: Susannah's Garden
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CHAPTER
37

“D
oes Dad know about Grandma?” Chrissie asked, sitting down on the waiting-room sofa.

Susannah shook her head. She’d tried to reach him but Joe wasn’t home and apparently he’d turned off his cell phone. She’d left a message, and that was all she could do for now.

“Don’t you think you should tell him?”

“He’ll call as soon as he gets my message.” She took out her cell, then noticed the sign on the wall warning against the use of cell phones in the hospital. Luckily there was a pay phone down the hall. Chrissie walked with her and stood by while Susannah called collect. Brian answered and accepted the charges.

“Hidy, ho,” Brian sang. “How come you’re calling collect?”

“Hi. Is your dad home yet?”

“Hey, Mom, what’s wrong?” Apparently her son hadn’t listened to the message.

“I need to talk to your dad,” she said without explaining.

Her son asked, “Is everything all right?”

Susannah lowered her gaze and tried not to look at Chrissie, who was examining her like a biology specimen under the microscope. “Everything’s going to be fine.” And it would be once she spoke to Joe. He was her touch-stone, and she needed him.

“Where’s Joe?” she asked.

“Hey, Mom, hold on, I hear him in the garage. He was at some get-together with his dentist friends.” Brian put down the phone with a clatter.

Susannah could hear her son talking in the background, and a minute later, Joe picked up.

“Hi,” she said softly, loving him so much she wanted to weep. This time apart was wearing on her, wearing on him, too. “Mom fell and broke her hip,” she said without preamble.

“How is she?” Joe asked, immediately concerned.

“Chrissie and I are at the hospital. Mom’s in surgery now….” Susannah’s voice faltered.

“Susannah?”

“She might need to have a hip replacement.” Stifling a sob, she waited a moment before continuing. “Joe, she hit her head on a pool table, of all things, and was knocked unconscious. Altamira took care of everything. I can’t imagine what might’ve happened if she’d been at home or by herself.” These scenarios had played through Susannah’s mind ever since she’d arrived at the hospital.

“Do you need me to come over and be with you?” he asked.

Susannah knew how difficult it was for him to get away at the last minute. “I…I think it’ll be okay. I’ll have a better idea once Mom’s out of surgery.”

“Of course. Needless to say, the more notice I have, the better, but I’ll leave right now if you want me to.”

His willingness to drop everything for her touched Susannah. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated this, appreciated him, yet all she managed to choke out was a simple, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Anything you need? Anything I can do?”

“No. I don’t think so.” She felt oppressed by her worries—Vivian, the situation with Jake, the revelations about Doug, the conflict with Chrissie. Susannah was tired, so tired of feeling responsible for all of it. Tired of making decisions—and mistakes.

Soon afterward, the surgeon appeared, still in his green surgical gown. He explained what he’d done and the anticipated outcome. Her mother would likely spend several days in the hospital recuperating, and would be temporarily moved to a nursing home, where she’d receive the care she needed. Progress would be slow, but Vivian had come through the ordeal well.

Relieved by the news, Susannah and Chrissie drove back to the house.

“I’m glad you came to the hospital,” Susannah told her daughter.

“I’m glad I did, too,” Chrissie said. “When I read your note, I freaked. Troy drove me to the hospital, thank God. I asked him to come in with me, but he says he can’t stand the smell.”

Susannah bit the inside of her lip to keep from commenting. If Troy loved Chrissie as much as she believed, then wouldn’t he want to be with her?

“I hate the thought of Grandma in pain,” Chrissie added. “I don’t think I realized how much I love her until I found out she’d been hurt.”

“I know.” But bad as it was, the accident could have been so much worse.

The house was dark and quiet when they got home. Chrissie immediately turned on the hallway lights, and they both listened, breath held, for any alien sounds. There was nothing. The only thing out of the ordinary was a real estate business card tucked in the screen door; this was the third one. She was nowhere close to getting the house on the market. Susannah tossed the card, as she had the others, annoyed by the aggressiveness of the agents.

She hurried to her bedroom and surveyed it carefully, looking, she supposed, for another message from Jake. He couldn’t possibly know what had kept her away from their meeting.

“Mom, Carolyn’s on the phone,” Chrissie yelled from the kitchen.

Susannah hadn’t even heard it ring.

“I understand you just got in,” Carolyn said when she answered. “How’s your mother?”

“She’s going to be fine. She’s out of surgery and in recovery. The hospital said they’d phone if there was any change.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” When Susannah murmured her thanks, Carolyn said, “Listen, I know this is absolutely none of my business, but I saw Troy Nance on my way home. He’s out at the Roadside Inn and he isn’t alone, if you catch my drift.”

