Finding Alana (13 page)

“Oh baby! Get in here. Bring that boy a yers in here too.”

I can’t help the beaming smile I give her as we step into the room. “Hello, my love,” I whisper as I bend down to hug her neck.

She whispers back, so that only I can hear her, “I see you found him.”

I pull back, surprised. “It’s him? The one you knew I would find.”

Her sweet face is bright with life and light when she says. “It is.”

I stand up fully and tug Justin toward her bed. “Justin, this is the incomparable Mrs. Irma.”

              I’ve had several meetings with DHS regarding Ethan. The lady assigned to work with me, Dinah, is very kind. She seems to be sympathetic to my situation. Although, she never gives anything away about what her decision will be. She’s very clear that until I can resolve the case that’s pending, there will be no decision about what can happen about Ethan. It’s been very painful for me, but she’s made me identify some family members who can either vouch for my character or would be willing to take Ethan.

              I named my mother and my aunt Sissy. Sissy used to spend a ton of time with me because she thought my mother was insane. In some ways, I think my mother always blamed Sissy for my wild streak. Sissy is a buxom red-haired, six-foot-tall ball of fire. She disagreed with the strict upbringing my parents gave me. She thought they should have allowed me to explore and experiment. In my own parenting, I think I used a happy mix of both styles. Ethan was only three the last time I saw him. Not much exploring and experimenting a child that age can do.

              Depending on what Dinah wants to know about me, she’ll get what she wants from one or the other. Although, their representations of my character could conflict. I pray not.

              Dinah has agreed to let me see Ethan under supervision. Today is the day! I’m up and dressed much earlier than I need to be. My legs won’t stop bouncing as I sit on the edge of the couch and watch the clock.

              Justin staggers into the living room, hungover from sleep. “Anxious?”

              “I’m so much more than anxious. Seeing him is everything. I don’t know if he’ll remember me. If he does remember me, does he still want me to be his mother? Has he given up on me? What do I do if he doesn’t want me anymore?”

              He takes a seat beside me and places his hand on my bouncing leg. “Stop. You’re making yourself crazy for nothing. He’s going to love you. You’re his mother. That’s a bond no one can break. No matter what. Hang on to that.”

              “What if he thinks I’m stupid or lame or whatever?”

              “Just be you. He’ll love you for who you are. Plus, aren’t all parents supposed to be lame and stupid?”

              I laugh. “I know. I’m so nervous.”

              “Do you want me to go with you?”

              I shake my head. “No. Thanks, though. I have to do this on my own. I have to reconnect with him on my own first. I just wish I knew how this will work out. I need Kent convicted and sentenced. I need my case resolved. I need to know Ethan wants me. All the stars have to align for me to have him back.”

              “The stars are aligning. All of this will be fine.”

              I grab his hand and squeeze. “I know. Are you sure you’re okay that I have a son? That our lives are going to change if I get him?”

              His smile is proud. “Not if. When. He’ll be yours again, and I’m totally okay with it. I’ll admit it kind of freaks me out, but in a good way.

              “I’m not even sure how you can be freaked out in a good way.”

              “I mean that this is a little person I can spend guy time with him. You know teaching him baseball and all that manly stuff. I mean, when you look at it the right way, it’s awesome. Are you sure you’re okay with me filling that kind of role for him?”

              I’m surprised by this question because it’s not something I’ve considered. I think for a moment. “Yeah. I’m good with it.” We sit in silence a little longer. “I’m really good with it,” I stare into Justin’s eyes when I say it. “One more thing. I wanted to say this when the stress was off so you would know how much I really mean it.”

“What is it,” he asks.

“I love you.”

              His face fills with light right before he leans down and kisses me. He wraps me up in his warm, strong arms, and it feels like he’s trying to infuse me with his strength and confidence. “I sincerely wish you would let me go with you. I don’t like you being out in the world alone,” he whispers against the top of my head as he kisses me there tenderly.

              I sigh. “I know. But you can’t be with me at all times. I can do this. I’ll stay out of trouble. Promise.”



              I arrive fifteen minutes early for my time with Ethan. Dinah meets me at the entrance, and takes me into her office.

              “There have been some developments in the unresolved business,” Dinah starts.

