***
March 1, 1984
Dear Susie,
I'm sure you are shocked to hear from me. It's taken me over a year to find the courage to write after seeing you in Charleston last summer and not hearing from you. Thank you for the personal inscription. It means everything to me.
“We are forever connected… Always, Susie.”
I've written you countless letters that I never mailed. I finally convinced myself that you would not want to find out things through the grapevine that you should hear from me, personally. We have too much history and I have too much respect for you to ever hurt you (again).
Maria and I didn't work out. We stayed married almost two years but we were both broken, damaged people from the War, and it just didn't work. I've spent the past eight years getting myself back on track and I think I'm better than I ever was. I saw a psychiatrist for a few years, I've worked hard, and will retire as a Major—not bad for ten years in the Army and thirty-five years old.
The main thing I want to tell you is that I'm moving back home next summer after I retire. I'm planning to go into practice with Jeffrey and Sarah, who opened their law offices two years ago in Jean Ville. It's simple family law, probably boring compared to what I've been doing, but it's where I'll start.
I heard you got married and that you lost your husband. I know you well enough to believe that if you married him, you must have loved him with all your heart, and I am so very sorry for your loss. I hope you are healing and that your sadness lessens every day. I have prayed for you and thought about you during your mourning.
I would like to call you to catch up when you feel ready.
Yours forever,
Rod
Lilly and I were in Jean Ville for spring break and I was opening the mail that had stacked up. I sat down hard on the sofa and without realizing it, pressed the letter to my chest. I started to cry, then I didn't know why I was crying and tried to stop, but the tears kept coming. Lilly walked in the living room and stood looking at me.
"Why are you crying?"
"I don't know, honey." The tears kept running down my cheeks unchecked and I couldn't control them.
"How can you cry and not know why?"
"I'm not sure. The tears just started coming and they won't stop." I tried to smile but it was barely a smirk. Lilly sat next to me and put her arm over my shoulder. She would be fifteen in August and was almost as tall as me, and she was gorgeous, like her dad. Her brownish, auburn hair fell in long corkscrew curls down her back and she often had to pull some of the soft curlicues away from her face with a barrette or a clip. Her oval face had high cheekbones and her eyes were as large as half-dollars, only they were shaped like almonds, pointed on both ends. Her skin was the color of walnuts, almost as light as mine, but with a tan-yellow cast to it so it was obvious she was part African American, even if only a small part.
We sat without talking for a while. I could hear the carpenters outside building the carport that I'd been meaning to construct ever since I traded our brown Torino for a navy blue Oldsmobile. I was eyeing a red Mustang fastback for Lilly's fifteenth birthday, so the garage needed to be large enough for two cars, our ride-on lawn mower and some yard tools. We didn't need cars in New York, but when we were in Jean Ville they were a must.
"What would you like for supper?" I broke the silence and turned to look at Lilly. She pulled the paper I had clutched to my chest from my hands.
"Did this make you cry?" She started to read it and I snatched it from her. She looked shocked. I'd never done anything so, well, almost violent. "What's the matter?"
"It's a letter from a friend. We don't read each other's mail, remember."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was a letter. I just want to know what made you sad." She looked sad and angry at the same time and I knew she was hurt and trying to hide her feelings. I hugged her close and kissed the top of her head.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that… well… it's personal. I need to digest what my friend said. You understand, don't you?"
"Not really, but it's okay. It's your mail." She got up and started to walk away, then she turned towards me. "I didn't think we had secrets." She stood there and I could tell she knew there was something I wasn't telling her, something that she should know.
"You're right. We shouldn't have secrets and I guess I've kept this one too long. Something you need to know, deserve to know, about your biological dad." She plopped down in the chair across from the sofa and slumped low, her shoulders below the back of the chair, her chin on her chest.
"It wasn't Josh? My dad… I mean?"
"No. I'm sorry. I never said it was."
"But you let me believe…" She stared at her feet and started picking at her fingernails. I was at a loss as to how to tell her.
"Lilly, surely you realize that some part of you is African American. Josh was white. I'm white. How could you justify that?"
