Necessary Lies (36 page)

I sat down and opened my briefcase, pulling out files on some of my other clients. I tried to concentrate on them, but I was too annoyed. Charlotte and Ann were talking about my case in my office, but I wasn’t allowed to come in? It was humiliating as well as just plain wrong.

Fifteen minutes passed before my office door opened and Ann came out. She gave me a quick wave, but left the main office without so much as a “hello.”

I walked into my office and shut the door behind me. “What’s going on?” I asked Charlotte. She was jotting something in a folder on her lap. “Why was Ann here? Why couldn’t I come in?”

“You said you have some concerns about Ivy Hart?” she asked.

“I need to stop the petition,” I said, still standing in front of the door.

Charlotte shook her head. “You don’t stop a petition after it’s been approved by the board, Jane.”

“She doesn’t want it and I think, given what’s happened with her sister, we need to—”

“She’s fifteen. She’s an epileptic. She’s pregnant and she didn’t even understand that she could
get
pregnant. How long do you think it will be before she’s pregnant again? It’s not up to her to make the decision. Her grandmother is her guardian and the decision is hers and the board’s. Not yours and not a fifteen-year-old girl’s.”

“I promised her I wouldn’t let it happen to her.”

Charlotte frowned. “That was very foolish. Now she’ll never have faith in a social worker again.”

“Well, she
will
if I can stop it. And there’s something else going on.”

“Davison Gardiner,” she said wearily, catching me by surprise. “Sit down, will you?”

I made no move toward my chair. “How do you know?” I asked.

“Because he called me first thing this morning. He told me you’re making accusations about him. He called you a ‘troublemaker,’ and I tend to agree.”

“Eli Jordan was very close to Mary Ella and I believe him.”

“What really concerns me regarding Mary Ella is that you missed her clinical depression,” Charlotte said. “I blame myself for that. You only had three days of training and no background for this sort of work at all.”

“What background did Paula have?” I snapped, knowing I should control myself but I was out of patience. “Secretary of her Junior League?”

Charlotte held up her hand like a warning. “Before you say anything else, Jane, I need to tell you that we’re letting you go.”

“Letting me … what do you mean? You mean you’re
firing
me?”

She nodded. “I discussed it with Fred and he completely agrees.”

“Because … why? Because I care too much?”

“Where do I begin?” she said. “I can’t count the number of department regulations you’ve chosen to disregard. We should have let you go right after the beach incident, but I guess our need for one more body in the office clouded our judgment.” She frowned up at me. “You get far too personally involved, Jane. It’s not good for you
or
your clients. You have no objectivity.”

“Who’ll take over my cases?” I asked. If it was Gayle, I could reason with her. Explain to her about Ivy.

“Paula will have the Harts, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh no,” I said. “Please give Gayle the Harts and the Jordans.”

“This is exactly what I mean.” She pounded the arm of her chair sharply with her fist. “You can’t have favorites. We’re all human, of course, but you’ve neglected other cases to deal with these families, and—”

“Who? Who have I neglected?” I was getting angrier by the minute.

“I’m trying to control my temper, Jane,” Charlotte said, “but I’m
furious
that you would approach Davison Gardiner on your own without discussing it with me first. You could set us up for a lawsuit.”

“He’s the one who should be sued.”

“Well, I’m sure Paula will look into your concerns about him, and if she feels there’s any merit to them, she’ll go through the proper channels.”

Which I, clearly, had not done.

“Don’t you have to give me two weeks’ notice?” I asked.

“We’ll pay you for the two weeks.”

Was she telling me I had to leave now?
Today?
I walked across the room and sank into my chair. “There must be a way to stop the petition,” I said, more to myself than to her.

“Ann saw Ivy early this morning and Winona Hart told her that Ivy may have had a couple of seizures in the last few days. Plus Ann thinks she’s going to deliver early, so she’s making arrangements to admit her to the hospital this afternoon. I think that’s the best and safest place for her until she delivers.”

Oh my God. Once she was in the hospital, they wouldn’t let her go until she’d had her baby and the surgery. And I wouldn’t even be able to talk to her. I was letting her down in the worst way.

“But I’m the one who put the material together for the petition,” I argued. “I should be able to withdraw it.”