“Really?”

“That was an hour ago, so I can’t promise he’s still there.”

Susannah’s eyes swung toward her daughter and then to the digital readout on the microwave. “I see.”

Chrissie quickly noticed that the conversation somehow concerned her.

“What did Carolyn tell you?” she burst out the instant Susannah replaced the receiver.

“Would you be interested in a short drive?” Susannah asked instead. She wouldn’t mention what Carolyn had said unless or until it was necessary.

“A drive, this time of night?” Chrissie stared at her skeptically.

“It isn’t that late.”

“You’re not fooling me, Mom. This has something to do with Troy, doesn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?” She got her purse and car keys and, without waiting for Chrissie, walked out the door.

Chrissie seemed about to stay behind, but after a moment stomped out to the car, resembling nothing so much as a pouting eight-year-old.

“This isn’t going to work,” she muttered when she climbed in beside Susannah.

“What isn’t?” Susannah inserted the key and started the engine.

“I’m moving to Colville to be with Troy and to help Grandma, and nothing you say is going to change that.”

“I haven’t said a word,” Susannah told her.

“Yeah, right.” Chrissie gazed out the side window at the darkened street.

Silently they drove to the Roadside Inn. Susannah nearly clapped her hands with delight when she saw Troy’s truck in the parking lot.

“What’s this supposed to prove?” Chrissie demanded when Susannah parked next to it.

“Nothing. I feel like a drink. How about you?”

“Oh, please….”

“Fine, you go in on your own. I can wait here.” Susannah leaned back in her seat, feigning a relaxed position.

“What do you expect me to find?”

Acting innocent, Susannah shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to see here, so let’s just go home. Troy and I had a long talk this afternoon, after you tried to discredit him. He doesn’t like his women jealous. He said I was his girlfriend, and if I didn’t believe that, I shouldn’t be in his life.”

Susannah sighed as if bored. “Check it out,” she said and gestured toward the tavern.

Without responding, Chrissie got out of the car and slammed the door.

Susannah winced at the anger in her daughter. All she could do now was wait—and hope that Chrissie would actually see what should be right in front of her face.

Five agonizing minutes passed before the tavern door opened. Out strolled Troy and Chrissie, arms entwined around each other.

Troy yanked open the passenger door and leaned inside the car. “You’ve got a real problem, Mrs. Nelson,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “Why are you so paranoid? Chrissie’s the only one for me.” He glared at her in unmistakable challenge. “Isn’t that right?” Turning, he bestowed a smile on Chrissie.

“Yes,” she reiterated. “My mother isn’t going to break us up. I won’t let her.”

Great, just great. Susannah had gambled and lost. Now she just looked vindictive in Chrissie’s eyes—vindictive, unreasonable and, as Troy had said, paranoid.

CHAPTER
38

I
n the morning, the first thing Susannah did was phone the hospital to check on her mother’s condition, which had improved. After she’d spoken to the nurse, she made a pot of coffee, desperate for a caffeine boost.

Chrissie hadn’t said a word to her during the entire ride home from the Roadside Inn. She sat there, arms crossed, shoulders back and her chin tilted as if being in such close proximity to her mother was more than she could endure.

Now, sitting at the kitchen table drinking her coffee, Susannah wondered if her daughter’s attitude had softened. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

At eight, Chrissie came out of her bedroom, fully dressed. She entered the kitchen and stopped abruptly when she saw Susannah.

“Good morning,” Susannah said in a neutral voice.

Her daughter ignored her.

“Chrissie, listen, this has got to end.”

Her daughter scowled defiantly in her direction. “It’s my life.”

“Yes, I know, but…”

“No, you obviously
don’t
know,” she muttered. “Troy and I are in love.”

That made Susannah feel like gagging. “You met him less than two weeks ago!”

Chrissie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you didn’t want to argue. Then why are you starting off the day doing exactly that? You undermine every decision I make. Nothing I say or do satisfies you—or Dad, either. I’m constantly under your thumb and I hate it. I hate school. Meeting Troy’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And now you want to take
him
away from me, too.”

“Troy isn’t the right man for you,” Susannah began.

“You never even gave him a chance.” Chrissie’s voice quavered, and she sounded close to tears.

Susannah drew in her breath and slowly counted to ten before responding. “Give me one reason I should like Troy,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Because I love him,” Chrissie insisted, her hands in tight fists at her sides.

That wasn’t a valid response in Susannah’s opinion. She tried to point out some of his more blatant faults, in the hope that Chrissie would understand her position.

“Troy doesn’t have a job, he’s irresponsible, and on top of that he’s too old for you.”