"I don't know. Mama is black." Her eyes flew opened when she heard her own words, and she pulled in a gallon of air and held it. "That's right. Mama was not my…"
"Yes, she was. She was your mother in every way. And she was a wonderful mother. It takes more than biology to make parents."
"So; my dad. I mean my biological father. He was black?"
"Is. Is black."
"Oh." She was quiet and I felt she needed time to digest what I'd said. We sat there for a long time and I watched the darkness begin to crawl over our lawn. The birds stopped tweeting. The crickets began to chirp. I heard an owl hoot in the distance, then a car went by. I inhaled the sweet fragrance of the lilies on the dining room table.
I felt afraid—afraid to mishandle things and lose Lilly's love.
"What was, what is… was he like?" She was looking at her hands that rested in her lap.
"I haven't seen him in ten years, but he still exists," I told the white lie because I could justify that seeing him in Charleston was not really seeing him, and running into him at the Burger Barn.
I waited and tried to gather my thoughts. "I can only tell you what he was like… amazing, kind, caring, loving, smart, generous; all the things you'd want your father to be, and more. And he was gorgeous. You look a lot like him. He’s tall, maybe 6' 4", with light skin and big greenish-hazel eyes with amber specks. He was the most gentle, interesting, intelligent person I'd ever known. Until I met Josh, I didn't think anyone else like him existed."
"Does he have a name?"
"Rodney."
"Rodney?"
"Yes. He's a lawyer, and he's been in the army for ten years. He's getting out next summer and moving back home."
"Home?"
"Yes. He's from Jean Ville. It's where we met, where we fell in love. And that's the most important thing you should know. We loved each other very much when we made you."
"Why has he never… I mean he's never tried to meet me." She looked at me and I took a deep breath. How could I tell her that I had lied to everyone? I had to blurt it out.
"He doesn't know about you." She looked at me with shock and dismay and I, too, wondered how I could have gone fifteen years without telling Rodney he had a daughter. It seemed the longer I waited, the more impossible it was to tell him. Now he was getting out of the army and moving back to Jean Ville, and he would see her and he would know.
Lilly stared at me as if she didn't know me. I barely knew myself. I couldn't remember why it had been so important to keep my pregnancy from him and then to keep Lilly a secret from him. It seemed ludicrous now, but back then it had made perfect sense. "I never told him."
"How could he not know you were pregnant?"
"I was in New York. He was in Baton Rouge in college. We couldn't see each other. He never knew."
"I need some air." Lilly got up and stormed out of the house, the screen door slamming behind her. I watched through the front window and saw her run towards the Quarters. I hoped Marianne was home. I went to the phone and called her number. She picked up on the second ring.
"Mari. Lilly is on her way to the Quarters. I just told her about Rodney. She's very upset. Would you please…?"
"I'll take care of it. It had to happen sometime. Just calm down. I'll talk to her and call you later. I love you, Susie. It'll be okay." Marianne always knew exactly what to say and how to say it.
I'd never told Marianne that Rodney was Lilly's father or that I was her mother. I'd stuck to the story of Joe and Emalene Franklin. In fact, the only two people who knew that Lilly was my and Rodney’s child were Josh and Emalene and they were now both… gone.
I called Sissy. "Can you come over?" I hung up the phone and fell on the sofa. I thought about all the things Lilly would need to know now that she knew about Rodney. The Thibaults were her grandparents. They should know Lilly, and Lilly should know them. She needed to know that her best friends were actually her cousins, not only because Marianne and I were sisters but also because Rodney's uncle, Bo, was married to Tootsie's sister, Jesse.
Most importantly, she needed to understand that blacks and whites weren’t allowed to date, to love, to marry in the '60s and '70s in the deep South without being punished, even killed, by bigots. Even in the 1980s, discrimination still existed in the South.
I'd have to teach her about prejudice and hate and bigotry, and I didn't want her to know any of that. The more I thought, the more I cried.
When Sissy walked in, I blurted it all out. She listened as though she'd always known and had waited for me to be honest with her. She wasn't shocked or disgusted about what I'd done. Her attitude gave me strength. When I ran out of words and tears, she got up, went to the kitchen, and came back with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.
