Nine Lives (13 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Reaping What We Sow

Juliet

No matter how many times I look at it, the message is the same. I have no choice but to go to court and testify in the neglect trial against Heather Nelson. It doesn’t matter that I’ve submitted my letter of resignation. It doesn’t matter that Faith made an official statement to police, taking it all back. The two hours of recordings of her explaining exactly why she and Laina lied in my purse mean nothing at all. Instead, I have to go in there and take the stand to help a system I no longer believe in. I hate this.

I’m trying to frame this as an opportunity to finally get the truth out, once and for all. I’m going to find a way to slip it in there that the girls are recanting their stories—even if it means I’m held in contempt. I want the judge to hear it. The state won’t be in any rush to say they were wrong about Tom, and he’s probably looking at another year before his appeal ever sees the judge’s desk. A year of his life stolen away, for what?

If Heather’s found in neglect, she could lose physical custody of Mary and Jeremiah. Sure, it would be temporary. It takes the state at least a year to pull a parent’s rights. But what damage would be done in that year, while the two youngest Nelsons tried to survive the foster system? I refuse to see it happen.

Oliver meows at me to play while I scan copies of my subpoena into the Nelson case file. I tell myself this will be a last chance to help a family I’ve grown to love. I’m twenty-nine with no life of my own. I’ve surrendered my twenties to helping much less deserving families than this and am determined to get a new start for myself. I open my laptop and review my law school application before finally hitting send. I know I’ll get in. I graduated from both undergrad and grad schools at the top of my class. Learning has never been an issue for me. Learning lessons? Well, that’s an entirely different story.

With only two more business days as an official social worker before my resignation takes effect, I make one last “not-so-official” business call. I arrange an appointment to meet with Harley McNeill. I haven’t seen her in six months. It’s been even longer than that since we closed her case after her successful transition into her grandmother’s home. I wonder how she’s doing, and hearing her name come up lately with Faith and Heather has me a little concerned. Technically, because her case is closed, I shouldn’t be following up. Ask me if I care. I refuse to follow rules in a system that doesn’t honor the same rules it enforces.

Harley’s happy to hear from me, and we agree to meet for lunch at Applebee’s the next day. She’s excited to show off her new license and the car she saved up for bagging groceries for nine dollars an hour. I’m delighted to hear her news and tell her how proud I am of her before hanging up. I play with Oliver, teasing him with a laser light beam on the wall that he never seems to tire of before finally calling it a night. I’m asleep by 8:15.

***

Harley looks like she’s gained twenty pounds since I last saw her. Once sunken in like soggy mole holes, her cheeks are now rosy and plump and her smile is wider than the ocean. It’s one of my favorite things about my job—something I’ll miss—to see a kid I once couldn’t pay to smile beaming like this. I hope that someday Laina and Faith can smile like this. That they can get fresh starts and finally find peace.

She bounces—not walks—to the booth I’m waiting in, in the back, near an autographed Giants’ poster.

“Juliet! Hi! I’m so excited to see you!” she says, sliding into her side of the booth.

I return her greeting and explain—again—that I’ve missed her and wanted to be sure she’s okay. I tell her about my plan to resign and begin a new career as a family lawyer. She fills me in on her new school, friends, and her own plans to go to college at NYU. A waitress with too much make-up and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen comes to take our order. She reminds me of Faith. I remind myself that I can’t talk about Faith and Laina with Harley. That’s just over the line. I wonder if she’s heard Faith’s news or if they still talk at all.

“…So, yeah, I think things are going to be okay. I love my new therapist, and I’m making pretty good progress,” she says. She looks at the menu and then right back up. “Oh! I didn’t tell you, I got a letter from my sperm donor.”

I try not to laugh, fully aware of Harley’s name for her father and perpetrator—Todd McNeill. “Oh? From the prison?”

She nods, slurping on her lemonade through a straw. For a second, I think she’s going to poke her eye out. I resist the urge to take her straw away from her. When you spend all day, every day, trying to protect kids, you can go a little overboard sometimes. “Yup. It was really weird.”

I want to ask her what the letter said, but Harley’s not a kid you push. She’ll clam right up. For now, it’s just nice to see her smiling. “I bet it was.”

“He says he’s found Jesus or something. He said he was sorry. Whatever.” She shrugs. “So, anyway, I’m petitioning to graduate early. I have basically enough credits to graduate this year if I take an extra online class. I just wanna get out of here, ya know? Be free. Start over. Something like that.”