“Oh, please…”

According to Carolyn, Troy was around thirty, but as Susannah had discovered, he had the maturity of a teenager. Little wonder, she thought darkly, that the two of them got along so well.

“It wouldn’t matter if he worked or not,” Chrissie countered. “You’d make up an excuse to hate him.”

“I don’t hate Troy.” Susannah didn’t understand why it was so hard to talk to her daughter. Why wasn’t Chrissie capable of seeing any point of view except her own?

Chrissie threw up her hands. “You’re impossible!”

Susannah felt the same way about her. Her daughter hadn’t been the easiest child in the world; that stubborn, willful streak had shown up at the age of two and grown stronger every year.

“I can’t talk to you anymore.” Chrissie bolted from the room, forgoing her usual morning coffee.

With a heavy heart, Susannah sat at the table, her emotions tangled. It didn’t seem very long ago that she’d had the identical argument with her father over Jake. The results had been disastrous, and her relationship with him had been forever ruined. She didn’t want that to happen between her and Chrissie. At the same time, she had a whole new appreciation of how her father must have felt toward Jake. Yes, he was a hellion and he’d had a juvenile record, but it had been expunged at age eighteen. She’d believed she was helping him straighten out his life, make a fresh start. But Susannah no longer knew if her faith in Jake would’ve been borne out in later years.

Her arguments with her father could’ve been Chrissie’s arguments with her. It was a shocking realization, and although she now had a glimmer of her father’s reasons—whether they were right or wrong—she saw that he’d made a critical mistake. George Leary hadn’t given Jake an opportunity to prove himself. He’d been quick to find fault, eager to dismiss him as unfit for his precious daughter, despite the fact that Susannah loved him. Everything he’d said and done had only driven her closer to Jake.

Susannah refused to repeat those mistakes.

Swallowing her pride, she walked down the hallway to Chrissie’s bedroom and knocked politely on the door.

“Who is it?” her daughter asked distractedly, as if it could be any one of ten different people.

Susannah rolled her eyes. “Mom.”

Chrissie jerked the door open, keeping her hand on the knob, implying that with one wrong word, she’d slam it shut. “What are you going to tell me now? That I’m too young to know what I want?”

“No,” Susannah said. “You’re right—I haven’t given Troy a chance.”

Chrissie’s eyes narrowed as though she expected this to be a trick.

“I’ll do my best to make him feel welcome the next time I see him.”

“You will?” Chrissie still sounded skeptical, but was visibly mollified. “He’s really a great guy, Mom.”

“If you love him, then he must be.”

“I
do
love him. Troy’s wonderful. He knows everyone in town, and everyone knows him. We can’t go anywhere without people coming up and talking to him.”

Her daughter was crazy about this guy because he was popular? The urge to walk away in disgust nearly overpowered her. The reason everyone was Troy’s friend was that he was the local drug dealer. She suspected these so-called friends were looking for a hit of whatever Troy sold. Once again, Susannah was disappointed that her daughter could be so blind.

“Would you like to invite him to dinner tonight? We can order pizza and chat for a while.” If Chrissie saw that she was making a serious effort, maybe, just maybe, her eyes would be opened to the truth about Troy.

Chrissie smiled brightly. “I’ll ask, but you know, Mom, Troy isn’t the kind of guy who enjoys sitting around the table and shooting the breeze.” She offered her a tentative smile. “But I’ll ask.”

“I won’t be offended if he refuses. All I really want is for him to know I’m trying.” In truth, Susannah would be grateful if he declined. She didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her mouth shut for more than five minutes.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Susannah nodded. “You’re welcome,” she said as graciously as she could.

“How’s Grandma this morning?”

Susannah repeated what the nurse had told her earlier.

“I was thinking I’d go to the hospital and see her,” Chrissie said.

Susannah would’ve liked to go with her, but the home security company Joe had contacted was scheduled to install the burglar alarm between eight and twelve. “Tell her I’ll be up this afternoon, will you?”

“Okay.”

“They’ll know more about her condition after the doctor visits,” Susannah said, unable to conceal her worry.

“I can stay with her until he does and then report back to you,” Chrissie said.

Susannah could see that her daughter was trying, too, and she appreciated it. “That would be great. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Soon afterward, Chrissie left for the hospital, driving Susannah’s car. Susannah returned to the kitchen to finish her coffee and gave herself an A for effort. Had her father done half as much, it might have changed the course of both their lives.

Chrissie had been gone only ten or fifteen minutes when
the doorbell chimed. Susannah had begun to pack away pots and pans in the kitchen. She abandoned the carton she was working on and got up, assuming the home security people had arrived early.

