Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(88)

“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.”