Little Mercies (18 page)

Chapter 28

W
hen Jenny heard her father’s voice, she couldn’t help but start crying. “How are you, Jenny Penny?” he asked.

“Okay,” Jenny said through her tears. “When are you coming to get me?”

“I can’t be the one to come and get you, but the good news is you’re coming back to Benton in a few days. Isn’t that good news, Jenny?”

“I’m coming home?” Jenny sniffled. “But where are we going to live?”

Her father was silent for a moment. “The social worker told you it would be a while until we could be together, didn’t she?” Jenny nodded, but couldn’t speak even though she knew her father couldn’t see her.

“You’ll stay with a nice family for a little while, but we’ll be able to talk on the phone.”

Jenny froze. “What nice family?” she asked.

“It’s just for a little while, Jenny. I promise,” her father said earnestly.

“A foster family?” Jenny asked fearfully.

Her father’s voice broke. “I’m trying to get better, Jenny, but it’s hard.”

“A foster family?” Jenny repeated.

Jenny had never heard her father crying before and it caused her to cry even harder. “I love you, Jenny,” her father whispered.

Jenny couldn’t remember her father ever saying that to her before. “Love you, too,” Jenny echoed.

When they hung up, Jenny sat on the floor, sobbing. She was going to be sent to a foster home.

The timer on the oven began beeping, signaling that the rhubarb crisp they’d made was finished. Wearily, Jenny climbed the stairs and stood outside Maudene’s room. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop—her father’s friend-girls always told her it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations. But she couldn’t help but listen to what Maudene and Ellen were saying. The door was opened just a crack and she heard Ellen say her name and again there was talk of a social worker and foster care.
Traitors!
Jenny thought. And then Maudene talked about her grandmother being dead. And then she said that it was Jenny’s mother who’d answered the door. Could it be true? Was her mother living in this town, just a few miles from where Jenny was standing right here and now? Was she still with Jimmy? And why hadn’t she ever tried to call Jenny? So many questions spun through Jenny’s head.

She crept back to the top of the stairs, being careful to make sure the floor didn’t creak beneath her feet. “Maudene,” she hollered. “Maudene, the oven is beeping! The rhubarb crisp is done!”

“Oh, my!” Maudene answered, tripping into the hallway. Maudene’s feet were bare, her white hair was tousled from sleep and there was a crease in the delicate skin on one side of her face.

“I didn’t want it to burn,” Jenny explained.

“Let’s go take a look,” Maudene said airily. “I can smell it from up here.”

Jenny followed Maudene down the stairs and with each step a plan began to form in her mind. She needed to make sure that they didn’t send her away just yet and she needed to go and see for herself if it was really her mother in the house on Hickory Street. She would have to work fast. All it took was one phone call and within minutes she would be placed in the backseat of a social worker’s car and on her way to some foster home. “I’ll be right there!” Jenny called down the steps after Maudene, and turned around, almost bumping into Ellen.

“You okay, Jenny?” Ellen asked scrutinizing Jenny’s face with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have to grab something from my room.” Jenny stepped past Ellen, slipped into the bedroom, flipped on the light and scanned the room. She couldn’t quite pinpoint how she knew, but someone had been in here. She thought of her backpack, down in the kitchen, and she chided herself for letting it out of her sight. Her father’s cell phone was still plugged into its charger and she grabbed it. Six missed calls, three voice mails and two texts, all from Connie. Jenny read the texts first:
Call me im worried about u.
And then,
i talked to ur dad hes ok call me.
Next Jenny listened to the voice mails, hoping to hear more news about her father.

“Jenny,” came Connie’s fretful voice. “Please, please call me. I’m so worried about you. I just want to know that you’re okay. Please call me.” The second message was much the same, but the third made Jenny sit up. “Jenny, it’s Connie. I talked to your dad. He is in jail, but he’s okay. He said he’s been trying to tell anyone that will listen that you are somewhere out there all by yourself. You’ve got to call me, Jenny,” Connie pleaded. “I’ll come and get you, just tell me where you are.”

Jenny hated that she had caused Connie to worry so much. She should just call her, tell her she’s okay and ask her to come and get her. But she wanted to see her mom, just to see if it was really her. Maybe Jimmy would be long gone and her mother would explain that she didn’t really mean to leave Jenny behind. That she didn’t really choose Jimmy over Jenny. Maybe he had kidnapped her mother and forced her to run away. Jenny’s heart pounded with the possibilities. She just needed a little more time to figure out exactly what to do.

