Full Circle (22 page)

Josie looked surprised. "Why do we need to have a fight? Are you planning on doing something stupid?"

"I already did," he said shrugging. "I have to leave you this evening and probably won't be back until after eleven or later."

"Where are you going?"

"I have a foster-parenting class in Holbart from seven until ten."

Josie's eyes turned soft. "Thank you."

"Well, if we're going to take on Alex full time, I have to get prepared. It takes twenty-seven hours of in-class parenting sessions. I already filled out all the paperwork and signed off on the criminal- and background-investigation packages. I have to be certified for CPR in Kiowa County, although that shouldn't be a problem since I have instructor certification through the Navy. When I called in for the available dates for CPR testing and got to talking to the guy, he asked if I would be interested in teaching some classes."

"Jack, if the termination of parental rights goes through, this won't be necessary," Josie warned. "The adoption criterion is slightly different."

"It can't hurt and proves I'm serious. Before you go all gooey-eyed on me, you'd better hear the rest."

"What's the rest?" Josie asked.

"I'm not leaving you alone tonight," Jack said. "Buck's coming over."

"No!" Josie exploded.

"Yes!" Jack said calmly.

"You have no right!" Josie yelled, snatching a vase off the table.

"Before you throw that, think it through," Jack warned. "With only one good eye your perception is going to be way off and if you don't knock me out flat, I'll be busting your ass for throwing it."

"I do not want Buck here!" Josie yelled, but she put the vase back on the table.

"I have a right to protect you, Josie. Too many weird things are going on, and I'm not leaving you here alone," Jack said. "Georgina is on-call if you need some help with your personal business like going to the bathroom. Buck will be here at six. You need to hear him out, and you need to try to listen. You want to adopt Alex, which is a fine thing, but whether you acknowledge it or not, Buck comes with the package. He's your father, and you need at least to try to hear him out. He found you again and did not takeoff for the hills. He's still here, and he wants to know you. Buck may not be guiltless in your parents' break-up, but he wasn't the one who dumped you. Your mother did the dumping and running, and you need to come to terms with that. You can't take on a kid with as many issues as Alex and be so rigid. I can't know what you felt like as a kid, Josie, but I saw how much you needed someone, anyone. I saw how you acted out. You can hide in your room or face him head on, but reach a compromise of some kind, for your sake as much as for Alex. You can't teach tolerance and forgiveness if you don't practice it yourself."

"Oh, you're a big one to preach at me," Josie snapped. "Where was all your tolerance with Big Cal and Amos?"

"It wasn't there," Jack said honestly. "And now they are both gone and I wish to hell I had been there. At least for my dad. If you don't think I live with the guilt over that, you're wrong, because I do. I don't regret my actions with Amos, but I should have reached out to my Dad. It's too late now."

It was nearly six when she heard male voices, so she knew Buck was downstairs. She did hide in her room for a while, but she had to admit she was acting like a child. She went downstairs, and Buck snapped off the television and stood up.

"I promised Jack I'd look out for you tonight, but if you want me to wait on the porch, I will," Buck said.

"Sit down," Josie said, as she sat across from him. "Where the hell were you for thirty years, Buck?"

"Twenty-eight years and four months," Buck corrected. "The last time I laid eyes on you, you were barely three years old. The next time I saw you was last year when your picture showed up in the Washington Times. It wasn't even a good picture, but I recognized you because you're a look-a-like for your mother. You got her good looks."

He took his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a small picture along with a folded newspaper clipping. "This is the only photo I managed to keep. We took it before I shipped out to Grenada in 1983. I had more, but somewhere along the line during one of my transfers, the rest came up missing. This is the photo that was used on all the services for missing children. It was on milk cartons in Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma. I guess it wasn't a good enough picture. Your hair was curly in that picture. Your hair was normally as straight as a board, still is, but Sue Ann curled it all the time. She wanted you to have curly hair.

"I took emergency leave when I came back from Grenada and hunted everywhere for you. I came here to Rawlings and talked to Mason. I talked to the neighbors too, but no one had seen you. I wasn't coming up with anything and was running out of time. The choices were either going AWOL and spending some time in jail or go back to my unit. I decided to serve my time in the Army. At least with the Army, I got thirty days leave a year, time I used to search for you. My orders took me to Japan, Greenland and Alaska for some long assignments. Every time I got leave, I came back to the States to look for you, but I never found a trace. I hooked up with a private detective for a while, but he wasn't finding anything, so I figured he was playing me for a fool."

"Sue Ann dumped me on Mason when I was seven," Josie said flatly. "She pulled the old 'I'm going out for cigarettes' trick and never came back."

"It must have been rough on you," Buck said.

"Rough?" Josie snorted. "I was seven and she dumped me with a sixty-two-year-old man who emptied a fifth of gin a day, two if he could get his hands on enough money. Oh, he tried, I have to give him some credit, but he was an alcoholic. He made sure I had food to eat; he kept the utilities on and made sure I went to school most of the time, but he wasn't exactly what I'd call parent material. I quit looking for Momma to come back a long time ago. I quit looking for you to come back a long time before that."

"I didn't," Buck said taking a deep breath.

"Didn't what?" Josie demanded.

"Quit looking," Buck said carefully, putting the pictures back in his wallet. "I never quit looking. I never stopped hoping. I kept you on my military insurance until you turned eighteen. I paid a voluntary allotment in your name for twenty-six years until I retired last year. I had it setup for automatic deposit to a bank in Killeen, Texas. That's where we were living when I first shipped out.