It’s not lost on me that I’ve heard the very same words from Laina and Faith more times than I care to count. Their words have burrowed into my brain like worms, leaving deep tracks I’ll never be able to fully erase. Such different paths, they took, three teenage girls, to get to the very same place. Only, Harley really is a survivor. Later, I will try to figure out what made the difference. Now, my attention is on the rare success story in front of me. It feels good. “That’s incredible, Harley. I always knew you were smart. I’m so impressed! What does your grandmother think of this plan?”

“Well, I mean, she’s gonna miss me, but I think it takes a lot out of her, having me in the house. She worries. She’s old, you know? She needs to be able to get back to her TV shows and not worrying about what I’m up to.”

I laugh, picturing my own grandmother barking about the new host of The Price Is Right.

We are halfway through a spinach dip appetizer when I ask Harley about friends at her new school.

“Oh, friends? I don’t really have any. Nothing to worry about there. I’m so busy with studying and things that I just don’t have a lot of time. I’m not even doing band or guitar now. I need to focus on graduating and my job,” she says. “There will be plenty of time for a social life in college.”

“I totally get that, but you need to be a kid too,” I say. “Don’t be like me and get so wrapped up in your goals that you forget to have fun. That’s a mistake I made at your age.”

“Yeah, but you are doing amazing things. You helped me and now you’re gonna help kids with the law stuff. I want to be like that. Successful, you know?”

I look down at my plate, wishing she was a little older, so I could be more frank with her. “It gets lonely sometimes. That’s all. Do you have any friends your age?”

“Well, I’m still talking to Faith—the sister of that girl in my music class, Laina. Remember her? She keeps me busy, I guess. I mean, she has a lot of stuff going on.”

Shit. I am an idiot. I basically ripped open this can of worms. Stay cool. “Well, that’s good. That’s something, right?”

Harley rolls her eyes. “I guess. I mean, she’s fourteen, and she’s pregnant. She’s trying to say it’s some guy’s. Not her boyfriend. Her sister’s boyfriend or something. Yeah. Right. Like I believe her. She lied about her father. I feel bad for her but I don’t get why she does this crap. I told her to have an abortion and start over. Forget about boys. She won’t listen. Can you imagine being fourteen and having a kid? Not me. No way.”

I use my own straw as a distraction now, buying me time to figure out how to respond. Does she think Slash is the father? But how could he be? She said he never touched her. Does this mean Slash did something more than kiss her? Or is this just another lie, this time to protect Hunter? “Wow. Fourteen is definitely young. She’s lucky to have someone like you to talk to.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s hard though, ya know? All I can think about is how her and Laina lied and all that. I can’t imagine making that kind of stuff up. When it really happens to you it’s not a joke, and it’s not like a toy to play with or use against people. I just don’t get them. I’m trying to be Faith’s friend. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Laina though. She knew exactly what she was doing. Faith just went along with it. Probably how she got pregnant too. Sad. They need to go on a talk show or something,” Harley says. “So, yeah. In college, I’ll get new friends who make more sense. For now, I’m just doing everything I can to get these credits done.”

Driving home, I’m tempted to go to the office and rescind my resignation. Harley’s words won’t leave me, and I feel responsible for not making Heather follow through with the report on Slash. I remind myself that I’ll still see Heather and Faith in the morning. I’ll be able to do any last minute damage control then. Until then, I need to just keep going forward with my own plans and try not to worry too much. I have my own life and my own problems to think about. Heather’s capable. Heather can do this. Yet I can’t stop shivering and I’m not sure why.

The thought that Slash may have really hurt Faith leaves me feeling colder than a kiss from an in-law. I need to get home, fast, to Oliver, where things make sense. I’m flat out of Xanax and can’t get more for another two weeks. Will things ever make sense?

Chapter Eighteen

Armageddon

Heather

The clock on my dashboard has me nervous. I can’t be late today. But I’ve waited for a conversation like this for more than a year . Somehow, now that it’s here, I don’t feel how I expected to.

“I can’t just sit here on the side of the road talking to you. Laina, I’ve got to be at court in twenty minutes. I was supposed to meet the lawyer ten minutes ago. We can talk about this later,” I say, trying not to hang up on her. She’s still my kid.

“But you don’t understand. They are like mean here! Don’t you remember that girl who killed herself? Do you want that to be me, Mom? I mean, I’m sorry I did all the shit I did. I’m sorry! We will deal with Dad’s rules. We’ll get him out and we can all go back to normal. I’ll help Faith with her kid. I’ll do whatever you need. You’ve got to get me out of here, Mom,” Laina begs. “You know I can make Faith do whatever I want her to. I can fix everything. I just need to get out of here, ya know? You’ve gotta help me, Mom. I’ll dump Tyler, I swear! He obviously doesn’t want me. He won’t even take my calls. You were right about that.”

