Kathleen O'Brien - A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family

“Is it Carrie?”

Just that quickly Sue’s mood went from self-pitying to defensive. “How do you know Carrie?”

“I’m her uncle, her mother’s older brother, and I know you have her.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny your allegations, Mr. Kraynick. Please call social services.” She rattled off the government number. If he was legitimate, the city would send him to WeCare. And Sonia, Carrie’s social worker.

Sue was already walking back to check on Carrie, about to hang up.

“Wait!” The urgency in his voice stopped her. “Please,” he said more calmly. “Just hear me out.”

He didn’t sound like a crackpot. Weary, maybe. Desperate, perhaps. But not nuts.

“How did you find me?”

“A friend of Christy’s. Apparently Christy talked about you all the time. She said Christy had visitation rights.”

That was true.

Christy had never missed a visit.

And maybe that was why Carrie was so special. Because Sue had spent a lot of time with the baby’s sixteen-year-old mother. Had seen how hard the girl was working to get her baby back. How determined she was.

“Why are you calling?”

“Because you have a say in Carrie’s welfare and I’m concerned. I…”

She was invited to all meetings pertaining to the baby’s welfare. She gave input for Carrie’s sake. And only regarding what she’d seen with her own eyes. Only regarding what she knew, not what she heard.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Mr. Kraynick. Maybe if you talk to your sister—”

“What do you know about Christy?”

“Uh-uh, Mr. Kraynick,” she said softly, laying a sleeping Camden in his crib. Carrie was sound asleep, on her right side, just as Sue had left her. “This conversation is over.”

“I grew up in foster care,” he said, as though that gave him privilege. Some insider’s edge.

“Then you know you shouldn’t be calling me.”

“I know that, right now, you’re my best shot.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m no shot at all.”

“My mother was a user,” he said out of the blue, reminding her of Joe when he spoke about his father—Sue’s uncle now. With seemingly no emotion, as if he didn’t care. She wasn’t convinced.

Joe, her cousin. Uncle Adam. Uncle Daniel. Grandma lying to her all her life. Grandpa being unfaithful. Her maternal grandmother giving away her mother, but raising two sons and a grandson. Grandma Sarah’s diamond shockingly going to her mother instead of to Uncle Sam.

Even after twenty-four hours Sue still couldn’t quiet the cacophony.

Shaking her head, she tuned back in to the conversation at hand. And wondered why it was still taking place. The man should never have called. His life, his mother’s life, had nothing to do with her.

Was he some kind of crackpot, after all?

He was still talking.

“The point is,” he said, “that while I was in and out of her life growing up, I didn’t know her that well. Which is why I was not even aware she’d had another child, that I had a sister, until last week,” he continued, almost as though he was reading to her from a storybook.

A sad one. As an infant, Rick Kraynick could have been any number of her babies.

In a quiet moment, with Camden’s few things packed, his long, furry snake rattle on top of the bag, ready to hand to him as he was carried out the door, Sue sank down on the couch in her family room.

“All the more reason you should talk to her,” she said, though she still wasn’t going to get involved. “Christy’s very sweet. And frankly, could use your help. She’d probably be overjoyed to know she has a brother, that you care about Carrie…”

“I…you haven’t been told yet.”

“Told what?”

“Christy’s dead.”

She couldn’t have heard him right.

“What?” Sue covered her face.

“She committed suicide last week. Her funeral was Friday.”

No! First Grandma. Now this? What was happening? “I…last week was a bit crazy here…”

Sonia knew that. And since Christy wasn’t due for another visit until the following week, her social worker likely figured there’d been no reason to further burden Sue yet.

“I can’t believe it. I just saw her…”

“I got a call from the police.” He sounded weary. And as confused as she felt. “They were trying to locate next of kin. She had my mom’s name on her to notify in case of emergency, but the number was disconnected. That happens a lot with my mother. My mother’s last name is the same as mine, and Kraynick isn’t common. When they did a search, my number came up and…”

Oh, God. Christy? Dead? She’d been doing so well. Was so excited about getting Carrie back. “She was only sixteen! It doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m struggling with it all myself.”

Sue’s mind raced, and her heart felt painful jabs at every thought. A child having a child before she had a chance to grow up. But struggling so hard to make it, anyway. Carrie, an orphan. Grandma gone. Joe, her cousin. Jenny having been lied to by her own father her whole life. Never knowing her mother. Sue, never knowing Grandma Jo. And now this stranger, this man, losing a sister before he ever knew her. A young sister.

“Carrie is my niece,” Rick Kraynick said, breaking the silence. “I intend to adopt her. But right now I need to meet her. To make sure she’s okay. To connect with her. Let her get a sense of my presence.”

“You’ll have to go through social services to arrange that.”

“I’m sure you realize that’s not as easy as it sounds. I’m a single male who never knew her mother and without enough proof that I’m family. They aren’t real eager to give me the time of day. For all intents and purposes, the mother we have in common didn’t raise either one of us. All I have going for me is half a set of genes, which has yet to be proven. My lawyer’s on it, but it could be weeks before this is sorted out. We’re filing for a hearing that will stay any adoption proceedings already in process, but there’s no guarantee we’ll be granted the hearing. And it’s not the state that we have to be concerned with at this point, as I’m sure you’re aware. It’s WeCare. And their red tape is worse than the state’s.”

Stacking blocks were strewn around the quilt on the floor, residuals from this morning’s after-breakfast, pre-bath playtime. Both Camden and Carrie could roll over now. She’d be sitting up soon.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kraynick, but—”

“Please,” he interrupted before Sue was even sure what she’d been about to tell him. She had guidelines. Her status as a foster mother rested on them. Because the rules were in place to protect the children.

To protect Carrie.

“I have to see her.” All coolness, or hint of composure, sure, left the man’s voice. “She’s a part of the sister I just saw buried.”

Sue said nothing.

“Family is not something I can take for granted, Ms. Bookman. I grew up without one. I know how it feels to wonder what’s wrong with you, why you weren’t wanted enough to have a mother and father who loved you. What it’s like to be caught in the system. I survived. My little sister did not. I can’t let the same thing happen to her daughter.”

“You’re already doing what you can. You’re applying to adopt her.”

Jenny had been adopted. And lied to.

“I’ve started the paperwork.” Frustration seeped from the man’s voice on the other end of the line. “But I’ve been led to believe that someone else is there before me. A possible family member. From what I gleaned from my attorney, the process was already in the works before Christy’s death, just in case she didn’t meet minimum standards to get Carrie back. If I can’t get a stay, the adoption could be granted before I’m able to prove my rights to the child.”