"The account is still there in your name any time you want to pick it up. It's well over a hundred thousand dollars, and it's yours. I know you don't need it, but the account is there, if you ever want to use it for something. After Sue Ann disappeared, I figured sooner or later she'd come after me for money, alimony, child support, or hit me up for cash, but she never did. I hoped maybe you'd come looking for me at some point. I couldn't find you, but you knew I was in the Army. You didn't have any way of knowing I'd stayed in and become a lifer, but you could have traced me. I always hoped you would come looking for me to pay for your college or a wedding. I owed you that at least, but you never did." Tears were running down the man's craggy face.

"I know you don't believe me, but I loved you from the first moment I saw you in that hospital nursery crib. Up until I held you, it wasn't real to me. I was the one who named you Adelia Josie Marshall after my great grandma. Sue Ann wanted to name you Wanda Corrine.

"The truth is, Josie, I didn't love Sue Ann when I married her. I was just another horny youngster out for a good time with a willing girl. When she said she was pregnant, and it was mine, I did the right thing by her. I married her right away because it was what she wanted, and I wanted to do the right thing. I think she married me to get away from her parents and because she wanted to be married like all her girlfriends. Sue Ann hated being a military wife. Oh, she liked my paycheck well enough, and she was fine staying home taking care of you, but she wasn't happy about living on base or constantly moving around when I was reassigned. Military life isn't for some women, and it wasn't a good fit for her. Right before I got my orders for Grenada, she was talking about wanting me to leave the Army. I tried to tell her I couldn't, but she wouldn't listen. The Army was our way out of poverty, and I didn't have anything else. After Sue Ann took off with you, I still didn't have anything else. That's probably why I stayed in and made a career of it. I didn't have anything else."

Josie closed the door behind Buck and leaned against it. She hadn't made any promises to him except one. She'd give him a chance.

They were both talked out—his viewpoint, her viewpoint. There were a lot of years to span, and neither understanding nor forgiveness was going to happen in a single meeting.

Buck was sitting in his truck when Jack pulled up, but he didn't attempt to get out. He merely waved, started his engine and drove off. Jack assumed that meant Josie had not let him in the house. He checked the security system on his way through the house and headed upstairs. Josie was not in her bedroom, and he hadn't seen her downstairs when he'd come through.

"Josie!"

"In here."

Jack followed the voice, "Where?"

"Last bedroom on the right," Josie called.

Jack flipped on a single overhead light in a small dark room and looked around at a jumble of detritus stacked in boxes. The patched walls showed where new electrical wiring had been installed, but no other renovations had been done to the room. He had not seen any old stuff in any of the other empty rooms except the library.

"Josie?"

"Over here, walk toward the dormer window," she instructed.

Jack followed and saw her sitting inside a little doorway with only a flashlight for light. He knelt down to see a little space back under the eaves stacked with books, comic books, toys and other things. There were shoeboxes full of old nail-polish bottles and costume jewelry, and a box of cheap plastic horses, cowboys and Indians.

"What's all this?"

"This was my room when I was a little girl," Josie said, her voice breaking. "This was my hidey-hole where I would come when Uncle Mason was crazy drunk or when I wanted to hide because I was in trouble." She gave him a one-eyed teary look. "I spent a lot of time hiding in here."

Jack squatted down on the floor in front of the small doorway, took Josie's hand and helped her crawl out. He pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her as she laid her head against his chest.

"This was the only room where I didn't load everything into the dumpster. I couldn't. My childhood is in this room, most of it hidden away in that little hidey-hole. Maybe I need some counseling. I'm hanging onto garbage that represents lousy childhood memories."

"We all have to hang onto something," Jack said. "Did you talk to Buck this evening?"

"I let him talk," Josie said.

"Is that a good thing or bad thing?"

"Good, maybe. It's too soon to tell. You got what you wanted. I listened. He shattered a lot of my childhood fantasies but replaced them with solid facts. I can see his side now. I still don't believe he looked hard enough, but I believe he tried—some. After Buck left tonight, I called Mrs. Maxwell who lives on the corner lot in that big yellow house. She's lived there for forty some years. I asked her if anyone ever came around asking questions about me when I was little. She's old, but she remembers everything. Apparently, my mother went around to all the neighbors telling them she brought me here because my father was a cruel man, and she had to run away to protect herself and me. When Buck came around asking questions, Uncle Mason would banish me to my room, and everyone would lie. They thought they were protecting me. Why would she have done that? Buck doesn't have a record of any kind of abuse, the man's never been arrested for anything. I know because I had him investigated.

"He's not going to be my bosom buddy, Jack, but I'll give him a fair shot. It may not have been his fault, but I still think he could have tried harder. I won't exclude him if you want him to hang around."

"I like him, so does Alex, so yeah, I'd like him to hang around," Jack said. "How are you feeling?"

"Not good enough for a movie marathon, but good enough for a bowl of ice cream before going to bed," Josie said. "How did your class go?"

"Intense," Jack admitted. "The instructor said tonight was our introduction into insanity. She said if we were willing to stick it out and learn to understand what these kids need from us, that it was worth the journey. The things she talked about made me realize my childhood was charmed compared to what some of these kids have survived. It sure put my petty gripes in the toilet."

Josie kissed him. "You have the right to your feelings, like everyone else including me. I think the idea is to keep them in perspective. Thanks for reminding me of that tonight with Buck."