She pressed Send to connect to Connie and she answered on the first ring. “Jenny! My God, are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Listen, don’t do that to me again. Please don’t ignore my calls. I’ve been so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said apologetically. She did feel bad that she made Connie worry so much. “I talked to my dad, I really miss him.”

Connie sighed. “I’m glad you two talked. He really got himself into a mess this time, didn’t he? He’s not really hurt, but it might take a little time to get all the—” she paused trying to find the right words “—legal stuff figured out,” she concluded.

“How long do you think it will take?” Jenny asked, hoping that Connie could answer the question her father did not.

“I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it could take some time.”

Oh,” Jenny said in a small voice. “Then I guess we’re not moving to Dubuque?”

“I don’t think so. At least not for a while anyway,” Connie answered.

“So if I go back to Benton, I really won’t be able to stay with my dad?” Jenny asked, already knowing the answer.

“I don’t know exactly how all this works, but I don’t think so,” Connie said with difficulty. “But we’ll work something out. It will be okay. I’ll make sure to check on you. When you get settled into your foster home you can call me anytime you want. I’ll come visit to make sure you’re doing okay.” Jenny thought she heard Connie sniffle on the other end of the phone.

“Couldn’t I just stay with you?” Jenny asked before she could stop herself. The short silence that followed was answer enough.

“It’s complicated, Jenny,” Connie finally said. “Do you want me to come to pick you up and bring you back to Benton? I will.”

Jenny closed her eyes and waited for the ache in her chest to pass. “No, that’s okay,” she said finally, thinking of her mother in the white house and green shutters. “I’ve got to go.” Before Connie could speak again, Jenny hung up and headed down the steps to help with dinner.

Very quickly, Jenny realized that someone else was in the house. An unfamiliar female voice chattered on and on from the direction of the kitchen and Jenny stood outside the door trying to listen.

“I was worried when I went to your home and saw all the press outside. Smart thinking, coming over to your mom’s house.”

Jenny exhaled with relief. Whoever it was, she wasn’t there about Jenny. She slipped quietly into the kitchen.

Sitting at the kitchen table was Maudene, Ellen and the stranger. She was young and pretty with long shiny yellow hair pulled back in a headband. She wore a short-sleeved yellow t-shirt, a khaki skirt and brown sandals. “Now, Ellen,” the woman said. “I know you know how all this works.”

“I do,” Ellen said tightly.

“And I imagine it’s very uncomfortable for you, but I promise I will make my visits as unobtrusive and painless as possible.” The woman took a sip from the glass of iced tea sitting in front of her. “I’ll interview Lucas and—” she peered at the notebook in her hand “—Leah. Talk with you, of course, and also visit with your husband. And he is where?” She looked around the kitchen as if the husband would miraculously appear.

“He’s at the hospital with Avery,” Ellen supplied patiently.

“Oh, who’s this?” the woman asked, seeing Jenny lurking across the room. “Leah, maybe?”

“No, no,” Maudene said hurriedly. “This is Jenny. I’m watching her for a few days.”

“Nice to meet you, Jenny. My name is Nicole.” She flashed Jenny a smile, but Jenny wasn’t fooled—both Maudene and Ellen were clearly worried about this visit. “How long will you be staying?” Nicole asked.

“Just until Monday,” Jenny answered, looking Nicole straight in the eyes. “I’m leaving on Monday.”

Nicole nodded, still grinning as she turned back to Ellen. “As your care coordinator, I will also attend any scheduled family team meetings as well as any court hearings that might arise.”

“Okay,” Ellen said, fidgeting nervously. “Would you like to speak with Leah and Lucas now or do you want to talk with me some more?”

“I can visit with the kids now. As you know I will talk with each of your children individually.”

Ellen pinched her lips together. “I’ll go and get them,” she said stiffly, rising from her chair.

Jenny was familiar with care coordinators, though they weren’t called that back in Nebraska. They nosed into your family’s business, wrote everything down in little notebooks and typed up long reports that strangers read. Jenny decided she wasn’t going to like Nicole, but wanted to be helpful to Maudene and Ellen.

“Ellen is a very good mother,” Jenny said, joining Nicole and Maudene at the table.

“Oh?” Nicole asked. “How so?”

Maudene cleared her throat. “Can I get you some more iced tea?”

“No, thank you,” Nicole declined.

“Jenny, can you go on into the laundry room and see if you can find my green apron with the apples embroidered on it?” Maudene was staring hard at Jenny, so Jenny scraped her chair back from the table, even though she had no idea where the laundry room was. On her way through the living room she passed by Leah, who looked frightened.

