Daisy Lane (23 page)

Grace found she was all out of thank-yous. She just nodded instead.

Scott found Maggie in the community center kitchen with Claire and Hannah, washing food containers in the big double sink. Maggie was washing, Hannah was rinsing, and Claire was drying.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked her.

“Maggie and Scott, sitting in a tree,” Hannah said. “T.A.L.K.I.N.G.”

“So mature,” Claire said. “Now you wash.”

Maggie and Scott went out through the door to the side porch of the community center.

“What’s up?” she asked.

Her hair was pulled up off her neck but a few wild curls had escaped. Scott reached up and tucked one behind her ear. Maggie adjusted his tie, which was hanging crooked.

He told her about Grace’s father and deceased aunt.

“That poor kid has the worst luck,” Maggie said. “What’s going to happen now?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “I know we just got back together and it’s the completely worst time to think about doing this, but I’ve been thinking I would like us to adopt Grace.”

“Adopt her?” Maggie said. “Holy crap, Scott.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I just want to make sure nothing bad happens to her.”

“But adopting her,” Maggie said. “Even if we wanted to would they even let us?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not saying we have to get married, I just want us to be her parents.”

“Well, I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this,” she said. “Have you told Grace about this?”

“No, of course not,” Scott said. “She just buried her grandfather. I’ve been thinking about it, though, and I wanted to see if you would even consider it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Maggie said. “I’m surprised. I hadn’t thought about it myself. She seems content at Kay’s.”

“She needs two parents,” he said. “We could be that, Maggie, think about it. It would probably be the only way you could have a child.”

“I know that,” Maggie said. “But that doesn’t matter to me, not at all. I never had that rabid maternal instinct. I like kids, but I don’t need one of my own.”

“She’s almost grown up,” Scott said. “It would mostly just be us protecting her, making sure she makes it to adulthood with the least wear and tear.”

“There’s a lot more to it than that.”

“I know,” Scott said. “And I know it’s crazy but I still want to do it.”

“Your mom just died,” Maggie said. “You probably shouldn’t be making any major life decisions while you’re still dealing with that.”

“I’m doing okay,” he said.

“Scott, I live with you,” Maggie said. “I know you’re not doing okay.”

Scott turned and walked to the edge of the porch. He pushed his hair back with one hand and then crossed his arms. Maggie followed and put her arms around him.

“If you want us to adopt Grace, I will consider it,” she said. “But only if it’s what’s best for Grace. We have to consider her feelings in this.”

“I will,” he said, and turned around to face her. “You really would consider it?”

“Heaven help me,” Maggie said. “You’ve turned me into a cootie-covered feeling machine.”

“I love you,” he said, and kissed her.

“I love you, too,” she said. “Just don’t rush into anything.”

“There’s a hearing tomorrow,” Scott said.

“Great,” Maggie said. “That gives me, what? Twelve hours to decide?”

“You’re the best,” he said. “You’re going to be a great mother.”

Scott grinned and hopped over the railing onto the lawn.

“Where are you going?” she asked him.

“I thought there might be a pinch coming,” he said. “I’m learning to identify the signs.”

“I’m going out to Hannah’s tonight,” Maggie said. “Do you want to come?”

“Can’t,” he said. “I’ve got to work.”

“Are you ready to recite your poem?” Maggie asked.

Scott just waved and jogged off in the direction of the squad car.

“Your final grade depends upon it,” she called after him.

Grace thought she was so exhausted she could sleep for a week, but as soon as she was back at Kay’s house she lay wide awake in the pretty bed, her mind churning through information. She couldn’t settle on any one line of thought, but just cycled through impressions and information over and over until her stomach hurt. She wished she could turn her mind off.

Her father didn’t want her. She didn’t know why she was surprised; he hadn’t so much as written to her once in her whole life. When she was younger, on her birthdays, she used to wait for a card, or better, for him to show up with a wonderful wife who wanted nothing more than to take her back to their beautiful home and love her. In the back of her mind, after her grandfather died, she had been hoping he would finally rescue her. Seeing his rejection in black and white destroyed that magical thinking forever.

The door to her room was open, and the conversation Kay was having with the guests in her sitting room was easily heard down the hall. They had descended as soon as Grace and Kay had arrived back at Kay’s house, almost as if they had followed them home from the reception.

Grace had been introduced when they came in, but she was so fatigued she hadn’t paid too much attention. A large, colorfully dressed, red-headed woman named Delphie and her dark-haired daughter, Denise, who sometimes worked with Claire at the Bee Hive; Maggie and her mother, Bonnie; Claire and her mother, Delia; and some other friend of Kay’s.

“I was so hurt,” Delia was saying. “It felt as if everything Claire did she was doing to me. Of course now I realize she was just living her own life and making her own mistakes, like we all do. But back then I was so angry because I couldn’t make her do what I thought she ought to do. I could see so clearly that she was going down the wrong road, but she just wouldn’t listen to me. I was disappointed in her poor judgment, when really, who has the greatest judgment when they’re teenagers?”

“Alright,” Claire said. “Enough about me and my horrible misdeeds.”

“Their brains aren’t fully developed yet they think they’re geniuses,” Maggie’s mother, Bonnie, said. “All you can do is your best, and sometimes even that’s not good enough. Keep ‘em alive and nourished, body and soul. Pray a lot. If you’re lucky, they eventually realize they’re not as smart as they think they are and come back to you for help.”

“You’re still waiting, aren’t you?” Maggie said. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“I don’t think you do them any favors if you present an unrealistic view of the world and their place in it,” the unknown woman said. “We’re not all special butterflies to whom the world owes anything. I’ve told Elvis that no matter how hard he works, or how smart he is, someday life will kick his butt. I’m hoping that if I prepare him for it, maybe he will survive it.”