“Look, Laina, we’re never going to be a normal anything if I lose custody of Mary and Jeremiah. When can you call back? How often can you use the phone?”

“Only once a day! That’s why you have to do something now. Like, go to court, make sure that you get to keep them, and then come down here, Mom. Tell them it’s a mistake and that I’ll be good this time. Tell them you will help me or something. I can go back on house arrest. Tell them whatever they want to hear.”

“I’ll think about it, Laina. I need to go. If I don’t see you today, call me back tomorrow,” I say, secretly pleased that the power is finally in my hands. I’ll have to go to confession for it, but it still feels good.

We finally say goodbye, and I turn off my ignition. I try not to cry as I grab the pile of paperwork—financial affidavits, another DCYF social study, medical records, and Tom’s case history—and head toward the court, now like a second home. I smile at the bailiff, who waves me by as I fly through the metal detector with ease. I know better than to wear jewelry to court now. I’ve been stopped and had to deal with the detection wand too many times. Even my wedding bands aren’t worth the hassle anymore.

I hop in the elevator, hit the number two, and ride to the second floor, family court. I spot my lawyer as soon as the elevator doors open and am checked in and waiting in a conference room like I was never late at all. Waiting for my lawyer to finish with another client, I spot Juliet coming out of the elevator. I wave to her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi! Crazy seeing you here. Again.”

Juliet smiles, waving her subpoena papers at me. Poor thing. How could I forget she has to be here for this crap too? God bless her. “I know. Go figure, right? How are you?”

“I’m good, surprisingly,” I say. “I mean, this whole thing is ridiculous, especially considering I just got off the phone with Laina, who is taking everything she ever said back and promising rainbows and unicorns if I just let her come home.”

“You definitely have had an action-packed month,” Juliet says.

I notice she’s not wearing her usual ID card on the lanyard around her neck and remember that she’s no longer working as a caseworker. “So have you! How’s retirement treating you?” I tease.

“Ha! I wish. I’m actually working two part-time jobs but just got into law school. So that’s the plan now,” she says.

I’m impressed, but also feel guilty. I wonder how much the girls and I had to do with her career change. I’m not sure I want to know. “That’s so great, good for you! Why do you even have to be here today if you aren’t on the case anymore? Can they do that?”

“Oh, Heather, Heather. Have you not learned? They can do whatever they want, my dear.”

I laugh. She has a point. I’m glad she’s here. Court always goes smoother with her in my corner. Normally, my older kids show up to support me too. Today, I told them not to bother. The neglect charge isn’t criminal, just civil. The worst that can happen today is another year with DCYF or placement for Jeremiah and Mary. My attorney has assured me that the latter won’t happen, especially with Laina out of the house and Faith likely following one way or another. “Do you have to testify?”

Juliet nods. “I think so. But don’t worry. I only say good things.” She smiles, pushing her determined jaw forward.

I wasn’t worried and I tell her so. “I’m really sorry you keep getting dragged into all this. Tom says you are an angel sent to watch over us. I just hope you know how much I appreciate you. When you first started coming, I was thinking, well, she’s nice enough. But what’s she really going to do to help? Now, I just rely on you more and more.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. That’s my job, or was. It’s been nice meeting parents I don’t want to strangle. People who actually care about their kids and are doing a good job,” she says.

I wonder if the job we’ve done has been good or if the DCYF workers have a point—Tom and I are just too strict. Maybe, if we hadn’t been so strict, the girls wouldn’t have rebelled the way they have. “You’re good for my ego,” I say.

I don’t ask Juliet to leave when I meet with my lawyer. She’s like family to me now, and I have nothing to hide from her. Juliet is sure to let my lawyer know the girls are both recanting their stories. But there’s nothing she can do about it. That’s a separate issue, she explains; a criminal one. I still don’t understand the system. She tells me to make sure Tom’s lawyer knows about the girls. Juliet says she’s already made a call. She says she has evidence for Tom’s lawyer, should he need it.

“That will be the equivalent to Armageddon to the state’s case if the judge lets those tapes into evidence,” my lawyer says.

Juliet and I laugh, like old friends.

The case itself goes smoothly. The judge lectures me on taking my responsibilities with Laina’s probation and house arrest more seriously. If and when she does return home before her eighteenth birthday, he says I should realize I have all eyes on me and this is not the time to make mistakes. He drops the charges, warning me I have one more chance to “prove yourself as a parent.” I want to scream, but simply smile. At this point, I don’t believe I have anything to prove to anyone, and that’s all that matters.