“Don’t worry,” Jenny whispered as they brushed past each other. “Just don’t say anything bad about your mom and you’ll be fine.”

Jenny trotted up the steps and found a door leading to a room she hadn’t been in yet. Inside was a washer and dryer and mounds of neatly folded towels and dishrags. Sitting at the bottom of the laundry basket was the green apron and Jenny plucked it from the pile. Jenny knew that Maudene didn’t want her to come downstairs just yet, so she sat down on the tiled floor and thought about the overheard conversation between Maudene and Ellen. Her mother could be making dinner right this minute in the white house, or maybe she was folding laundry into tidy little stacks. If she left for Nebraska on Monday, she would never know for sure if it was her mother living in the house on Hickory Street. Tomorrow morning she would just go to the house and take a peek to see if she recognized the woman as her mother. And if it wasn’t her mother, at least she’d know. And if it was her mother... Jenny didn’t dare try to imagine what could happen then. She buried her face in the green apron, inhaling its freshly laundered scent and, despite herself, hope swelled within her chest.

Chapter 29

I
mmediately after Nicole questioned Leah and Lucas and informed me that as our care coordinator she could return to our home at any time, I took my cell phone and went up to the white bedroom, which Jenny good-naturedly surrendered. Initially I had planned on making two phone calls. One to Ted Vitolo, to talk to him about the next hearing, the second to Ruth Johnson to see how far she’d come in finding out if Jenny had any other relatives. I end up only making the call to the Ted. We talk for just a few minutes and I confirm that I’m going to meet with him the following day after I have my pretrial conference with a corrections officer.

At the dinner table Jenny surprises us by informing us that she is ready to go back to Benton and to her new foster home. “My dad told me about it last night. I’m sorry I caused so much trouble,” she tells us as she forks up a mound of mashed potatoes.

My mother looks taken aback. “Really? You’re really okay with this, Jenny? It’s only temporary, until things get figured out with your dad.”

“I’m okay. Really,” she says, not quite meeting my mother’s eyes. “What time will I leave for Benton?” Jenny asks. “Will I have to take the bus back?”

“No,” Maudene says quickly. “Ruth said she will drive you back to Benton and then help you get settled. You won’t leave until next Monday. It’s only Thursday, so we still have four days together. Does that sound okay?”

Jenny nods, her eyes fixed on her plate.

* * *

What my mother doesn’t realize is all the behind-the-scenes work that goes into the reunification process. The good news is that Jenny’s dad appears serious in his desire to get Jenny back. Already the state of Nebraska has opened a court case on Jenny and a court order has been drafted stating that Jenny is to be placed in a foster home in Benton. Since Ruth already has a relationship with Jenny, she volunteered to be the one to drive her back to Nebraska. She’ll meet with staff from the Nebraska Department of Health and Human Services to help with the transition to foster care.

“Of course, you can call me anytime you want,” my mother says, a bit flustered. “I wish I could go with you and help get you settled in, but...” I can tell she has grown attached to Jenny and isn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her.

Again, Jenny shrugs as if she doesn’t care, but the defeated slope of her shoulders tells me otherwise.

I am a bit suspicious of Jenny’s sudden willingness to go back into foster care, but decide to give her the benefit of the doubt and see what Monday brings.

It’s a low-key dinner. Leah and Lucas are exceptionally quiet after their interviews with Nicole who, I realize, when I see the faces of my exhausted children, must have interview techniques that rival the Inquisition.

After we finish eating we all work to clear the table, rinse the dishes and wrap up the leftovers. I go upstairs to make one final phone call.

“Mom,” Lucas calls up to me. “Come outside! You have to see all the fireflies we’re catching!”

“Be right down!” I yell back. I dial my husband’s cell phone. I want to say good-night to him and Avery. I want Adam to press his phone up against Avery’s ear so I can say the bedtime prayer I say with her every night. He doesn’t answer, which is understandable. The nurses could be changing Avery’s IV bag or he could be in the cafeteria getting something to eat. I open the bedside table and pull out the package of cookies that Jenny left behind and begin to eat one even though I am still stuffed from supper. After I swallow, I once again dial Adam’s number. This time he answers. His words come in a rush and I am slow to keep up with what he is saying. “Wait, wait,” I tell him. “Start over. What’s happening?”

“Something is happening to Avery,” he cries. “One minute she was fine, just sleeping, and then all these beeps started going off and she’s shaking and won’t stop. Then the room was filled with doctors and nurses. They made me leave the room.” He is crying now. “Ellen, I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”

“I’ll be right there. I’m coming right now.” I hang up the phone and run down the stairs. I don’t want to scare Lucas and Leah, so I try to calm myself before I go out onto the porch. I take a deep breath and open the front door. My mother is sitting on the porch swing, Dolly asleep at her feet, watching Lucas, Leah and Jenny chasing after fireflies. They are laughing and swiping at the small, bright flashing lights with cupped hands.