But it wasn’t the service company. Troy Nance stood on the doorstep, wearing a stained T-shirt, jeans and motorcycle boots. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He
was
Jake’s son; she was sure of it. She saw the resemblance more and more.

“Hello, Troy.” Susannah did her best to sound friendly and welcoming. If he was surprised, it didn’t show. “Chrissie’s at the hospital visiting her grandmother.”

“Yeah, she told me. You’re the one I wanted to talk to.”

Susannah faltered a moment but recovered quickly. “Okay.” She held open the screen door, but he ignored the invitation to come inside.

“Out here.”

She shrugged and followed him down the steps to the walkway. “What can I do for you?” she asked, folding her arms.

“Chrissie phoned and said you’d had a change of heart about me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but she’d keep her opinions to herself—for now. “Thanks for coming by, Troy.” She wondered why he was here.

“Yeah.” His eyes were like chips of ice.

“What will it take for the two of us to be friends?” she asked, moving forward.

“You don’t like me,” he sneered, “and pretending you do isn’t going to help, so let’s get that straight up-front.”

At least they both knew where they stood. “I’m willing to try,” she said.

“What for?”

Nothing less than the truth would satisfy him. “I don’t want to lose my daughter over you.”

He let the comment hang for a few moments and then smiled as if her answer had pleased him. “I might be able to help you out.”

“That would be good,” Susannah said, grateful they’d been able to find common ground.

He paced to the end of the walk, then turned on his heel. “Chrissie said if you don’t let her stay in the house—” he gestured at the front door “—she’d move in with me.” He paused. “Frankly, I’m not interested.”

Susannah wanted to hug him, she was so thankful.

“I haven’t told her, of course, but I figured you weren’t that thrilled about the idea yourself.”

“You could say that.”

“The fact is, Chrissie’s a bit of a drama queen.”

Susannah sighed. “She does have a tendency to overreact.”

“She’s spoiled, too.”

Again Susannah didn’t have much of an argument, although she recognized how odd it was to be discussing her daughter’s flaws with this man. The man Chrissie thought she loved… She studied him carefully. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

His mouth curled into a sarcastic half smile. “So you finally caught on, did you?” His cold eyes met hers. “If I asked, Chrissie would move in with me like that.” He snapped his fingers as if she needed a demonstration.

“And your point is?” she said curtly.

“You just asked what it would take for the two of us to be friends, right?”

She nodded warily.

“I’m bored with Chrissie,” he said bluntly. “She isn’t
much fun and she makes too many demands, but I could easily string her along—for however long it took.”

A chill raced down Susannah’s arms. “However long
what
took?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

Susannah frowned, not sure she understood.

“What’s your daughter’s happiness worth to you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I could make her happy or I could break her heart. You choose.”

“I beg your pardon?” Susannah could feel the outrage rising inside her. This had to be a distasteful joke, although she certainly wasn’t laughing.

“Confidentially, I’m experiencing something of a cash flow problem. I was thinking you might be able to help me out.”

“You want me to
pay
you?” Susannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“If you want me out of Chrissie’s life, I could make that happen for as little as five thousand dollars.”

Susannah’s mouth flew open. He was serious. Five thousand dollars. The same amount her father had paid Allan Presley.

“This is a one-time offer. It won’t be repeated and you have to decide now.”

“Or what?”

“Or like I said, I string her along for a while and introduce her to a few of my friends. I’m sure you get the picture.”

Susannah thought she was going to be sick. “You don’t care about her at all, do you?”

“Not really. She was a nice diversion for a while.” He
grinned nastily. “Mom said you were a stuck-up prig in high school and it was fun getting a rise out of you.”

Susannah stared at him, unable to say a thing.

“Well? Are you game or not?”

Game.
This entire episode was a game. He was playing with Chrissie’s heart and it meant nothing to him. Now it was up to Susannah to decide what to do.

“I don’t have that kind of money here.”

He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Then get it from your husband and do it fast.”

Susannah’s mind raced. Joe would never give in to blackmail. She knew without even asking that he’d flatly refuse. “He won’t agree to this.”

“Then the deal’s off.” Troy started to walk away.

“No,” she cried. She took him at his word—this was a one-time offer. “I’ll find a way to get the money.”

“What about your rich friend?” Troy suggested.

Susannah shook her head. “I’d never borrow money from Carolyn.”

He raised his eyebrows in a cynical expression. “Not even for your daughter?”

“I—”

“I’ll be waiting at the Roadside Inn tonight at seven. Either you’re there with the money or no deal.”

“But I might not have it by then,” she began. “I—”

“That,” he said, his voice as hard as steel, “is your problem.”

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