other a few moments, nothing spoken, but so much said.
Lucy tugged her arm, and she stepped back. “We’ll be going, Karen. I know you’ll keep us posted.”
“I will.” She gave a nod, along with a lingering look at Lucy. “We love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said, then turned and started down the porch steps.
Kelsey’s knees felt weak as she trudged back to the minivan. Once inside she caught her breath. Ross gave a brief turn of his head, but didn’t ask and she was relieved. She looked over the seat at Lucy. “What’s in the bag?”
“Presents.”
“Looks like a lot of presents.”
She nodded, but without a smile.
“Dad said he was sorry he missed Christmas last year, and he gave me birthday presents for this year.” She dug into the sack and then looked up. “Want to see?”
Kelsey nodded, and as Lucy pulled out the items, Ross rolled onto the highway. She’d forgotten that Doug hadn’t sent gifts for Christmas. It was so like him to forget special occasions that she’d given up expecting anything. Now he wanted to be a father.
She stifled her resentment. If she were dying, Kelsey suspected she would do the same thing, try to resolve mistakes, lavish love on those important in her life and make amends for the hurts she’d caused. Ross’s words filled her mind. She’d never forget, but she could forgive. Her emotions vacillated between compassion and animosity.
Lucy delved into the bag and pulled out a turquoise outfit, a print skirt and a top to match—even the right size. “And he gave me Chinese checkers.” She grinned. “It’s so much fun. Daddy played it with me. Have you played it, Mom?”
“A long time ago.” Clothes, games. Kelsey wondered if she’d finally come to the end.
“And puzzles.” She brought out two jigsaw puzzles.
She almost rolled her eyes. Doug knew she loved them, even as a toddler. He’d certainly worked to impress his daughter.
“And there’s more.” Lucy dug into the grocery sack again, tugging out another blouse, this one with coral trim, and then she lifted out a picture frame.
Kelsey swallowed the rising emotion as Lucy put it in her hand. Tears slipped into her eyes, and she looked away before Lucy saw them.
Brushing her hands across the dampness, she looked down at the photograph of Lucy and Doug, cheeks together, smiling. It appeared to be an older photograph—maybe two years earlier—when Lucy had visited him. Though the picture rent her heart, a familiar stab of resentment pierced her. Sarcasm clung to her tongue until she was able to consume it and respond. “It’s a nice photograph, Lucy.” She lowered the frame into Lucy’s hands.
“Daddy said to put it on my nightstand.”
Her father’s suggestion grated her, but she turned her thoughts around, trying to hear Ross’s voice. Forgiveness. Lord, I’m such a sinner. Calm waved past her like a breeze. “That way you’ll see your father every morning when you wake up.”
Lucy nodded, a troubled look growing on her face. “Mom.”
Kelsey gazed at her. “They’re nice gifts. I like them.”
She slipped the photograph back into the paper bag. “Can I ask you a question?”
The sound of her voice aroused her concern. She didn’t want to answer a question, but seeing Lucy’s face, she had to. “Okay.”
“Why didn’t you go inside and see Daddy?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I wanted you and your father to have this special time together.”
“But he talked about you.”
Her pulse heightened. “What do you mean?” Weight fell on her shoulders.
“He asked me if you were doing okay, and was your job real good.” Her eyes searched Kelsey’s. “Was it okay I told him you were fine and you had lots of work?”
“That was fine. You should always be honest.”
“Oh, and I forgot. He gave me something to give you.”
She delved back into the bottom of the sack and pulled out an envelope. “Maybe it’s a letter.” Lucy handed it to her. “Read it.”
It was the last thing she wanted to do, but how could she explain that to her eager daughter? She pulled open the tab and drew out the note. When she unfolded it, a check had been tucked inside. She gazed at the amount and cringed as she scanned the message. Her chest compressed against her lungs, and she fought for breath.
“It’s long, Lucy. I’ll read it later. Okay?”
Lucy shrugged.
Doug’s guilt for his neglect seemed obvious by the size of the check. But money wasn’t the issue now, although it had been. Giving love and attention to Lucy was vital.