"Here's to honesty, and how great you'll feel tomorrow when you realize you no longer have to keep all of this inside." She opened the bottle and poured two generous glasses. We took our wine outside to see the progress on the garage, and we talked and laughed like sisters who have no secrets are apt to do.
The next day Marianne came over for coffee before daylight. Lilly had slept at her house and she'd called to tell me so I wouldn't worry.
"She'll be fine. It's time this secret came out. Can you tell me what prompted it?" Marianne took a long sip of her coffee and looked at me out the tops of her eyes. I pulled Rodney's letter from the pocket of my robe. I'd slept with it all night and had read it so many times the paper was wrinkled, the ink smudged, and the words memorized.
I handed it to Marianne and she read it without looking up. "Well, now you have to tell Rodney."
"He'll know as soon as he meets Lilly." I stirred my coffee for the umpteenth time. It was cold when I took the first sip.
"Maybe you should write him, tell him in advance. Maybe you should tell the Thibaults."
"I want to tell Rodney first. I think, deep inside, I've always wanted to tell him before I told anyone, even Lilly, or you, or Sissy. But it hasn't worked out that way. I think he deserves to know before anyone else finds out. I hope you and Sissy will honor that and not tell anyone until I can tell him."
"Where is he?" She turned the letter over as though looking for an address.
"I'm not sure. I didn't look at the return address." I got up and went into the living room and found the envelope on the coffee table, where I must have dropped it when I pulled the letter out. "Oh my God!" I shouted. Marianne came rushing to me. "He's in Brooklyn. Brooklyn, New York at Fort Hamilton."
April 3, 1984
Dear Rodney,
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond to your letter. To begin with, it shocked me and took a while to digest. Now that I've had time to think about things, I realize there's too much to say in a letter. I will be in New York next week and wonder whether we could meet in person. I have an apartment in Manhattan, or we can meet at a restaurant, although I think our conversation should be private.
Let me know if you are agreeable to seeing me and I'll send you all the details.
Always,
Susie
April 6, 1984
Dear Susie,
I'll meet with you anywhere, anytime. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there.
Can't wait.
Yours forever,
Rodney
I didn't tell Lilly I was meeting with Rodney. I was afraid. What if he became angry and didn't want to meet her? If that happened she would think he didn't want her. What if he didn't want her? What ifs were crawling around my brain at warp speed and I knew I had to tell him first and let him get used to the idea before I introduced them. It was only fair.
On Tuesday, Joe came to get Lilly to spend a few days with him and his family. Lilly and I had patched things up and had talked through things ad nauseam. I'd answered all her questions, explained race relations in the ‘60s, my dad's political position, and the dangers that Rodney and his family had been in. She had a difficult time understanding the kind of prejudice that controlled the South. She'd been raised in New York where there was no Ku Klux Klan or Jim Crow laws, where miscegenation never existed, where she lived a life of privilege. And although things had changed in Jean Ville—the schools were integrated, the “Whites Only” signs were gone, blacks could eat in restaurants, get rooms in hotels, and ride on any train car—they hadn't changed enough. Lilly and I didn't live there. We only visited on holidays and during the summers and spent most of our time with Tootsie’s family in the Quarters.
Lilly wasn't angry anymore, but she still seemed eager to get away from me and be with Joe. When I asked her how long she planned to stay with his family she said, "I'll call you when I'm ready to come back. Maybe when it's time to start school."
Wednesday morning I called the phone number Rodney had sent me. I had a meeting scheduled at Shilling, but I wasn't sure about Rodney's work schedule.
"Hi. It's me," I said when he answered the phone. I took a deep breath and tried to prepare myself to hear his voice but still, when he spoke, it took the wind out of me and I had to sit down in the chair at the breakfast table.
"Hi, yourself. It's so good to hear from you. How are you?" His voice was still low, raspy, sexy, and familiar, as if he'd spoken to me every day for the past ten years.
"I'm fine." Something caught in my throat and I tried to swallow but couldn't. I tried to speak, but words were stuck somewhere in my chest. "Uhm…"
"Are you in Manhattan? When can I see you?"
