Susannah glanced at the tray, still waiting on a small table near the door. As far as she could tell, Vivian hadn’t touched her dinner.
“Mom.”
“Oh, Susannah…” She twisted around in her chair. “I thought it was the girl.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
Her mother rose awkwardly to her feet, keeping one hand on the back of the chair for balance. “I wasn’t hungry.”
“Why not?” Susannah eyed the minestrone soup and fruit plate and found them artfully displayed. The meals at Altamira were good, and nothing like the institutional food one would expect.
“I’m just not,” Vivian grumbled. “Your father told me I should move here, but I don’t like it.”
“Sit down and I’ll bring your dinner,” Susannah suggested.
She set up a television tray once Vivian had returned to her chair. As soon as she was settled, Susannah brought her the fruit plate. “I’ll warm up the soup in the microwave,” she said.
To Susannah’s delight, her mother ate every bit of her meal. Soon afterward the assistant arrived and removed the tray. For the next hour, Susannah and her mother sat side by side and watched two game shows in silence.
“Mom,” Susannah said when Jeopardy ended, “I didn’t know you wanted to be a nurse.”
Her mother’s gaze slid to hers. “Who told you that?”
“I, ah…I came across something you’d written. While I was packing up the rest of your closet,” she explained quickly, gliding over the fact that the “something” had been her mother’s diary.
“I did consider it at one time,” Vivian admitted, reluctance in her voice.
“Why didn’t you?” Susannah felt disappointed for her mother but tried not to let it show.
Vivian considered the question. “Your father didn’t think it was a good idea, and he was right. A few years after that, George was appointed to the bench and our lives changed. He had a civic responsibility and I did, too.”
“You would’ve been a wonderful nurse,” Susannah said, careful to hide her emotions.
Vivian gazed at her thoughtfully. “Perhaps I would. Your father and I talked about it more than once, especially before he accepted the appointment. He realized his new role in the community would be almost as demanding on me,” she continued. “He asked me to stay home while you children were young. I agreed. That wasn’t the time for me to pursue a career, and then later, well…later I made the decision to stand with him, to be his helpmate. Being available to George and supporting his career was more important to me. It meant I was available to you children, too.”
“Do you have any regrets?”
Vivian smiled. “Not even one. Everyone makes choices in life, Susannah. Your father earned a good living, and we were fortunate that I didn’t need to work. I saw it as a blessing—and I still do. I volunteered at the blood bank, you know, and I was able to work in my garden.”
Susannah wasn’t so sure blessing was the appropriate word.
“Your father and I were partners. You were always so eager to paint him as a villain and, my dear, he was never that. George was a good man, a loving husband, a wonderful father.”
Susannah swallowed her arguments. The family was fortunate that Vivian could be home for them all. If she’d ever felt cheated about not going into nursing, it had never showed. But Susannah felt cheated for her, and the opportunity she’d lost.
CHAPTER 11
The afternoon was cool and breezy as Carolyn arrived back at the mill, parking in her assigned spot. She’d attended a very successful meeting in Spokane with a buyer from a major hardware chain, and all that remained now was finishing up the relevant paperwork.
Her long single braid stretched halfway down her back, swaying as she walked. She wore an unaccustomed suit, a plain navy one with a straight skirt and classically styled jacket. With her white shirt and flat black pumps, Carolyn’s “go to meeting” outfit was complete. She couldn’t wait to peel off the panty hose. Since she never had any idea what to do with her hair, she’d left it in its usual braid. She could only imagine what her fashionable mother would think if she could see her now. When it came to the feminine arts, Carolyn had failed miserably. The second she got to her office, she changed into jeans, boots and a cotton shirt.
Gloria, her personal assistant, had obviously left early for some reason. That was fine, since she put in whatever hours the job—and Carolyn—required.
As soon as Carolyn finished with the paperwork, she planned to head home herself, since she had company coming for dinner. Inviting Susannah, Sandy, Lisa and Yvette to the house was a giant leap into the public sphere for her. Carolyn had never socialized much; because of her position as Colville’s main employer, it was risky. Her father had often cautioned her about getting too close to any one family. Still, none of those women was associated with the mill in any way.
With her responsibility to the business always in mind, she’d kept mostly to herself since her return, forgoing friendships. At times she was lonely, but a sense of duty had been bred into her. She didn’t resent her position; she took it seriously. This mill contributed significantly to the local economy, which meant the decisions she made affected the town as a whole.
Paperwork done, Carolyn walked into the yard, where the lumber was stacked ten feet high. Sprinklers continually kept the wood wet and cool. A fire could do massive damage, and every measure was taken to protect the raw lumber. The year before, she’d purchased a new lumber stacker for the cut wood, one that minimized operating costs. With new machinery in place, including the stacker, her goal was to produce approximately 50,000 cubic meters of quality lumber annually. No small goal, but she’d set her sights on that figure and had everything she needed to make it a reality.
When he saw her, Carolyn’s plant manager, Jim Reynolds, hurried toward her with a clipboard in his hand. She relied on Jim, who was directly below her in the chain of command. He was much more than her manager; he was her right-hand man, with a drive and ambition that matched her own. Thanks to his years of working at the mill, the men respected his judgment—and respected him. Carolyn didn’t make a move without consulting Jim first.