He nodded. “Let me know what I can do. Anything at all. Just ask.”
She gazed at him in amazement. “Thank you. Really. Thank you.”
He smiled again, and crossed their strip of lawn, disappearing a moment later into his house.
Still not having moved, Suzanne stared after him. Now she felt teary because he’d been so understanding and so nice. She’d known him for over five years, and had never known a thing about him except that he was obsessively tidy.
But today, she’d learned all kinds of things. And one, she thought in astonishment, was the color of his eyes. They were gray, with tiny flecks of green.
She’d looked into his eyes, without even realizing she’d broken years of habit.
Was it possible they could actually become friends?
Suzanne shook her head again in bemusement. Who’d have thought?
CHAPTER FOUR
SUZANNE WAS AT WORK on Wednesday when Melissa Stuart called again.
“Suzanne,” she said without preamble, “I’m afraid we have a problem.”
The tone, a little cool, was one Suzanne hadn’t heard from her before. Her heart seemed to skip a beat, then gave an uncomfortable bump in her chest. “A problem?”
“I got to looking through your file and discovered that the background check was never completed. Unfortunately, when I ran one it turned up something you didn’t warn us about. There were apparently two domestic-disturbance calls made to your address during the time when you were listed as owner.”
Feeling a little sick, Suzanne turned her back on the one customer browsing the bins of yarn. “No charges were filed,” she said, hating the way her voice shook. “My ex-husband and I were on the verge of divorce.”
“Can I assume there was violence in your home?”
“No!” she protested. “No. Not the way you mean. We…” She took a breath. “He threw things. Once he punched a hole in the wall. His anger was one of the reasons for the divorce.”
“I did locate your ex-husband.” There was a momentary pause. “Josh Easton. He said, I quote, that maybe you both had a little trouble controlling your tempers.”
The air escaped her with a whoosh. “Josh said that? Did he know why you were asking?”
Another brief pause. “Yes, I did explain.”
Oh, God. This was her worst nightmare. “He was very controlling,” she tried to explain. “And angry when I asked him to leave. He’s trying to hurt me now by lying to you.”
“Suzanne, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. You have really outstanding character references. But I can’t ignore this kind of red flag. I’m sure you understand.”
Her stomach actually hurt now. She hunched slightly, one hand splayed on it. Tears burned in her eyes. “So…that’s it? You won’t approve an adoption? What about Sophia and Jack?”
“Can you suggest any witnesses to these fights?”
Grasping at any hope, she asked, “Aren’t there police reports?”
“The reports are brief. Neither officer seemed able nor willing to assign blame. They apparently issued warnings and left.”
“You could talk to them…”
“One has long since left the department. The other officer has no recollection of that particular call.”
Suzanne squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t picture either face. Only the uniform, the flashing lights atop the squad cars that had recalled for her the night her parents had died, when police had brought word.
“The neighbors,” she said, in a voice just above a whisper. “You could interview them.”
Behind her, a voice said, “Excuse me. I wonder if you could help me decide whether a yarn this thick would work for my project.”
She swung around, covering the phone with her hand. Somewhere, she found a smile that she prayed didn’t look ghastly. “Can you give me just a minute?”
“Of course,” the woman said, and retreated.
Suzanne lifted the receiver again. “The neighbors on both sides were living there then. I always suspected one of them called the police.” Tom. In her heart, she’d known. It had to have been him at least once. Long after the police had left the first time, she’d heard the neighbors on the other side come home and seen their lights go on. “They may have heard enough to support me.”
The caseworker’s voice softened a little. “I’ll be glad to interview them, with your permission.”
“Please do. Please.” Despising the tremor in her voice that made her sound weak, Suzanne pushed on. “I’m the opposite of violent. I’ve always been humiliated by what happened. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“I understand. Thank you for your suggestions. I’ll be talking to you shortly.”
Despite the fact that she wanted to go hide in the back and cry, Suzanne made herself help the customer choose a yarn that was more suitable for the pattern she’d selected. After ringing up the purchase, she sat on the stool behind the register and prayed no one else would come in until she’d pulled herself together.
She’d never even thought of those awful scenes with Josh as something that might keep her from being able to adopt a child. Her humiliation at the knowledge that neighbors had heard and even called the police had strengthened her resolution to end her marriage. Private shame, she’d been able to bear, but not public. And now, to think that Josh could kill her dream this way….
As bewildered as she was angry, Suzanne was as bereft of understanding as she’d always been where he was concerned. Didn’t he remember the time when he loved her? Why was he still lashing out at her?
She stared at the phone and wished she could talk to someone. But who? Tom Stefanec? What would she say? Gee, I don’t know how much of my fights with my ex you heard, but I hope it was enough. He had said he thought she’d be a great mother, so maybe…
Panic and hope beat their wings in her chest, tangling and tearing. He probably hadn’t heard anything but raised voices and crashes. And however kind he’d been to her recently, she had a suspicion he was too honest to lie.
She could call a friend. But she’d never told any of them about the way Josh had sometimes talked to her, had made excuses when they’d commented about a put-down or his lack of interest in something that mattered to her. Even after she’d found the resolve to stand up for herself and tell him to leave, she had still never wanted to admit how badly she’d let herself be treated.
Carrie? But all Carrie knew was that her sister’s marriage hadn’t been good. To this day, Suzanne had managed to evade any conversation about what had really gone wrong. She didn’t think she could bring herself to tell the whole bitter history, not right now.
Despair washing over her, Suzanne pictured Jack and Sophia on Sunday, imagining having their own bedrooms. How would they handle being told, Gosh, sorry, forget those bedrooms you were dreaming about, we’ll have to try to find you another adoptive family?
Right that minute, Suzanne felt cruel at having given them hope, and worthless. Exactly, she realized, what Josh wanted her to feel.
TOM WAS SURPRISED TO GET a call that evening from a woman who introduced herself as an adoption counselor at the agency where Suzanne had been approved.
“We’re following up on some information we recently received,” she said, “and I’m wondering if you’d