Little Mercies (13 page)

Chapter 21

A
s I open my eyes it takes me a few moments to figure out where I am and what day it is. I look around and see the familiar artwork on the walls and hear the hum of an industrial-sized vacuum cleaner. Last night, after Kelly and I visited the law offices of Vitolo and Cooke I returned to the hospital. After checking in with Adam and saying good-night to Avery via cell phone, I found a waiting area with a television set and just sat, trying not to think. I must have fallen asleep. I check my watch, it’s six in the morning. Wednesday. Yesterday at this time, we were fast asleep in our own beds, oblivious to the nightmare that was to come. I text Adam, letting him know where I am and asking how Avery’s night went.

Five minutes later, Adam steps into the waiting area. He looks as tired as I feel, but he seems happy to see me and pulls me into a hug. “Did you stay here all night?” he asks, taking in my messy hair and day-old clothes.

I nod. “I just couldn’t leave,” I try to explain.

“Are Lucas and Leah with your mom?”

“Yeah, I’ll go see them in a bit. How was Avery’s night?” I ask.

“Fine, she slept pretty well. Probably better than I did.” Adam runs his hands across his eyes.

“I met with a lawyer last night,” I blurt out. I didn’t have the heart to tell him when we spoke in the night. He sounded so tired on the phone.

“That’s good, El,” he says. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to go with you.” He takes my hand in his.

“Kelly went with me. I think he’ll be good.” Kelly and I had spent thirty minutes with Ted Vitolo, and after only three minutes I was certain that he was just the right attorney to represent me. His expression didn’t falter once as I told my story.

“Clearly an accident,” he said. “Don’t talk to the press, don’t talk to the cops,” he advised.

“He’s the lawyer who got James Olmstead acquitted,” I confess, afraid to know what Adam will think of this.

“Good,” he says with vehemence. “He must be good if he got Olmstead off.” I look at my husband warily, trying to determine if there is any hidden animosity behind his words. But all I see is hope. “You hungry?” he asks.

I shake my head, “No, I’m okay. Did you get something to eat?”

“I will in a minute. Why don’t you go to your mom’s house, shower and change and check on the kids. We’ll be okay here for a little while.”

I shake my head. “I wish I didn’t have to leave,” I say.

“No offense, El,” my husband says with a teasing smile. “You are kind of a mess. Anyway Lucas and Leah are probably dying to see you.” He winces slightly at his choice of words but goes on. “You can get Avery’s yellow blanket and her Bunny Bear.”

Bunny Bear is Avery’s favorite toy. A plush stuffed bear dressed in bunny pajamas. Lucas dubbed him Bunny Bear and the name stuck. Avery drags him everywhere with her and, with a stomach-churning thought, I wonder if Bunny Bear is sitting in the back of the abandoned van amid shards of broken glass. I had forgotten about the van. “Okay,” I acquiesce reluctantly. I look at the clock on the wall. It’s still too early to go and see Lucas and Leah. I scan Adam’s face looking for any hint of worry.

“She really is doing okay right now. The doctor won’t be here for rounds for a few hours yet,” Adam assures me.

“I’ll run home first and get Avery’s things. Do you need anything?” I ask, and Adam shakes his head no. “Then I’ll go check on Leah and Lucas. You’ll call me if anything comes up?”

“Yep, we’ll be fine,” Adam says confidently. I lean into him and he hugs me tightly, kisses me on the cheek and pulls the set of keys for the truck from his pocket and hands them to me.

“Give Avery a kiss for me,” I tell him and, unsteadily, from exhaustion I imagine, I move through the quiet corridors of the hospital and make my way to the emergency room parking lot where Adam has parked the truck. The exit doors open and while the early morning air has cooled during the night, it is still heavy and hot. As I hoist myself up into the truck I try to decide whether to go back to the van to see if Bunny Bear is there or to go home first to shower and change. Bunny Bear wins. I can’t bear the thought of Avery’s favorite toy sitting abandoned on the floor of the van.