"Yes. I'm here. Uhm. I have a meeting with my publisher. Uhm. When are you, uhm, free?"
"Lunch?"
"Can we make it closer to dinner?" I was thinking that if we met for lunch and he had to get back to work that wouldn't give us much time. "Maybe you could come over and we can get take out?"
"Sure. Five? Is that too early?"
"No. I mean yes. I mean no, it's not too early. Yes, five is fine." I had to hang up before I threw up. I felt frightened in a way I couldn't remember feeling since I'd waited for Rodney to show up in Washington, DC. I put the receiver back on the hook and stared at the phone as if Rodney might come flying out of it into my apartment.
I took a long shower, washed and dried my hair, dressed in a business suit, low-heeled pumps, pearls, and a smart handbag. I went to Mr. Mobley's office at Shilling and met with the marketing team and learned that The Catfish Stories had exceeded expectations and there was a plan for another print run and distribution to all the bookstore chains in the country. We talked about the book signings that Billy and Cynthia had scheduled for me throughout New York and New Jersey over the next month.
"We might look at international sales at the end of the year if the book does well on the retail shelves," Mobley said. "I sure wish you'd come back to work here and find more of these types of books for us. Surely there are other nonfiction authors writing new and different narratives that appeal to the general reader."
"I'm honored that you would want me back, but my life is too full right now. I'm raising a teenager, spending a quarter of the year in Louisiana, and writing another book." I smiled at Mobley and he nodded as if he knew what my answer would be.
He asked if I'd like to have lunch with him at his club but I declined. I needed the afternoon to prepare myself, to go over what I would say to Rodney, to think, to obsess, to drive myself crazy.
I went shopping and bought Lilly some new school clothes, although she didn't like it when I chose things for her. I needed something to do to fill the time, and I reasoned with myself that we would have fun exchanging them if they didn't suit her.
I stopped at the bakery and got a freshly baked loaf of French bread and two individual cheesecakes in small pie tins. I went to the local deli near my building and bought cheese and a couple of bottles of wine. Then I dropped in at the Brasserie and asked for a menu. I told the hostess I would be calling to order dinner and someone would come down to pick it up. She knew me from the many times I'd been in there and said "No problem." I went up to my apartment, put everything away, and had nothing to do for an hour.
I changed into jeans and a silk blouse that buttoned up the front. It was a blush color, and I knew it looked good on me and hung from my shoulders to the top of the zipper on my jeans in just the right way. I brushed my hair 100 strokes until it was shiny and almost red. I brushed my teeth, reapplied lip gloss, twice, sprayed perfume on my cleavage and behind my ears, and then I paced.
Finally, the doorman buzzed from downstairs and said I had a guest, "A Major Thibault, Ma'am."
"Please send him up, Joseph." I opened the door to the hallway, then closed it. I waited in the foyer inside my apartment, then went into the living room so I wouldn't open the door too quickly when he rang the doorbell. I was so nervous that I went back into the foyer and opened the door to peek into the hall. The elevator door opened and Rodney stepped off wearing his dress blues, his hat under his arm, looking more handsome than I remembered.
Beyond my memories and even dreams of how handsome Rodney was, this creature standing in the hall staring at me was the most majestic, elegant, beautiful man I'd ever seen.
He walked up to me and our toes almost touched. Neither of us spoke. We simply drank in each other's presence and tasted the other's aura. I couldn't move. He reached his hand out and touched the side of my arm and I quivered all over. I felt goose bumps crawl up my back and onto my neck. My mouth went dry and I could
ago at the airport in Baton Rouge when I left him behind, thinking we would meet in DC the following week to marry me.
I'm not sure how long we stood there with his hand on my arm and my feet glued to the travertine floor. What happened next seemed automatic, unplanned but natural. Both of my arms lifted as though they belonged to another body and they landed on Rodney's shoulders and my hands folded around his neck. He bent his head and when his lips pressed against mine my knees gave way and I slid, but he caught me and lifted me off the floor like a bride, carried me into the foyer, and shut the door with his foot. I heard his hat hit the floor and wasn't aware of anything else as he carried me to the sofa and gently lay me down.