“Look,” Leah says, holding up a glass jar filled with twinkling lights.

“Good job, guys,” I call to them. In a low voice I tell my mother that I have to go to the hospital and will call her later. “Please don’t say anything to Leah and Lucas just yet. I don’t want to worry them.”

“Yes, of course,” my mother says. “You go now. I’ll take good care of them.”

“I know you will,” I bend down and kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” I arrange my face into an animated mask and make an effort to admire each of the kids’ firefly jars. “I’m just going to run to the house and get a few things. I’m sure the reporters are gone by now.”

“Can I go with you?” Leah calls, lunging toward a winking glow.

“No, you stay here and have some fun. I want to see who caught the most fireflies when I get back.”

“I’m going to,” Jenny yells, her hair falling loose from its braid as she chases a flashing light.

“No, I am!” Lucas disagrees. Leah rolls her eyes as if she is above it all but runs to join the fray.

I try to steady my hands as I climb into the truck. Avery has to be okay. I turn on the lights, turn the key in the ignition and pull away from my childhood home. I do my best to stay within the speed limit but find myself moving too quickly through the residential neighborhood, not stopping completely at stop signs. I force myself to slow down and it feels like an eternity before I arrive at the hospital, though it takes me under ten minutes to get there.

I see no television vans or reporters at the front entrance, but it wouldn’t matter if there were. This entrance is the fastest way to get to Avery. I rush through the corridors and up the elevator until I reach the PICU. I find Adam standing outside Avery’s room steadying himself against the nurses’ station. “What’s going on?” I ask, desperately searching his face for some indication that everything is okay.

“I don’t know. They are still in there. No one can tell me anything,” he says, pulling me into a hug.

“It’ll be okay,” I say, because it’s the only thing I can think of to say and because it has to be.

A nurse that I don’t recognize eyes us uneasily. At first I think Avery must be in a very bad way, but then I realize she’s not nervous about Avery, it’s me she’s worried about. Damn, I say to myself, she’s going to make trouble. I pull on Adam’s hand and lead him to the hallway where we are out of sight of the nurse but still close enough if we need to get to Avery right away. “What happened?” I ask again, searching his face for any answers he can give me.

“I’m not sure.” He removes his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “She was fine one minute and the next—” he looks around as if he can pluck the right word from air above us “—chaos.”

“Look, Adam,” I say, trying to get him to focus on my face. “I’m not even supposed to be here. Can you go back in there and try and find out what’s happening. I’ll go and wait in the cafeteria. No one can say I’m doing any harm if I’m down there.” He nods, but I can tell he’s nervous about returning to the PICU by himself. Afraid of what might be awaiting him there. “Call me the minute you hear anything, and if I need to I’ll come right back up here.” I surprise myself with the fierceness I hear in my own voice. Nothing will keep me away from Avery if she needs me. I will push past nurses, doctors, Prieto and Caren if I have to.

I watch Adam as he reenters the PICU and force myself to head to the elevator. I’m too late, though, a hospital security guard is moving my way. I pretend I don’t see him and as casually as possible turn and walk in the other direction. I’ll take the stairs down to the cafeteria. Hopefully, the security guard will assume I’m leaving and let things alone. No such luck. I glance behind me and see that he is still following me. He is a clean-cut, heavyset young man who can’t be more than twenty-one years old. His weight slows him down and I’m able to get a head start down the steps. Instinctively, I feel his pace quicken behind me and I wonder if I can get in trouble for evading a security officer. My feet pound down the concrete steps, each footfall echoing through the stairwell. The strangeness of the situation does not escape me as I rush past a startled pair of nurses in green scrubs. Slightly out of breath, I push through the heavy metal door that opens to the first floor and crash into a wall of solid flesh. “Sorry!” Head down, I try to step past the figure, but he moves with me, blocking my way.

“Got a call about a disturbance on the PICU,” he says, taking me by the arm.

“Hey,” I protest, looking up at my assailant. “Joe.” I hiss, “You scared me to death.”

Red-faced and out of breath, the security guard joins us. “I can’t believe you ran,” he says angrily, sweat dripping from his temple.

“I wasn’t running,” I say, feigning innocence. “Were you trying to talk to me?”

“Yeah right,” he snorts. “You—” he points a stubby finger at me “—are not allowed on the PICU.”

