Hangman's Root by Susan Wittig Albert Read Free Book Online Page B

about the family bit? I got the idea that she only wants to be acknowledged." Only? Isn't having our existence acknowledged the most important thing there is? Isn't that what we all want, deep down?
    "That's what she said, " Ruby replied. "But she didn't come just to hear me say 'Hi, kid, sure, I'm your mom. Now beat it.' You don't spend two years digging up your mother—"
    I smothered a laugh. Ruby's metaphors sometimes get away from her.
    Ruby frowned. "I mean it, China. She said she dreamed about finding me for years and years. It was all she thought about. It's not fair to just sort of leave her hanging. Well, is it?"
    "I don't know," I said. "I'm no expert on mothers and daughters." In my oldest memories of Leatha, my mother, she's getting blitzed while she waits for my father to come home from the office. After a while she stops waiting and just gets blitzed. Dad died ten years ago, she joined AA and got therapy, and now she's marrying again. But while I'm glad that Leatha is pulling herself together, her recovery doesn't mean much to me. I still feel a deep-down vacant place where the mother part ought to be. I hoped that Amy's adoptive mother had filled that vacancy for her.
    Ruby closed her eyes, sighing heavily. "I'll have to tell Shannon."
    "Why are you making such a big deal about it?" I asked. "It's none of Shannon's business. It's not like the three of you are going to be living together." When I said that, I remembered I had something important of my own to tell Ruby. Amy's birth announcement had driven it out of my head.
    Ruby's eyes popped open. "But Shannon's got a sister! She has to know,''

    "A half-sister," I said. "Really, Ruby, I think it would be a mistake to make a big deal out of this. Let Amy take the lead in this family thing. Wait and see what she's comfortable with."
    But Ruby wasn't listening. Where matters of the heart are concerned, her only gait is a flat-out gallop. "I'll have to tell Mother, too," she said. "I wonder how she'll take the news."
    "Speaking of news," I said, and told her.
    "You're moving in with McQuaid!" She pummeled my arm, shrieking. "China! That's great! That's terrific! I'm so thrilled! We'll have to get everybody together and have a big housewarm-ing party!"
    "Not so fast." I pulled my arm back, "I said, maybe. Anyway, first we've got to find a house."
    "You're looking?"
    I nodded. "He is, anyway. He's on spring break."
    "Well, then." She was satisfied. "When you move in, then we'll have the housewarming." She grinned. "We can't let your Inner Child miss a chance for a party." Ruby started working on her Inner Child last winter, after she and her former boyfriend Andrew Drake broke up. Lately, she's been working on mine. I wondered when she'd start on Amy's.
    "Well, at least it'll relieve the space problem," I said practically. "If I'm not living in the back, I can take down the wall and—"
    "Is that all you can say?" Ruby was aghast. "Where's the romance in your soul, China? Where's the love}''
    "Yeah, well, people can love one another and still make a mess of things, you know. Love isn't the magic wand that transforms all life's problems." The phone rang and I reached for it, but Ruby put her hand on mine.
    "China," she said, very seriously, "did anybody ever tell you that you have a big issue around intimacy?"

    The rest of Tuesday was ordinary, thank God. Since spring was practically here, sales of herb plants were brisk, along with gardening how-to books. The Library Guild bought over a hundred dollars' worth of materials for a potpourri party, and RuthAnn Lansdown, representing the Pecan Springs Garden Club, stopped in to ask if I would give a talk on edible blossoms at the April meeting. I wrote an ad for my spring herb classes and phoned it in to the Enterprise, reordered books and essential oils, and tried not to think about McQuaid's house hunt. About seven he came over to tell me he hadn't had any luck yet, and stayed for a mushroom omelet and an old Robert