He sat beside me, his butt near my waist, his hands on either side of my head. My arms were still around his neck and he kissed me again, with a passion and intensity I had forgotten existed. His tongue lightly touched the back of my teeth and I sucked in as if I could drink him, all of him, and swallow him so I'd never have to let him go again.
It all happened so fast and was so intense that later, as we lay naked in my huge bed and he stroked my hair and blew his warm breath in my ear, I marveled at the peace I felt. There was no guilt or remorse. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. I was happy and content as though I was exactly where I was always meant to be.
No words had been spoken. Not one.
As we lay there blissfully happy, I was no longer afraid to tell him the truth. I knew, in my knowing, that he loved me beyond measure and would forgive my mistakes in judgment.
So I told him about Lilly.
I told him about being pregnant and afraid. I told him about Josh and how he was with me during my pregnancy but left because he realized I could never love him like I loved Rodney.
I explained everything—about how, after Rodney decided not to come to New York to marry me I was so devastated I didn't know where to turn, and that somehow I felt God took me to the home of Joe and Emalene Franklin where I met and fell in love with Lilly.
I explained it all. I left nothing out because I knew now was the time for honesty and that I could never go back and say, “Oh, I forgot this part.”
Every now and then, Rodney would touch my shoulder or kiss my forehead or blow his warm breath on the side of my face or push his fingers through my hair as he lay on his side resting on his elbow, his chin in his palm and his leg across mine. I was on my back and often stared at the ceiling as I talked. From time to time, he'd put his fingers under my chin and turn my head so I would look at him and he would mouth "I love you," kiss me lightly, and I would go on explaining.
"And she's wonderful, Rod. You will love her. She looks like you and she has your disposition. She's kind and sweet and beautiful. No, she's gorgeous. And she's smart. Do I sound like a doting mother?"
"Yes, and I love it. I love that you love our daughter. I love that you think she's special."
"She is special. You'll see. Everyone thinks so, not just me." I looked at him and felt like a little girl trying to convince my daddy I was telling the truth. Rodney laughed at me and kissed me, and pulled me to him and we made love slowly and passionately, and honestly.
And I felt like a whole person for the first time in a very long time.
*
I called Joe at work the next day, after Rodney went back to the base. I told him that I’d met with Rodney and told him everything and that he wanted to meet Lilly. I asked Joe if he could prepare Lilly for me.
"I'd like to meet him first, Susie. I mean, she's my daughter, and I should know him, right?"
"Absolutely, Joe." When we hung up I called Rodney and asked whether he could have lunch with Joe that day. Joe didn't want me there and I felt I needed to respect his wishes so it would be just the two of them, men talk.
I was nervous as I watched the clock from noon until two o'clock when the phone finally rang. It was Joe asking if he could come over. Now I was really nervous about what had happened. I tried to call Rodney but he wasn't in, so I paced until I met Joe in the hall as he got off the elevator. At first glance, I could tell that everything was okay.
Joe sat on the sofa and I stood, wringing my hands.
"He's great, Susie. I mean, I'm really impressed with Rodney and, to be honest, I didn't want to like him. Competition, I guess." Joe told me he was totally taken by Rodney's honesty, sensitivity, and his desire to know Lilly.
"He told me that I would always be Lilly's daddy; that he could not replace those fifteen years. He said he would accept any relationship that worked for Lilly—uncle, big brother, cousin. He said that Lilly was the most important person in this equation and we should all be sensitive to her feelings. He's quite a special man, Susie. I guess I should have known he would be exceptional if you loved him enough to have his child and protect him and his family the way you did."
"Is that how you see it, Joe? That I protected him? I feel like I've been dishonest with everyone." I could feel tears start to sting my eyes and I tried to hold them back. It meant a lot that Joe didn't think I was some awful liar who did what I did for selfish reasons.
"Of course. And it's how I've explained things to Lilly. I told her that you could have had an abortion and that would have made your life a lot easier. I told her you couldn't tell anyone about being pregnant, much less pregnant by a Negro, because the Klan had almost succeeded in killing Rodney's dad and brother and almost got Rodney, just because they knew the two of you had been together. So had they found out you were pregnant with Rodney’s child… well, it's hard for her to understand that kind of hatred and bigotry, but she's a smart girl, and I think she's coming around."