I slowly travel the same streets that the ambulance flew through to carry Avery to the hospital. The eastern sky is pearled pink and I pass a few early-morning joggers and pet owners walking their dogs before the heat of the day descends. As I once again enter Manda’s downtrodden neighborhood I can’t help wondering if she is okay. If the domestic drama that brought me to their doorstep ended not only with my daughter in the hospital but Manda, as well.

I turn onto Madison Street and can see that my van remains in the place where I parked it the day before. I move slowly past the van to assess the damage. The side door is windowless and there is a large dent in the door, but someone has taken the time to sweep the glass from the street. I pull in front of the van, put the truck into Park and step out onto the still-sleeping street. I pull open the door and I can already see that the entire van has been picked clean. No Bunny Bear on the floor and someone has taken Avery’s car seat. I move to the front of the van and open the passenger-side door. The CD player has been ripped from the dash and the stack of CDs that we stored in the center console is gone as is my stainless steel travel mug. I open the glove box and the maps, pens and pencils and the various odds and ends that find their way into the compartment are gone. Someone has even removed our insurance and registration information that we stored in a small envelope. But it’s Bunny Bear that I’m most concerned about. I don’t want to go back into that hospital without Avery’s stuffed bear. I return to the rear of the van and on hands and knees reach beneath the seats in hope that the toy was pushed aside during the upheaval. Nothing.

“Got your stuff right here,” a voice says from behind me, causing me to jump. I extract myself from the van to find Jade standing there holding a bulging plastic bag, Avery’s car seat sitting at her feet. “After the ambulance left, I took everything to my house for safekeeping. All your stuff would’ve all been stolen if we let it be overnight. Couldn’t do nothing about your CD player or hubcaps. Sorry.”

“Oh, Jade.” The words snag in my throat and tears spring to my eyes. I’ve been crying nonstop for the past twenty-four hours, but these at least are tears of gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for Avery.”

Jade briefly stiffens in my embrace. I am, after all, the social worker who took her son away from her, but almost immediately she relaxes and returns my hug. What a sight we must make: the social worker and the young woman who drank so much alcohol that she nearly died and in her inebriated state forgot that she had a two-week-old son, who nearly died in his crib from dehydration.

“Well,” Jade says, releasing me, crossing her arms and self-consciously looking down at her feet. “Anyone would have done the same. I just hope she’s going to be okay.”

“She’s in intensive care. I don’t think she would have made it if your neighbors didn’t get her out or if you weren’t there to do CPR.” I find myself getting choked up again, thinking about how Jade, once so lost and misguided, saved Avery’s life, pushed her own breath into my daughter’s lungs. I clear my throat and reach more deeply into the bag for Bunny Bear, find a long ear and tug.

Jade shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot and looks nervously up and down the street. I can tell she wants to say more.

“I’ll make sure someone comes to move the van,” I assure her. “I’m sorry. In all that’s been going on, I forgot about it.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not it.” Her face is grave. “You should know that some people are talking.” I nod. This is to be expected. “You know Lucy Pike?” Again I nod. I was the caseworker who recommended that Lucy’s children be removed from her care. “Lucy’s pissed. She’s telling anyone who will listen that you took her kids away from her when you should have been watching out for your own baby.”

“Oh,” is all I can eke out, but I feel my face redden with anger and embarrassment.

“I just thought you should know,” Jade says apologetically. “I know what happened with your daughter is...different.”

“Thanks,” I say and, wanting to change the subject, ask, “How are Krissie and Kylie. Is Manda okay?”

“The girls are okay. Manda was bust up pretty good. After you left, another ambulance came to take her to the hospital. It was crazy,” Jade exclaims, shaking her head at yesterday’s commotion. “Police hauled her boyfriend away and then that bitchy social worker came and took the girls away. You know the one I’m talking about?”

I do know who Jade is talking about. Ruth Johnson isn’t as bad as Jade makes her sound, but I understand why people might think she is cranky and difficult. She has been a social worker for over thirty years and has seen everything that can possibly be done to another human being. She is tough, she is hardened, but she is conscientious and possibly the best advocate a child in need could have. We are not exactly friends, do not converse beyond the scope of our professional life, but we share an office and, over the years, I have developed a respect for Ruth, though grudgingly. I’ve learned from her meticulousness and attention to detail. I know that Krissie and Kylie will be well taken care of.