“I did the early work on it, Jane, and Fred’s signature is on it. Mary Ella’s suicide just adds credibility to the instability of that family, you must see that, don’t you?” She leaned toward me, trying to get me to look her in the eye.

I complied, unhappily.

“Remember what I told you about how you should decide these cases?” she asked. “You ask yourself what chance a child would have growing up in that household.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want the power to make that decision,” I said quietly.

“That’s why I’m taking it away from you.” She turned back to her desk, and I guessed she was finished with me.

Neither of us spoke as I emptied the few personal items from my desk drawers and put them in my briefcase. When I was finished, I stood up and walked to the door.

“Jane,” she said, as I reached for the knob.

I looked down at her.

“You’re a very good person,” she said. “Just not a very good social worker.”

46

Ivy

“You sit,” Nonnie said to me when I started to make us tomato sandwiches for dinner. She took the knife out of my hand and pointed to one of the chairs. She wouldn’t hardly let me breathe since Nurse Ann left that morning, telling me I’d have another fit if I lifted a finger. I did what she said, moving around the house slow and careful because I didn’t want to go in no hospital. Mary Ella went in the hospital and came out cut open and ruined. I needed Mrs. Forrester to stop that operation.

“I’m okay,” I said, but I sat down like she told me.

Nonnie sliced the tomato real thick, the way we both liked it. “If she puts you in the hospital,” she said, “I’m gonna be all alone.”

“I won’t go,” I said.

“She said you have to, or that baby might come too early.” She got the jar of Duke’s out of the refrigerator. “I don’t know what to do, Ivy,” she said. “When that pee turned orange this morning … well, I imagine the good Lord is trying to tell me something.”

“Like what?”

She spread the mayonnaise near as thick as the tomatoes on the top slice of bread. “Maybe punishing me for not raising you girls up right or something.”

Nonnie hadn’t been herself since Mary Ella passed. It scared me, her sounding lost like she did.

“It’ll be okay,” I said. “But you got to be better about what you eat.” I wasn’t sure the tomato sandwich was exactly right for her.

“Nurse Ann tells me all the things I
can’t
eat and not a blessed thing about what I
can.
” Nonnie put the sandwiches on two plates and sliced them into halves. “I’m tired, Ivy,” she said, handing me one of the plates. “Your daddy would be right unhappy with me to see how bad I took care of you girls.” She sat down across from me with her own sandwich, and tears was sitting above her bottom eyelashes. I wished I could do something to keep them from spilling out.
“Mary Ella.”
She shook her head, staring into space.
“Mary Ella.”

This was a side to Nonnie I never seen before. This weak, soft side. I knew all of a sudden this was the
real
Nonnie. It got covered up by her yelling and hitting, and it scared me more than anything to know she wasn’t as tough as she seemed. I needed somebody in my life to be strong.

“Ain’t none of it your fault, Nonnie,” I said, though some of it truly was. Wouldn’t do no good to point that out to her, though.

I ate a bite of my sandwich, but Nonnie was raising her head high, trying to look out the window. She stood up and grabbed her cane.

“Mrs. Forrester’s here,” she said, wiping her eyes.

Oh no. I didn’t know whether this was good news or bad. I got to my feet and pulled open the door. “Did you stop it?” I hollered. “The operation?”

She climbed the porch steps, out of breath and red in the face, and I wanted to run into her arms at the same time I wanted to punch her. I didn’t trust her one bit, but she was all I had.

“You best stay away from here,” Nonnie said to her. “You cause a stir wherever you go.”

“Ivy.” She was so winded, I guessed she’d run all the way from her car. “Come with me. Ann … Nurse Ann’s coming to take you to the hospital. If you go there, they’ll sterilize you. I wasn’t able to stop the petition—the order—”

“You said you would!”

“I know, but they fired me. Now I have no authority to do anything.” She looked at Nonnie. “Please let her come with me. She doesn’t want that surgery. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get it, but you have to promise me you won’t tell that I took her.”

Nonnie’s eyes bugged out of her head. “You’re one crazy girl,” she said to her.

I didn’t know what to do. How could I believe her? “Maybe
you’re
the one taking me to get the operation,” I said.