"How should they meet? I mean, what do I do?"
"It's not up to you anymore. It's up to Rodney and Lilly. Just invite him to your apartment after Lilly gets back. Make sure they both know the other will be there. No surprises. They deserve honesty from you; that's all you owe them now."
Joe finished his coffee and got up to leave. He hugged me and told me to stop worrying, because everything would work out. I tried to heed his advice but I was a wreck by the time Rodney came over after work. I fell into his arms and shook and cried and he held me and kissed my hair and rubbed my back and said all the right things.
We had dinner downstairs at the Four Seasons and I told him Lilly would be home the next day. I asked if he was ready to meet her.
"I can't wait to meet her. Joe says she's exceptional. That makes two of you, so far. He's a good man, and I feel lucky you found him to be Lilly's dad."
"I haven't talked to Lilly about meeting you, yet. Joe is going to pave the way, so I'm not sure whether she's ready. Will your feelings be hurt if she wants to wait?"
"Of course not. We need to take this at her pace. But just so you know, I've taken the rest of the week off, and I'm at your disposal." He picked up my hand that he'd been holding on top of the table and kissed the tips of my fingers. I felt chills run down my spine and between my legs. I was still amazed by the visceral reaction I had to Rodney's touch.
We talked about other things besides Lilly and how much we still loved each other, but we didn't talk about the future of our relationship. I guess we both felt a lot depended on Lilly's reaction to Rodney.
I told him about my meeting with Mr. Mobley and that the book’s sales were going well. I also told him about a phone call I'd had from my attorney, Mr. Milton, who said there was oil on the property in Texas that Josh left me and the royalties were being deposited in my bank account every month.
"When he told me my bank balance I almost fainted." I didn't look at Rodney because I was afraid he would be turned off by all of my news of book sales and oil wells.
"I'm thinking about building a wing on the hospital in Jean Ville in Josh's name, a center for cleft lip and pallet surgery for underprivileged kids. Mr. Milton thinks we should call it The Ryan Center."
"Wow. That's a phenomenal idea, and a good use of the income from the oil." Rodney was still holding my hand and I finally looked at him. He was smiling, not turned off in the least.
I told him that Mr. Milton said it was essential to find a corporate lawyer in Louisiana to handle my affairs since the Ryan Center would be in there.
"'Louisiana’s laws are unusual,' Milton told me. 'They still adhere to Napoleonic laws, so you need an attorney who is versed in legal matters in that state.' You know anyone who fits that bill?" I smiled at Rodney, and he nodded, then kissed my hand.
Rodney said he had passed the Louisiana bar exam after he graduated from law school. He agreed to meet with Mr. Milton to discuss the legalities of building the center.
Rodney's brain turned me on as much as his body did, and by the time we made love that night I surrendered completely to him. No secrets. He even loved me after he discovered I was wealthy.
The only thing standing in our way now was Lilly.
*
She came home about midday Thursday and threw herself in my arms as though we hadn't seen each other in years. She told me how much she missed me and loved me, and how she hated being away from me.
"Susie, I'm sorry I've been so obstinate about Rodney and you not telling me. Daddy explained and, really, I don't understand how people could be the way they were, but I get it. I mean I do see why you couldn't tell me. I guess I still don't understand why you couldn't tell Rodney."
"I sometimes don't understand what that eighteen-year-old girl was thinking when she believed he shouldn't know. I was so afraid the Klan would kill him or a member of his family and it would be my fault. All I can say is, if it was a mistake, I am really sorry. I'm not eighteen anymore. Maybe today I would make a different decision."
"When I think that you had me when you were only three years older than I am now, I can understand how your decision-making might have been immature." She put her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my waist and we rocked back and forth a little, as we had when she was younger and I'd try to soothe her boo boo or hurt feelings.
Later we sat in the kitchen and had sandwiches and iced tea, and she gabbed about her step-brother and -sister and the new house Joe and his wife had bought, and how glad she was that she didn't live there. "I love seeing Daddy, but I like being with you best. And I love being in Jean Ville. I can't wait for Thanksgiving break." She took a bite of her sandwich and it was obvious she didn't realize that what she said was profound and made me feel happy.
