“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.