She shook her head, a sad look on her face. “I want to keep you safe,” she said. “My husband’s out of town. I know you’re supposed to take it easy. Rest. You can do that at my house for a few days while I get in touch with a lawyer I know. I’m pretty sure he can help you.”

I looked at Nonnie. Her face was so tired. She was fed up with everything, including living.

“Go with her,” she said. “I’ll say you run off.”

I couldn’t say nothing right away, I was so shocked. “I can’t leave you here alone,” I said. And I couldn’t leave Henry Allen. At least staying here, I had a chance of seeing him. If I went to Mrs. Forrester’s house, how would he find me if he got the money for us to go to California?

“I’ll be all right.” Nonnie looked at Mrs. Forrester. “When’s Nurse Ann coming?” she asked her.

“Sometime this afternoon.”

Nonnie reached in the cupboard where we keep the paper grocery bags and handed me one. “Put your things in here and go,” she said. “Hurry now!”

I couldn’t believe Nonnie was telling me to go.
Pushing
me to go. And as I threw my underwear and one of Nonnie’s old dresses and my transistor radio into the bag, I wondered if they was in on it together, all three of them. Nurse Ann and Mrs. Forrester and Nonnie. But I had to pick one person to trust, and I guessed that was going to have to be the lady who took me to the beach and told Mary Ella the truth and cared enough to ask me questions about my daddy.

*   *   *

I didn’t say much in the car. We drove down the lane to get to Deaf Mule Road and I guessed she went that way so we didn’t have to go past the Gardiners’ house. She didn’t want nobody to see her car.

I leaned against the car door. If we pulled up someplace that looked like a hospital, I’d get out and run, even if the car was still moving. Where I’d run to, I didn’t know, but I’d figure that out later. I should of somehow got word to Lita to tell Henry Allen that I’d be back when I could. When it was safe. But there wasn’t no time for that.

We rode quietly for a pretty long while, me watching the whole time for a hospital. After a while, Mrs. Forrester looked over at me.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Do you feel all right?”

“Well”—I leaned right up against the door—“I don’t trust you far as I can throw you.”

“I don’t blame you.” She smiled but it wasn’t much of one. “But you’re going to have to trust me,” she said. “Please believe me, I’m on your side. I feel strongly that you have the right to decide if you should be sterilized or not. It might turn out to be the right choice for you, because of the epilepsy or because … just because. But I don’t like that the choice has been taken away from you.”

“Like they done to Mary Ella.”

“Mary Ella was a different case,” she said.

I watched her face. She looked angry and not at me. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “Now listen. Please. Like I said, my husband is out of town but my maid is at the house, so—”

“You got a maid?”

“I do.” We came to a red light and she stopped and looked over at me. “You’ll stay in the car while I pay her and tell her to take a few days off.” She bit her lip and I could tell she hadn’t thought none of this through very well. When she started talking again it was more like she was talking to herself. “I’ll pay her for a few days,” she said, driving the car again. “Paid vacation. I’ll tell her I don’t need her as much while Robert’s gone.” She looked at me for a second. “Then I’ll call the lawyer I know. He’ll help you.” She gave a little laugh. “He’ll have to help
both
of us because I’ll be in a
lot
of trouble for what I’m doing.” She pressed her hand to her cheek. “I can’t believe I’m doing it.”

“Doing what?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. The important thing for you to do … your
job
right now … is to rest. That’s why Ann wanted you in the hospital. She’s afraid you’ll deliver early. So when we get to my house, you’ll just sit with your feet up and let me wait on you.”

“Wait on me?” Either she was crazier than my mama, or she was telling me the truth about going to her house and calling the lawyer. Either way, I stopped worrying she was taking me to a hospital.

“Yes.” She sort of smiled again. She reached over and put her cool hand on my arm. “I’ll wait on you.”

“Nobody ever waited on me in my life,” I said, and I started loving her again.

47

Jane

“You live
here
?” Ivy’s eyes were huge as I pulled into my driveway. I could only imagine how my house looked to her. Huge. Sparkling clean yellow paint. White trim. A broad porch with hanging ferns and white rockers. My garage alone was larger than her house.