***

Driving home, I think about my one last chance. Sure, I could let Laina come home. I feel bad for her. I’m proud of her and her sister for finally doing the right thing and admitting their lies. But that doesn’t make the damage any less. If they even let Tom out, it will be at least a year. By then, we’ll have lost the family home and Faith’s baby will be here. Our entire world will be upside down. The judge is right, I finally decide. This is my one last chance. Our one last chance. I have to make that chance about Jeremiah and Mary now. I refuse to lose any more children. Laina has her own cross to bear, as does Faith. I’ll do my best to be there for them, but not at the risk or cost of my other kids.

There were two boys—men. Hunter and Tyler. Or maybe it was three, if you count Slash. And three girls, my girls. These men came into our lives and broke our family dream. Tom will say everything happens for a reason. He’ll say God will see us through this. Frankly? I’m tired of listening to Tom. It’s time I had my own voice too. To my three daughters, I say loudly, “Be careful what you lie for.” But it’s so much more than that. It’s “I love you” too. Perhaps Tom is right. God does have a plan, and it’s beginning to work. These past few months have taught me more than I cared to admit, until now.

Listening to my daughter beg for my help, to come home, and be free of a place that’s “mean,” brought things into perspective today. For months, caseworkers—even Juliet—tried to get me to see what was good about my daughters. My anger was so intense I could barely look at them. I could only see the evil in the deeds they’d done. The damage they’ve caused is everywhere. In two weeks, we move into a tiny low-income housing unit. In three, I get to share news with Tom that I’ve lost our home. But it’s okay. And here is why.

My daughters have taught me that, it’s true, I don’t need a husband to get me through the hard times. I have my faith. While it shakes, it’s always there. I have done my best as a mother, despite mistakes and some pretty big pitfalls. My reward is many children—even grandchildren—who love and respect me and care about our family. Are any of them perfect? No. But neither am I. We are all here for only a short time with things to learn. It’ll be a long time before holidays look the same for us, and that’s okay too. Those who show up will be those who honor all we’ve tried to do. My house and heart will never be empty—no matter how small.

Faith, Sadie, Laina? I don’t hate them. I’m not even angry anymore. I will never give up on them. They are learning too. I’m proud of Faith for embracing the change coming her way. A new life is never a bad thing, even when it’s unplanned and least expected. No, her situation isn’t ideal. But neither was ours. Neither is ours. Simply put, life gets messy.

We thought we could protect them from our own mistakes. In doing so, we only made more mistakes. We didn’t give them the freedom to be their own people and have their own beliefs. Our need to keep them safe and never see them suffer created their suffering. I forgive myself and Tom for that, the way I’ve forgiven the girls. But as the saying goes, forgiveness is much different than forgetting.

Tomorrow, I’ll enroll Jeremiah and Mary in the public schools. I have no intention of asking Tom. There are some things, I’ve learned, I’m capable of handling myself. I want them to experience other people, beliefs, and make age-appropriate peer friends. By loosening the apron strings, they may not be as anxious to escape or get away when they get older. I want them to see the world for what it is—good and bad. I want them to be safe and protected but brave enough to take risks and know that their faith can pull them through anything. Letting them fly, as odd as it will feel at first, will help with this.

Next, I’ll figure out what to do for Faith. She’s going to need my help, and I can’t expect Hope to do a job I started. Hope needs to get back to the business of raising her own family. I pray she learns from my mistakes and doesn’t repeat them. I see myself in her, and it scares me. There’s no way I could allow Faith to move to Iowa knowing she could make allegations against David. I can’t stand to see another person with good intentions hurt.

As for Laina, I’m really not sure what I’ll do. There’s not much room at our new place. She might be better off exactly where she is. It’s something I’ll talk to Juliet about, when things calm down. For now, she needs time to learn to forgive too. That takes time. She needs to forgive us, her sisters, and most importantly, herself. Do I worry she will do something stupid? Of course. What mother would want their child miserable and locked away no matter what they’ve done? Not this one. It would surprise her—maybe even me—to know that my love for her really is unconditional. Love is the only thing I have left. The only absolute in my one, miniature life.

Before today, I would have skipped out of court and flown right to Tom’s lawyer’s office. I would have begged them to take the latest news, police statements and tapes, to the courthouse. I can hear myself asking how to speed up an appeal or running to my parents for more money to save him. Not now. I hate what’s happened, but I’m stronger now. I can do this—learn from my mistakes and do things the right way. Tom and I will be okay. The system will run its course. Now, I need to be sure that Mary and Jeremiah and Faith’s baby come out of this okay. I can’t let myself get distracted with drama or battling a system stacked against us. Tom is a big boy and can handle that himself. It’s not like either of us are going anywhere. After all, we still have so much to learn.