Grace’s ears pricked up at the mention of Elvis. Could that be his mother? There couldn’t be two Elvises in Rose Hill, could there? Grace slipped out of bed and went to the door so she could hear more clearly.

“Sometimes you get lucky,” Delphie said. “My Nicky was the perfect baby and such a well-behaved child. He never gave us any trouble growing up and he still doesn’t.”

“Because he was a mama’s boy,” her daughter, Denise, said. “And he still is. Just ask his wife.”

“But our Denise,” Delphie said. “She came out screaming bloody murder and never stopped. If I said pink, she said purple. If I said braids, she said ponytails. We never could agree on anything.”

“Watch this,” Denise said. “Give us your thoughts on breastfeeding, Ma.”

“All your immunities,” Delphie said. “Think about that, Neecy. Give him six months at least.”

“See,” Denise said. “We still don’t agree.”

“I breastfed Sammy ‘til he bit me,” Hannah said. “Bit me and then had the nerve to laugh.”

“I breastfed Elvis for a year,” his mom said. “He was a very healthy baby.”

“Don’t even start,” Delphie said. “The more you push, the more she pulls. Believe me.”

“At least you wouldn’t have teething to deal with,” Denise said to Maggie.

“Or potty training,” Hannah said.

“Or chicken pox,” Delia said. “Do children still get chicken pox?”

“If they don’t get vaccinated,” Elvis’s mother said. “Measles, Polio, and whooping cough are all back as well.”

“Stupid celebrities,” Claire said.

“Grace is already her own person,” Maggie said. “She’s fifteen years old. How can anybody be a good mother to her if they haven’t had any positive experience with that particular relationship?”

“I beg your pardon,” Bonnie said. “Are you referring to me?”

“You are a good mother, Aunt Bonnie,” Hannah said. “You were the mother of all mothers. While you were chasing Patrick around the yard with a wooden spoon for ditching school, my mother was lying down in a dark room with a headache; one that’s lasted thirty-six years.”

“Now, Hannah,” Delia said. “Your mother loves you; she may not say so but she does. It’s just that your four brothers were born one right after another and it was too much for her. By the time she had you, she was worn out.”

“My dad taught me how to be a mom,” Hannah said. “He made the lunches and braided the hair; he helped with the homework and kissed the boo-boos. My mother could not be bothered.”

“Curtis Fitzpatrick is a saint,” Bonnie said. “He’s waited on your mother hand and foot for over forty years.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Hannah said to Maggie, “I didn’t turn out anything like my mother, and if being Sammy’s mother isn’t too much I don’t know what would be. That child brought home three baby moles the other day. He told me their names are Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.”

“Baptist church day care, right?” Elvis’s mother said. “I remember that Bible story from when I was little.”

“Are you letting him keep them?” Delphie asked.

“It’d be cruel not to,” Hannah said. “It was one of my cats that ate their mother.”

“If I thought there was any chance I’d turn into my mother,” Maggie said, “I wouldn’t do it.”

“I’m in the room,” Bonnie said. “I can hear you.”

“You can’t help it,” Denise said. “The truth is I hope Tony Jr.’s a mama’s boy just like my brother, and if the next one’s like me I’ll probably pull her braids a little too tight, too.”

“She was so tender-headed,” Delphie said. “And so sensitive; you couldn’t say anything to her.”

“I was scared of my mother,” Maggie said. “I would never want Grace to be scared of me.”

“A little fear is not such a bad thing,” Bonnie said.

“I hate seeing people make the mistake of being friends with their children instead of being parents,” Delphie said. “What they need is someone who’s not afraid to be hated for a couple years.”

“I always could get around Dad, though,” Denise said.

“Your brother is the same with his girls,” Delphie said.

“Speaking of mama’s boys,” Hannah said. “You always said you wouldn’t marry Scott while his mother was alive and now she’s gone.”

“You’ll fool around and lose him,” Bonnie said. “You’re lucky he’s held on this long.”

“I’m not worried about Scott,” Maggie said. “He’s got some grief to get through first.”

“He’d be a good father for Grace,” Delia said. “And she’d be good for him.”

“He’d be overprotective,” Maggie said. “He probably wouldn’t let her do anything.”

“Just like Ian,” Delia said. “He was the worst about saying no to everything.”

“I just sneaked and did it anyway,” Claire said. “Sorry, Mom.”

“I will try not to take that personally,” Delia said. “Retroactively.”

“What would I do if Grace sneaked and did things anyway?” said Maggie. “Scott would be crushed and you know my temper.”

“You sound like typical parents to me,” Delphie said. “You’ll be hurt and mad and then you’ll get over it. That’s what it’s like. You have to forgive them seventy times seven, sometimes all in one day.”

“I’ll make mistakes,” Maggie said. “I just know it.”

“You’ll screw up and then try harder next time,” Elvis’s mom said. “And Grace will screw up and try harder the next time as well.”

“I don’t even know what Scott’s views on child-rearing are,” Maggie said. “It’s never come up.”

“I wonder,” Claire said. “If you and Scott shouldn’t work out being a couple before you try to become parents.”

“A married couple,” Bonnie said. “In a church by a priest.”

“Those two have been a couple for years,” Delia said. “Even if they didn’t always know it.”

“I have thought about that,” Maggie said. “It’s probably the sensible thing to do to wait, but Grace needs parents now.”

“Kay and she are getting along so well,” Claire said. “It may be the best thing just to leave her where she is.”

“She’s certainly welcome to stay,” Kay said. “Although it might be nice for her to have younger people to raise her. I’m in bed by nine o’clock most evenings. She’d probably get bored living here.”