"Would you like to meet Rodney?" I whispered it as if afraid for her to hear and become angry, or reject my suggestion.
"Of course I'd like to meet him. You mean when he moves back to Jean Ville and we go for holiday?"
"Well, sooner if you'd like. He's stationed in Brooklyn."
"Brooklyn, New York? Across the river, where we used to live?"
"Yes. Fort Hamilton. He's a Major in the army, a JAG officer. That's a…"
"I know what a JAG is—basically a lawyer in the military. A Major? Really?"
"He's special, Lilly. I've told you that, but I guess you have to meet him and judge for yourself."
"When can he come over?" She stood up, and her chair screeched. She seemed excited, filled with anticipation.
"Whenever you say. You're in charge." I looked up at her from my seat and felt incredulous at her positive reaction.
"Well, NOW! As soon as he can. Call him." She was so excited I expected her to start jumping up and down like she had when she was a child and Santa brought her a pink bicycle and a miniature kitchen. I got up and went to the den and picked up the phone on the library table behind the sofa. She followed me and almost hung on my shoulder as I dialed Rodney's phone number.
"Hi," I said when he answered. "You busy?"
"I've been waiting to hear from you, beautiful. How's your day?"
"Pretty good, I…" Behind me Lilly was chanting.
"Ask him, ask him." She was impatient and acted excited in a way I hadn't seen her behave since she'd become a teenager. She was good at keeping her feelings in check, trying to act like an adult, but today she was acting like a typical fifteen-year-old.
"I was wondering when you could come over. Lilly's home and she'd like to meet you." I held my breath and there was silence for longer than usual while I allowed myself to second-guess everything. But Rodney came through.
"Wow. That's great. I'll take the subway and be there in less than an hour. I love you, Susie." I heard the buzz after he hung up but continued to hold the phone to my ear.
"What'd he say? What'd he say?"
"He's on his way." I hung up the receiver and felt like I was going to be sick. I went to the bathroom and vomited my sandwich. It was all too much. When I came out of the bathroom, Lilly was sitting on my bed.
"What should I wear?" She was still excited, and I had to get in gear. I swallowed my fear and helped her select jeans and a shirt from the new clothes I'd bought her. She didn't complain that I'd shopped without her or say I didn't know her taste. She liked almost everything I'd bought and chose a silk shirt that had a collar and two chest pockets. It was emerald green and brought out her eyes. She tried to tame her curls with a hairbrush but it was impossible, so she pulled it back in a ponytail and tendrils popped out around her face. She looked beautiful and innocent, and very much like Rodney.
We sat on the sofa to wait but she was fidgety and kept getting up and walking to the intercom. She would go into the foyer and open the door to the hall and peer at the elevators. Finally, she sat down again and the buzzer sounded on the living room wall near the foyer. We both jumped up.
I went to the intercom and Lilly was hanging on me, lifting herself up on her toes then letting her heels down again, over and over. I pressed the button and said, "Yes?"
"Major Thibault is in the lobby, Mrs. Ryan," Joseph said.
"Please send him up, Joseph." I looked at Lilly and her happy face had turned to a huge question mark. It scared me.
"Thibault?" She mouthed the word, then repeated it aloud, "Thibault?"
"Yes. Rodney Thibault." I walked into the foyer and had my hand on the doorknob when she whispered behind me.
"You mean Mr. Ray Thibault who owns the Esso station is my…?" She was so close I could smell the turkey on her breath. I wasn't sure how to answer her, and there was very little time to explain. I turned to face her.
"I'm sorry. Did I forget to tell you his last name?"
"That means Ellie Thibault is my cousin?" Her mind was going in a thousand directions and I didn't know how to get her to refocus on the fact that she was about to meet her father for the first time.
"I don't know Ellie. Who is she?" I was lost in Lilly's dilemma when the doorbell rang, and I jumped and pulled on the doorknob that was already in my hand.