I look helplessly up at Joe. I don’t think I can stand having to explain myself to this child who knows nothing about my situation. “I got it now,” Joe tells the guard, flashing him his badge. “I’ll make sure to get her to where she needs to go.” The security guard narrows his eyes at me as if memorizing my face for the next time he catches me and reluctantly walks away, this time toward the elevators.

Joe’s face breaks into a wide smile as he looks down at me. The appearance of my old friend should be comforting to me, but instead I start crying. “It’s not funny. There is nothing funny about this at all.”

Joe’s demeanor changes immediately and the smile falls from his face. “Of course, it’s not funny,” he says contritely. “Come on, let’s go get a cup of coffee.”

“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” I am only half kidding. Both Joe and I know I’m in violation of a protective order, nothing to take lightly.

“Ellen,” he says as if I should know better. We walk in silence the rest of the way to the cafeteria while I keep checking my cell phone in case I’ve missed a call from Adam. It’s too hot for coffee, so Joe buys me a soda and we find a table in the corner so we can talk.

Joe regards me carefully as he peels the paper wrapper from his straw. We haven’t talked about it yet and I know he’s debating whether or not to ask me about what happened. How I could have possibly left Avery in the car. He doesn’t ask. Instead, he takes a long sip of soda through his straw. “It was an accident,” I whisper. “A horrible accident.” I shake my head, wondering how many times I will have to say these three words. A horrible accident.

“Avery going to be okay?” he asks, his eyes soft with concern.

I feel what little composure I have left crumbling. “They’re working on her right now.” I swipe at my nose with a napkin. “The doctors and nurses are doing things to her and I don’t even know what because I can’t be there.” My voice is rising and a group of residents sitting nearby turn briefly to look at me.

“I’m waiting for Adam to call me, text me, or something. I can’t stand not knowing what’s happening.” I look at Joe and get an idea. “You could escort me upstairs. They can’t possibly think I would be any harm to Avery if a policeman is with me.”

Joe reaches over to pat me on the hand; his thick fingers lie heavily against mine and I welcome the weight. “Not a good idea, El.”

I know he’s right. If I keep showing up at Avery’s hospital bed, defying the protective order, I could be arrested again and, technically, Joe would have to be the one to read me my rights. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

Joe looks thoughtfully at me as if he wants to say something but is hesitant. “You know,” he finally says, “this could have happened to anyone. You have to stop beating yourself up. I’ve been reading up on similar situations. Accidents like this.”

I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t want to think about other parents who come out to their car after a day of work, after working out at the gym, after church, to find a child languishing in the backseat. Or worse. I stare intently at my cell phone sitting in front of me, willing it to buzz with word from Adam that everything is okay.

“Happens about twenty-five times a year.”

But not to me!
I want to cry.
It shouldn’t have happened to me.

“Regular people like us,” Joe looks at me earnestly. “Happened to a police officer and an accountant. To a pastor. Even happened to a doctor.”

I don’t want to be a member of this club. I want to go back in time. What would I do differently? So many things. Everything.

“What it comes down to is the county attorney. He or she decides if a person should be charged. And Prieto decided to charge you.” Joe’s hand still covers mine and I’m mindful that it could be the only thing that is keeping me from breaking into a million pieces.
Why doesn’t Adam call? Please call. “
This will all be over in a few weeks. DHS will do its investigation and determine it was an accident.” Joe pauses. “You’ll see.” But we both know that this won’t be over. Ever.

My phone shakes and I clamber for it, my fingers clumsily pressing buttons. “It’s okay,” Adam tells me. “She had another seizure, but it’s over. She’s tired but she seems like she’s okay.”

I begin to weep, burying my face in a thin napkin pulled from the dispenser on the table. “She’s okay,” I tell Joe. “For now she’s okay.” Joe nods, relief relaxing his face, and he gets up and refills our glasses, allowing me a moment to gather myself together. This is a comforting thing about hospitals: No one looks at you twice if you succumb to tears. If anything, there are expressions of solidarity, silent transmissions saying,
I know. I know just how you feel.

Joe comes back to the table, sets my glass in front of me. “Bet you wish you had some rum to put in that Coke.” I smile at him halfheartedly, appreciative of his effort to get me to laugh. “Is Adam coming down here?” he asks. Joe and Adam are friendly but not friends. Though he doesn’t come out and say anything, there are times, when I get off the phone with Joe or talk about him, Adam gets very quiet, distant. “In a little bit. He’s afraid to leave Avery’s side. Don’t feel like you have to sit here with me, Joe,” I tell him. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”