              “Okay.”

              She smiles. “I’ll give you the good news first. There was enough evidence against Kent from your statement and Kate’s account of her attack that he’s been, basically, forced into a guilty plea. The judge is sentencing him tomorrow. I spoke with your attorney, he said you were welcome to attend, but you don’t have to if you think it would be too much.”

              The air is forced out of my lungs. It’s everything I’ve been praying would happen in Kent’s case. “How many years is he looking at?” I ask timidly.

              “I don’t know, but it seems like it’s going to be a lot. Now, for the bad news.”

              I brace myself. “Give it to me.”

              She takes a deep breath. “Ethan’s foster parents have been concerned. He’s been somewhat violent with other children in the home. They asked that we have him evaluated by a psychologist. What we found out from of these sessions is disturbing. Are you ready for this?”

              I nod hesitantly as I knot my hands in my lap.

              “Kent was emotionally abusive to him. He threatened him with disownment or that he would give him away. Ethan has been effectively non-verbal except in session with the doctor. The only thing he’s told the doctor is you were dead. His dad told him that. When he meets you, it’s going to be a shock for him. The doctor has been laying the ground work for us to re-introduce you to him, but, I warn you, it may be rough.”

              Processing what she’s telling me is shattering. Kent didn’t lay a hand on him, but emotionally abused him. He berated him. A small, eight-year-old little boy. Of course he did. My emotions range from rage to guilt.

              “I did this,” I mutter as I wipe away tears.

              Dinah looks puzzled. “Ma’am?”

              I shake my head. “I’m to blame. I left him there. I knew what a monster Kent was, and I left him there to save my own ass.”

              She walks around her desk to take the seat next to me. “Alana, if you are going to fix any of this, you’re going to need to talk to someone. A psychologist. You’re just as damaged as Ethan, if not more so. You can’t expect this to be a quick reunion and that everything Kent did to both of you will magically disappear.”

              I swallow as guilt floods through me. “I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.”

              She smiles. “I knew that would be your answer. Your Aunt Sissy, knew it too. She told me no one deserved to have Ethan back more than you.”

              “I have to ask, did you call my mother?”

              She nods. “It didn’t go well. She said her daughter died five years ago and hung up on me.”

              I’m not surprised at all. “Can we see Ethan now?”



              Dinah leads me to a large room furnished like a comfortable living room, only there’s no TV. She explains that TV detracts from the necessary parental interactions. She leaves me alone while she goes to get Ethan. I walk over by the window and try to put my strong mask in place. The last thing he needs is to see his mother for the first time and she’s a mess.

              I hear the door behind me open and close. When I turn around, I see him. He’s taller, and his baby face is turning into a more firm, masculine version of my face. He stops barely inside the doorway, and turns to look at Dinah. He seems to be confused. Then after a few looks between Dinah and I he says, “That’s my mom!”

              My heart melts, and I can’t help crying all over again. I want him to take this at his own pace and not rush him. So I stand by the windows and study his bronzed brown hair and those green eyes. They are piercing. He’s slightly skinnier than I thought he’d be, but there’s absolutely no doubt he’s mine. The craving in my chest to hug him becomes too much, and I take a step toward him.

              “Hello, Ethan. Can I hug you?” I ask.

              He nods and runs toward me.

              I drop to my knees and absorb the impact of him hitting me full-force. All I can do is hold him and breathe in his scent. He has always had this slight Play-Doh smell about him, and he still has it. As I’m absorbing every possible detail of him, I feel him start to shudder. Then he takes in a breath, and I know he’s crying.

              I pull back to look at him, and he says, “You were dead. Daddy said you died. How are you here?”

              “Oh, baby, we have many things to talk about. All you need to know is I’m real, and I love you. We’ll be together all the time soon.”

              He turns to look at Dinah. “Do I have to go back to foster care? Can’t I go home with my mom now?”

              Dinah and I sit him down to explain that there a few things we have to take care of, but he can see me as often as he would like until that’s all take care of. He’s not happy, and when our visitation time is up, he cries. He doesn’t want me to leave him. His heartbreak echoes my own. I ask him to be patient and be nice to the other kids at foster care. He promises me and reluctantly leaves with Dinah.