Standing in the hall in starched blue jeans and a green and beige striped rugby shirt was Rodney. Even though I was expecting him, I was surprised. He looked over my shoulder and things happened so quickly that before I could say a word he walked past me, squeezing my shoulder as he went by, and when I turned around, Lilly was in his arms. They were both crying, her arms wrapped around his waist, his long arms around her shoulders. He was bent over and the side of his face rested on the top of her head. I watched the natural love between a father and daughter happen.
Today I wonder why I worried so much about Rodney and Lilly meeting and not loving each other. It was no different from the first time I met her. This father and daughter were so much alike—tender-hearted, caring, non-judging, smart, and they automatically loved each other without reservation.
I can't describe the reunion we had that night. All three of us were in love with each other. We floated downstairs to have dinner at the Brasserie and I don't remember what we ate. Rodney asked Lilly questions and she chattered on about her past and her visits to Jean Ville and how she was so happy to know that her best friends were her cousins and how she wanted to be a doctor when she was older and that she didn't have a boyfriend yet because none of the boys were smart enough.
She asked Rodney about his life in the military, and I learned that he'd been stationed in England and had seen all of Western Europe and parts of the Eastern Bloc. He'd been to North Africa and Egypt, and was interested in visiting Israel someday.
I was a spectator, and it was like watching the best movie I'd ever seen, listening to them talk and learning things about both Lilly and Rodney I didn't know. Every now and then one of them would realize I was there and say something to me like, "Did you hear that, he's been to Egypt." or "You didn't tell me she wanted to be a doctor." Otherwise, I sat at the table and had the most sensational evening of my entire life with the two people I loved most in the world.
Lilly and I saw Rodney every day after that evening. He didn't spend the night, because we didn't think it was appropriate, but being with Rodney and Lilly was better than making love.
The week before Thanksgiving, Rodney showed up with pizza and we sat in the kitchen with a six-pack of Cokes. Rodney and Lilly had burping contests, and I kept reprimanding them for their manners. We laughed a lot. Then Rodney asked us if we could go into the living room, that he had something serious to discuss with us. I had no idea where this was going as Lilly and I sat on the sofa, holding hands and Rodney paced in front of us with his hands clasped behind his back.
"I guess there's no other way to say this but to come right out with it." He stopped pacing and stood with his feet apart, hands still behind his back and looked from me to Lilly, back and forth. "I want to marry you. Both of you. So how can I convince you to say, 'Yes’?”
He brought his hands around to the front and had a black velvet box in each palm. He got down on both knees and flipped the boxes open. The box in his left hand held a two-carat diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds that made the stone look triple the size. The other box held a lime green peridot. It was Lilly's birthstone, and she knew it right away.
Neither Lilly nor I spoke at first, and I saw beads of perspiration gather on Rodney's brow as we hesitated. I was waiting for Lilly and, I guess, she was waiting for me. We finally looked at each other and she nodded at me. I turned to Rodney and said, "I'm convinced!"
"Me, too," Lilly jumped off the sofa and hugged Rodney's neck. He put my ring on the coffee table and lifted one of his knees so Lilly could sit on it. As he slid the ring on her finger, I was reminded of the time Josh had done that very thing when Lilly was six. I wondered if she remembered.
She looked at me and a sign passed between the two of us that said, "We've done this before. It was good then, and it's good now."
Lilly got off Rodney's knee and sat on the sofa, admiring her ring, turning it around, holding it up to the light.
He looked at me and pointed then retracted his index finger, a sign for me to come closer. I got up and sat on his knee and he slipped the diamond ring on my finger. I hugged him and we kissed deeply and passionately until Lilly said, "Hey, you two, stop it, you're embarrassing me." We all started laughing and had a group hug that ended with the three of us on the floor rolling around, tickling each other and comparing our rings.
That night after Lilly went to bed, Rodney and I went to my bedroom, made love, and he spent the night for the first time since he'd met Lilly. I thought he should be gone by the time she woke up in the morning but he said, "No secrets. We will build this family on honesty."
When she got up the next morning, he was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, drinking coffee. She poured a glass of orange juice and sat with us as if it was perfectly normal to get up and have breakfast with your mother and father.