Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [49]
Claire went to the table and sat down beside her daughter. “You know why Meghann wants to meet Bobby?”
Alison rolled her eyes. “Duh, Mommy.”
“Duh?” Claire bit back a smile. At some point, she'd have to address the issue of respectful responses, but she'd better wait until she could do it without cracking up. She held out her hand instead. “You know what this ring means?”
“It's not a ring. It's foil.”
“This kind of ring is a symbol. The ring isn't what matters. The words that come with it are what matters. And Bobby asked me to marry him.”
“I know that, Mommy. C'n I have some cheddar Goldfish?”
“Let's eat in a second. I want to talk to you about this. No one is more important to me than you. No one. I'll always love you, even if I'm married.”
“Jeez, Mommy. I know that. Now c'n I have—”
“Forget the Goldfish.” No wonder It's like talking to a five year old was a common expression of frustration. “Do you mind if I marry Bobby?”
“Oh.” Ali's little face scrunched up. She bunched up her left cheek, then her right. Then she looked up at Claire. “C'n I call him Daddy?”
“He'd like that.”
“So at school, on family day, he'll come for the sack races and help Brittani's dad barbecue the hot dogs?”
Claire released a breath. It wasn't easy for her to make blanket promises for another human being. That kind of faith lived in the hearts of women who'd grown up in safer homes, where Mom and Dad could be counted on. But she believed in Bobby as much as one of her mother's daughters could believe in any man. “Yes. We can count on him.”
Alison grinned. “Okay. I want him to be my dad. Daddy.” She was obviously testing the word, weighing how it felt to say aloud. It was amazing how many little girls' dreams could be contained in those few letters.
Big girls' dreams, too, for that matter.
Alison gave Claire a quick kiss, then scampered off, dragging a dirty Elmo on the floor behind her. She went upstairs to her bedroom. Seconds later, The Little Mermaid theme music started.
Claire stared down at her engagement ring. As makeshift as it was, it gave her a warm feeling of hopefulness.
“One down,” she said aloud. Actually, it was two. Both her father and her daughter had put their stamp of approval on the wedding plans.
That left only two blood-related holdouts. Meghann, who definitely hadn't sounded approving, and Mama, who probably wouldn't much care. Claire had been putting off the call. No good ever came from talking to Mama.
Still, she was her mother, and she had to be called.
The funny part was, when Claire thought of her “mother,” the face that came to her was Meg's. In every childhood memory, it was her sister who'd been there . . . until, of course, the day she decided she'd had enough of caring for Claire.
And Mama. Well. Truth be told, Claire's memories of Mama were sketchy at best. Claire was lucky in that; the brunt of mama's flightiness had fallen on Meg. Still, they all pretended that they were family.
Claire picked up the phone and punched in the number. It rang and rang. Finally, an answering machine clicked on. Mama's thick-as-honey-and-twice-as-sweet Southern drawl was accompanied by music. “I do so appreciate your call on m'private number. Unfortunately, I'm too darn busy to answer, but leave me a message and I'll return your call just as soon as I can. And look for my interview in People magazine, on newsstands in late June. Bye, y'all.”
Only Mama would self-promote on her answering machine.
“Hey, Mama,” she said at the beep, “It's Claire here. Your daughter. I've got some big news and I'd like to talk to you. Call me.” She left her number, just in case, and hung up.
She was still holding the phone, listening to the dial tone when she realized her mistake. She was getting married in less than two weeks. If she waited for Mama to call, the wedding would be long past. The point was to invite Mama, not to simply inform. You had to invite your mother to your wedding, even if the woman who bore you had the parenting