              When he’s out of sight, I leave. The first thing I do in the car is call Mr. Rosa to ask about my case.

              “Alana, my darling,” he says. “We have a meeting with the district attorney tomorrow. I was about to call you.”

              I sigh, relieved. “Thank you. Have you hired an admin yet? You know, we can’t have a high-powered attorney like yourself making phone calls on your own.”

              He chuckles. “You are behind. Lots of news happening today. I met Kate, and she’s going to start for me next week!”

              “Fantastic! Give me all the details on this meeting.”

              He tells me where to be, reminds me he’ll do all the talking, and then we hang up.



              I pull up to Justin’s place as Kate and Cameron are loading Kate’s car with her suitcases.

              “Hey, what’s up?” I ask, getting out of the car.

              Kate hugs me. “The contractor called. We can move back in the house. Come on, I’ll help you pack up.”

              I hesitate as I feel like a weight has been dropped in my stomach. “Kate,” I start. “I can’t leave here. Not yet.”

              “What’s wrong? Of course you can, you need to come home with me.”

              I shake my head. “I think, for now, I want to stay right here with Justin. And then…” I swallow. I hadn’t thought about this until this moment.

When Ethan comes home, we’ll need our own place. I have to provide a life for him. Not that living with Kate would be a bad thing. We need a place that’s ours. This is a fresh start, a new beginning, for both of us. We need a life untouched by pain, hurt, death, and Kent. “Kate, I’m getting my son back. We’re going to have to find a place that’s just for us.”

              Kate nods. She doesn’t make me explain. She knows why I need to do this. I help her finish load the car, and she squeezes me extra hard right before she leaves. My heart swells because she will always be a sister to me.

              “Watch out!” I shout as I hear a box
thud
against the floor. I stick my head around the corner to see Cameron, red-faced, leaning against the wall, huffing. He’s just lugged a box of my books up the stairs and dropped them in front of the apartment door. “Oh, sorry, Cam. Don’t bust my books up dropping the boxes like that.”

              He glares.

              Justin glides lithely up the stairs with a box of linens and neatly shoves Cam with his shoulder when he passes. “You okay, buddy? Do we need to start working out again? Eating Kate’s food and being her slave day and night is not agreeing with your physical needs, man.”

              Cameron doesn’t laugh, only sulks down the steps to retrieve more boxes.

              Moving day hasn’t been a happy experience for me in a very long time. Today is different. Today marks the start of my happily ever after. Cameron and Justin are helping me settle in before I collect Ethan from foster care and bring him home for good.

We’ve had some amazing supervised visits. In the last month, they’ve been less supervised as Dinah made her decision that I could have him. Ethan’s done well with counseling. He wanted me to attend the sessions with him, and the psychologist thought that was a great idea. Together we’ve been working toward building a life that is healthy and happy.

I’m aware, more than Ethan is, that life won’t always be an episode of
Leave it to Beaver
. Those cheesy happy faces you see on TV are a façade, and I know it. But we have an opportunity to be together, and to try to overcome the darkness and demons that haunt our dreams. The dreams and nightmares are shifting. There’s less fear and more hope. For that, I’m thankful.

              Justin was disappointed when I told him that I didn’t want to live with him. He understands Ethan and I need this. We need to be a family first, and anyone else will have to work themselves in over time.

Building a bond and a trust with Ethan is my top priority. Further, Ethan needs to get settled into school. In an effort to control him, Kent had been “homeschooling.”.

This kept him from making friends outside of his dad, which partially explains his reluctance to be open with the psychologist at first. Plus, his lack of interaction with other kids explains his infrequent violent outbursts in foster care.

At eight years old, he didn’t know how to work and play with other children. All of which has gotten better with the right attention and guidance.

              Recently, Dinah and I took him to the school he’ll attend and had his competency in core subjects tested. He scored off the charts with reading, but barely third grade level for all other subjects. Still it was enough to enroll him with his proper age group. We also met with the counselor for his grade, and the teachers she recommended he be with for his first year of public school. They have all expressed commitments to watching out for him and understanding his background. His needs are different from that of other children his age. Together, I think we’ll be able to have a successful year. Initially, Ethan was scared of the school, and we worked through that together. He seems to be looking forward to recess the most!