“Thank you, again,” I say to Jade, and reach out for her hand. She takes mine and pulls me into a firm, brief hug.

“You take care of yourself,” she says. “And I’ll tell Lucy to mind her own business.” Jade’s dark brown eyes are filled with empathy.

“Thank you.” I am both grateful and humbled by Jade’s kindness. I haul Avery’s car seat and the bag filled with the contents of the van over to the truck. Once inside, my mind begins to whir with all that Jade has told me. I could lose my job, my social worker license. I could go to jail. But most of all I’m worried about losing my daughter. Nothing compares to the terror of knowing that Avery could die, could be permanently damaged.

Chapter 22

M
orning sun peeked from behind the bedroom window’s heavy blinds and, buried beneath piles of cotton sheets, blankets and a down comforter that felt like heaven against her skin, Jenny stretched her arms and legs luxuriously. She could lay here forever, she thought to herself. Back in Benton, in the places she and her father stayed, climate control was always a problem. In the winter, weak, ineffectual wafts or inconsistent blasts of hot or cold air would make the motel rooms unbearably cold or miserably hot.

This bedroom was perfect, Jenny decided. The temperature outside the confines of the blankets was cool, almost cold; the constant whir of the air conditioner had lulled her to sleep, despite nagging worries about the phone call from the police last night. For the moment she felt snug and safe beneath the weight of the fluffy, white comforter, and when she was reunited with her father and they were settled into their new home, she would ask him for a blanket just like this one. She wondered if the jail cell her father was in was like the ones she’d seen on television. Small and grim looking with bunk beds and a filthy toilet right out in the open. Her face burned with the injustice of someone having to actually pee, or worse, in front of complete strangers. She thought of her father, waking up on a narrow bunk bed, high above the ground, covered in a thin, smelly blanket. Her father did not like heights, often telling his friends that the pharmaceutical airline was the only way to fly. Jenny wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by this, but by the way they had laughed, casting shifty-eyed looks at one another, she figured it wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

She tried to imagine who his cell mate might be and hoped that he would have given her dad the lower bunk. Surely it wouldn’t be one of the men who had attacked him at the bus station. But they did that all the time on the cop show she and her father watched on the Friday nights they stayed at home. The police were forever putting suspects into cells with hulking men with dead eyes and tattoos of skulls, scorpions and spiderwebs crawling up their arms, in hopes of getting the guy to confess. But everyone liked her father. You just couldn’t help it. Even the men who had jumped him would like her dad if they took two minutes to talk to him. Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity, also a common theme on the police shows they watched. A big mistake, Jenny realized, and exhaled in relief.

From the edges of the drawn window shades, Jenny could see that the sun had risen, but she was reluctant to leave the cozy nest of a bed, despite the rumbling of her stomach. She thought of the grandmother she almost met, could almost picture her in her mind. She snaked a hand from beneath the covers, tugged open the drawer next to the bed and pulled out the bag of chocolate chip cookies. Carefully, Jenny nibbled on a cookie, cupping her hand beneath her mouth, so as not to get crumbs or chocolate on the pristine sheets. There was a tap at the door and Jenny shoved the rest of the cookie into her mouth.

Maudene opened the door, poked her head in and called, “Good morning, Jenny.”

“Morning,” Jenny mumbled sleepily as if just waking.

“Come on downstairs when you are ready. You can eat breakfast and then we need to make a plan for the day.” Jenny’s stomach twisted nervously. Plans were not always a good thing.

After Maudene retreated, Jenny reluctantly slid from beneath the covers. She had taken a bath the night before in Maudene’s spotless tub. The bathtubs in the apartments and motels where she and her father lived were always grimy and had jagged cracks and suspicious stains, causing Jenny to speedily use the shower instead. She wanted to return to the tub, fill it with warm water and bubbles up to her ears, but figured Maudene would say that there was no way that Jenny could have gotten that dirty during the night to need another bath so soon.

