A Family of Their Own(42)
She stifled her resentment. If she were dying, Kelsey suspected she would do the same thing, try to resolve mistakes, lavish love on those important in her life and make amends for the hurts she’d caused. Ross’s words filled her mind. She’d never forget, but she could forgive. Her emotions vacillated between compassion and animosity.
Lucy delved into the bag and pulled out a turquoise outfit, a print skirt and a top to match—even the right size. “And he gave me Chinese checkers.” She grinned. “It’s so much fun. Daddy played it with me. Have you played it, Mom?”
“A long time ago.” Clothes, games. Kelsey wondered if she’d finally come to the end.
“And puzzles.” She brought out two jigsaw puzzles.
She almost rolled her eyes. Doug knew she loved them, even as a toddler. He’d certainly worked to impress his daughter.
“And there’s more.” Lucy dug into the grocery sack again, tugging out another blouse, this one with coral trim, and then she lifted out a picture frame.
Kelsey swallowed the rising emotion as Lucy put it in her hand. Tears slipped into her eyes, and she looked away before Lucy saw them.
Brushing her hands across the dampness, she looked down at the photograph of Lucy and Doug, cheeks together, smiling. It appeared to be an older photograph—maybe two years earlier—when Lucy had visited him. Though the picture rent her heart, a familiar stab of resentment pierced her. Sarcasm clung to her tongue until she was able to consume it and respond. “It’s a nice photograph, Lucy.” She lowered the frame into Lucy’s hands.
“Daddy said to put it on my nightstand.”
Her father’s suggestion grated her, but she turned her thoughts around, trying to hear Ross’s voice. Forgiveness. Lord, I’m such a sinner. Calm waved past her like a breeze. “That way you’ll see your father every morning when you wake up.”
Lucy nodded, a troubled look growing on her face. “Mom.”
Kelsey gazed at her. “They’re nice gifts. I like them.”
She slipped the photograph back into the paper bag. “Can I ask you a question?”
The sound of her voice aroused her concern. She didn’t want to answer a question, but seeing Lucy’s face, she had to. “Okay.”
“Why didn’t you go inside and see Daddy?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I wanted you and your father to have this special time together.”
“But he talked about you.”
Her pulse heightened. “What do you mean?” Weight fell on her shoulders.
“He asked me if you were doing okay, and was your job real good.” Her eyes searched Kelsey’s. “Was it okay I told him you were fine and you had lots of work?”
“That was fine. You should always be honest.”
“Oh, and I forgot. He gave me something to give you.”
She delved back into the bottom of the sack and pulled out an envelope. “Maybe it’s a letter.” Lucy handed it to her. “Read it.”
It was the last thing she wanted to do, but how could she explain that to her eager daughter? She pulled open the tab and drew out the note. When she unfolded it, a check had been tucked inside. She gazed at the amount and cringed as she scanned the message. Her chest compressed against her lungs, and she fought for breath.
“It’s long, Lucy. I’ll read it later. Okay?”
Lucy shrugged.
Doug’s guilt for his neglect seemed obvious by the size of the check. But money wasn’t the issue now, although it had been. Giving love and attention to Lucy was vital. Yet if he had shown her all of that, Kelsey would have felt she and Doug were competing for Lucy’s attention.
“You should have talked with him.”
Lucy’s admonition startled her, and her heart softened. “Would that make you happy?”
She nodded. “He’s sick, and I don’t understand. He’s sad, but he tried to look happy.”
“Lucy, he was happy to see you, but it’s difficult when an adult is sick. It means he can’t work, and he can’t do the things he wants to do.”
Her eyes searched Kelsey’s. “Will he get better?” She tilted her head, determination growing on her face.
Tension twisted through her, and Kelsey rumpled the envelope in her hand. Lucy wanted the truth. “I don’t know. He’s very sick and the doctors don’t have much they can do.”