              “Deep thoughts?” Justin whispers softly in my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind.

              I’m startled because I hadn’t realized I was frozen in my unpacking of the wineglasses. Lost in my own thoughts, Justin had the chance to sneak up on me. My answer is nothing more than a sound effect, “Mmhmm.”

              He hums in my ear before saying, “Cameron and Kate went home. We have everything unloaded.”

              Leaning back in his arms, I nuzzle under his chin, and drop a small kiss there. “So we’re alone?”

              “We are,” he growls in a low voice. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve been alone?” He plants kisses slowly from the top of my head, then behind my ear, and starts down my neck.

              Shivers run down my spine, and my skin turns into goosebumps. “I quit counting. I’m sorry it’s been so long.” My words are barely a mutter.

              Still trailing kisses across the back of my neck and onto my shoulders, he whispers, “
Shhhhh
. Let me seduce you.”

              I laugh. “I prefer to be wooed.”

              Frustrated now, he says, “If you would stop talking, I would woo you.”

              Turning, I lift my arms and wrap them around the back of his neck and whisper, “Woo me, baby,” before I kiss the tip of his nose then offer my mouth to him.



              We make love in my disheveled apartment all afternoon and fall asleep wrapped around each other in the middle of the living room floor. I’m startled awake by my cell phone. When I sit up, I’m disoriented. It feels like I’ve been asleep for a hundred years and have no concept of what a cell phone is. “Fuck!” I say to no one when I jump up and run to grab it, but whoever it was hung up. I quickly unlock it to see I’ve missed a call from Rhae. Immediately, I call back.

              “Hey! I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the phone fast enough.”

              Her answer is a sniffle. “Irma passed.”

              My breath catches in my throat, and my mind begins to spin. “What?”

              “We knew she didn’t have long. It happened this morning. She just didn’t wake up.”

              Tears are flowing down my cheeks, and I try to staunch the sound in my voice when I ask, “What do you need me to do?”

              Her answer is calm, “Nothing. Irma took care of her own arrangements. All we have to do is show up.”

              I smile. “That was her way. We’ll be there. Tell me when and where.”

              Two days later, Justin, Ethan and I are at Irma’s funeral. It’s a dichotomy of emotion as we are sad to have lost her, but her instructions were for her funeral to be a celebration. There are balloons and streamers everywhere.

The flowers are beautiful lilies selected by Irma to make it bright and cheerful. She always told me roses were for lovers and not for funerals. Rhae and Cade look exhausted, but are all smiles through their tears. The music is bright and ever-so-Irma. Her end is as big as her life was.

              The preacher she asked to speak seems to be a bit drunk. My suspicions are confirmed when he slurs his words. I don’t hear most of his sermon, but my ears perk up when he talks about how she helped him. How he was lost and wandering alone until he crossed paths with a woman of immense strength and vision.

Then he instructs us via letter from Irma, “Go forth and celebrate life. My life isn’t ending, it’s beginning. I’ve been waiting for the day when I would be with my husband again and feel his love once more. I’ve waited for the day I would meet my savior and have every question I’ve ever wondered answered.

“Don’t think for one minute I’ve given up watching over my babies. You are all my babies by blood and by heart. Rhae, I’m going to meet your mama. We have things to discuss, and I have a full update for her. Cade, you are the best of us. Take care of your sweet Rhae. Make her your bride already! Alana, my sweet girl. You have so much life ahead of you. There are so many things coming your way, and you will be great at handling all of them. Love that boy of yours.”

              My heart breaks with joy and fear at the words in her letter. I know there are so many more obstacles coming. But that’s life. A life I have to live. A life that is full of hope and possibility!
How cheesy.
I’ve never felt optimistic before, and it rather skeeves me out.

I escaped all charges in the incident with Kent and returned to work as if nothing ever happened. All around me are miracles. None of this should have happened the way that it did, yet it’s perfect that it happened.

The thing about getting through tough situations is that when you look back, you can see how things that seemed to be all wrong and a mess were really in the plan and had to happen so much better times would come.

              If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this crazy life I’ve lived, it’s that you have to embrace the bad to get to the good. And the good is pretty great.