She ran her father’s comb through her snarled hair, slipped on a change of clothes she had in her backpack, rechecked the contents of the manila envelope and counted her money. It was all still there, not that she thought that Maudene would have come in during the night to rob her, but she wouldn’t put anything past Leah or Lucas.

As she padded down the steps, she was welcomed by the smell of bacon frying and again her stomach grumbled loudly. She couldn’t understand why she was so hungry all the time now. It wasn’t like she was starving before, though she and her father could go for days eating ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese and there were times when the only real meal she got was at school during lunch. The table was filled with food: freshly cut melon, a plate filled with toasted bread, jars of peanut butter and jelly, cartons of milk and orange juice. Lucas and Leah were already sitting in the breakfast nook eating scrambled eggs and bacon. Jenny couldn’t help but compare Leah’s sharply pressed shorts and bright white t-shirt to her own rumpled outfit. “Grab a plate, Jenny,” Maudene said cheerfully, and Jenny complied, bringing it to the stove where Maudene filled it with eggs and crisp bacon. “That enough for you?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jenny said, surveying the kitchen for somewhere else to eat besides next to Leah and Lucas. She settled for standing at the counter next to Maudene as she cracked more eggs into the cast-iron skillet.

“Can we go call Mom and Dad now?” Leah asked. “I want to see Avery today.”

Maudene glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s a little early, but it should be okay.” Maudene turned off the stove and moved the egg-filled skillet from the hot burner. “Let’s go in the other room and give them a call. Jenny, you go ahead and finish eating and we’ll be right back.”

“Mom?” came Leah’s voice from the living room. Jenny didn’t think she had ever heard one single word sound so sad and lonely and she tried to block out the conversation by crunching loudly on a piece of toast. “When can we see Avery?” Leah was crying now, her words barely discernible between sobs. “Are you coming to get us?” The response on the other side of the phone must have been what Leah wanted to hear because her cries gradually tapered away. The conversation continued for a few more minutes with Lucas and Maudene both speaking in muted tones.

“The good news is that Avery had a good night and Ellen is on her way over right now,” Maudene said in a cheery, overbright voice as she came back into the kitchen. Leah scowled at Jenny as she ran through the kitchen and out the back door with Lucas close at her heels. Maudene began scooping eggs and bacon onto a clean plate she pulled from the cupboard. “For Ellen when she gets here,” she explained, seeing Jenny’s quizzical look. “I wish you and Leah got along a little better.” Maudene shook her head. “You both are going through a hard time right now. I was hoping maybe you could be friends.” Handing Jenny the plate, she added, “Put this in the microwave, would you? I want to keep it warm for Ellen.” Jenny took the plate and with a twinge of guilt placed it in the microwave. She didn’t care much about Leah, but she didn’t want Maudene feeling bad, especially after how nice she had been to her, giving her food and that beautiful bedroom to sleep in. Jenny vowed to try harder with Leah if only because it would make Maudene happy.

Together, Maudene and Jenny scraped and rinsed the dirty breakfast dishes and frying pans and placed them in the dishwasher. Jenny knew she should tell Maudene about the phone call from the police in Benton last night but couldn’t quite bring herself to, worried that Maudene would immediately call them back. Jenny watched Maudene carefully from the corner of her eye. Her face was pale and the corners of her mouth were pulled down with worry. In that moment Jenny realized that Maudene could have easily let Jenny leave the Happy Pancake without a second thought, could have just let her keep going when they had stopped to pick up Lucas and Leah. But she didn’t. She came after Jenny. Twice. Maudene clearly had plenty of other things to worry about: Avery, Ellen, Lucas and Leah, but still she found time for Jenny.

On impulse, Jenny stood and threw her arms around Maudene. “Thank you!” she whispered into the old woman’s ear. Just as quickly she released her, grabbed her backpack and sat back down, leaving them both a bit stunned at her impulsive display of affection.

“Mom!” came a shout from the backyard.

“Ellen’s here.” Maudene stood, a wide smile spreading across her face, making her appear years younger.

“I’ll get her plate,” Jenny said, already moving toward the microwave while Maudene rushed to the back door.