“One. But she’s their daughter. She won’t see me either.”
“She won’t see you? She’s an adult and she goes along with that insanity?”
Sam had asked himself the same questions dozens of times. “She’s afraid of my dad, I guess. She’s seen what he’s capable of. She doesn’t want to be excommunicated, and in some respects, I can see her point. She’s three years younger than me. When all this first happened, she was in no position to go against dad’s dictum.”
“She’s a lot older now. She must have some resources of her own. She could call you on the phone, arrange to meet you somewhere.”
“Not really. She married a guy from home. From what I hear, he’s out of the same mold as Dad. They don’t have much money, and they have a baby girl. Time is as tight for her now as money.”
“A baby?” That made things even worse. “You have a niece you’ve never seen?”
Sam clearly did not like the direction the conversation was taking. “Yes, I have a niece I’ve never seen, and it hurts. I’ve tried to send her gifts but they were all returned unopened. She’s five, not much of a baby anymore, and doing just fine without me.” He held up the pitcher of orange juice.
Susan declined the offer. She was having trouble conceiving of going through life totally alone. “You must have other relatives. What about the uncle who loaned you money when you started college?”
“He died four years ago, and there’s no one else worth seeing. Don’t look so stricken, Susan. I have plenty of friends. And I love my work.”
But Susan was trying to imagine what it would be like to sever oneself, or be severed from one’s roots. The very thought made her feel wobbly. While her father was far from attentive, she had aunts and uncles and cousins. And she had Savannah. Despite all the times in her life when she had resented that, at the moment it was reassuring.
“Easter’s coming up,” she said on impulse. “You can celebrate it with me.”
Sam got to his feet. “The beauty of my job,” he said, producing a grin, “is that I often get to work through things like Christmas and Easter and the Fourth of July.” He held out a hand. “Want to take a walk? It’s peaceful out on the pier.”
Without a second thought, Susan put her hand in his. A short time later, they were sitting side by side on the end of the small wooden dock. Susan was wrapped in her fur, Sam in a pea jacket. For a time they said nothing, but simply listened to the rush of the river. Sam was right. The spot was peaceful.
But Susan couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. Peering at him over her collar, she asked, “Do you really like your work?”
“Yes, I really like my work. That’s not to say that I want to do it forever. There are other things out there that interest me, too.”
“Like?”
“Law. I’d like to be doing what your sister is.”
“So, go to law school.”
He tossed a splinter of wood into the wind. “Someday I will.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I’m not ready.”
“If it’s a matter of money—”
“It’s not. I’m just not ready. Who knows? Maybe I never will be.”
Susan stared at him. “How can you not be ready for something that would better your life?”
“I don’t know that it would better my life.”
“Of course it would. You’d be a lawyer. You’d have a profession. You’d be earning twice as much money as you are now, and you’d have the potential for earning even more.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“It sure comes close.”
He eyed her head-on. “You’ve got bundles of the stuff. I don’t see that you’re so happy with your life.”
“I’m happy.”
