Someone to Watch Over Me (27 page)

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Authors: Michelle Stimpson

BOOK: Someone to Watch Over Me
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“Shut up!” I touched my lips with my fingers. “It
was
supposed to happen. I prayed and asked God for clarity about our relationship. And He showed me exactly where we stood.”
Kevin angled his head downward, doubting me. “So you prayed?”
“Yes!”
“And you believe God set this whole thing up with Taylor to answer your prayers?”
I shrugged. “You got a better explanation?”
He shrugged, too. “Whatever. All I know is, you've changed, Tori.”
Smiling ear to ear, I gloated, “That's the best thing you've ever said to me.”
Chapter 28
K
evin caught a red-eye flight to Salt Lake City early Wednesday morning. Despite his doctor's recommendations, Kevin thought it best to get back in the swing of things. He said he couldn't do the whole laying-around-the-house thing.
He walked out minus our routine good-bye kiss. Simply “See ya.”
“Adios.”
Our second honest exchange in years, probably.
Now for the big meeting with Inner-G reps. Lexa and I were pumped. In my heart, I felt as though I had been training my leader, but I knew Lexa's self-esteem needed the boost. She needed to at least look like the lead on the account. I had groomed her for every question they might ask. I even gave her a lesson on how to say “I don't know” without sounding incompetent.
When we wrapped up our review, Lexa had asked me if I'd ever considered a career in law. “You could prime witnesses for cross-examination.”
Lexa was ready to rock, and I was more than happy to have her back.
I picked the most sophisticated suit in my closet. A black single-button pant suit tailored to professionally accentuate my every curve. My twists unrolled perfectly, spiking at all the right angles. Every aspect of my appearance screamed
Power!
Green lights led the way to work. Always a good sign. “Thank You, Lord. This is going to be a great day.”
As I took one of the closest parking spaces, courtesy of prompt arrival, my cell phone blared its ringing tune. I checked the display before answering.
Why is Aunt Dottie calling me?
“Hello?”
“Tooor.”
“Yes, it's me, Aunt Dottie,” I said.
“Deeeon.”
“DeAndre?”
“Yaaaahs.”
“What's the matter with DeAndre?”
She babbled off a series of incomprehensible words. “I can't understand you, Aunt Dottie. Is anyone else there?”
“Jonay.”
“Put her on the phone, please, Aunt Dottie.”
Eternal seconds ticked before Joenetta took the phone. “Who's this?”
“This is Tori. What's going on?”
“DeAndre's got himself in trouble again with white folks.”
“His bus hasn't even come yet—what kind of trouble?” I ranted.
“Worse than school. The law. Police found him riding his bike on the highway service road at three o'clock in the morning, clear over in Plainville. Now the folks at Child Protective Services got him. Might keep him for good.”
Fear clogged my throat. My voice trembled. “What? Why would they keep him? Why did he run away from Aunt Dottie's?”
“No. I'm trying to tell you what happened if you'd stop all this whining. Whoo!” She paused. “You ready to hear what happened?”
“Yes, please.”
“He ran away from
Ray-Ray's.
Serves DeAndre right if they keep him for a little while,” she spurted callously.
Lexa tapped on my car window, pointed at her watch, then toward the building. I acknowledged her hint with a go-away wave. She sped inside.
“You still there?” Joenetta yelled.
Barely able to breathe, I said, “Yes. Are you, or can someone go get him? Please.”
“Naw. They ain't releasin' him yet.” A baby's shrill cry filled the background. “I got to go. They might turn DeAndre loose to you if you can get to the county fast enough, I don't know. I said I gotta go. Bye.”
Quickly, I scrolled my call log to Jacob's name.
“Top 'o the mornin' to ya.”
“Joenetta says DeAndre ran away last night. The police caught him riding his bicycle and took him into custody. She says they won't release him to anyone.” My voice broke with emotion.
In his consistent, easy tone, Jacob assured me he would dress and get to the Bayford County building as quickly as possible. “I'll call you when I know something. Don't worry, Tori. DeAndre is tough. He'll be all right.”
Maybe he was tough at school when people ragged on his mother, but the DeAndre I'd come to care about was probably curled up in a little ball in the back corner of some room filled with malicious, foul-mouthed, pot-smoking delinquents.
I gathered my attaché and laptop, frazzled from head to toe. My phone in hand, I flew past the empty reception area and straight to the conference room.
“Here we go!” Lexa cheeped. Her eyes danced with confidence. “We make such a good team, Tori. I'm so sorry I ever doubted you.”
Nerves churned in my stomach. “I'll be back.”
My digestive system took the news of DeAndre's confinement as a cue to cleanse itself. Sitting there on the paper-lined toilet seat, I whispered to God in this secret place.
Father, I don't know what to pray, but You know what to do. Be with DeAndre. Intervene in this situation, O God. I . . . I can't believe this happened. But You already knew. So in Jesus' name I pray Your presence in this craziness. Amen.
Lexa must have sensed my distress upon return to the conference room. “Is there something I should know about?”
“My nephew. He ran away last night.”
She inhaled sharply. “Is he all right?”
“Thanks for your concern. Yes, he's okay, but the police have him. Or maybe Child Protective Services has him, I don't know.”
“Wow. Does he run away often?”
“Not that I know of. He's actually a pretty good kid,” I boasted.
“Wait a minute.” Lexa's brows furrowed. “Is this the one who peed in your trash can?”
“Yep. He's the one.”
“That was unbelievably hilarious. Sounds like something my brother would have done when we were little.”
“DeAndre had his reasons for peeing in the trash.” Conscious of my own statement, I quickly recognized he must have had cause for running away, too.
I read Jacob's name and heard the phone simultaneously. “Hello?”
“Okay, here's the deal. They're keeping DeAndre on the grounds he wasn't properly supervised.”
I protested, “But didn't he run away? You can't supervise someone who's run away!”
“Hold on, hold on.” Jacob attempted to calm me. “They just explained the protocol. Any time an eight-year-old is found wandering around town in the middle of the night, a formal inquiry automatically ensues.”
Put in those terms, the county's concerns made sense. “So what's next?”
“Child Protective Services will appear before a judge this afternoon and determine DeAndre's temporary custody arrangements pending a complete investigation,” he explained. “If someone, preferably a family member, steps in to assume temporary guardianship, they may release him to that family member. Otherwise, they'll put him in foster care.”
“What time?” I glanced at my watch.
Lexa slapped her hand on the table and shot me wide-open eyes. She mouthed “no” twice.
“One o'clock.”
Mental calculations put me back in Bayford at twelve-thirty if I left immediately and traffic cooperated with me.
“I'm on my way.”
Lexa amplified her nonverbal theatrics, standing and placing both hands on her head.
“I'll meet you at the courthouse,” he volunteered. “You know where it is?”
“No.”
“Call me when you hit the loop. I'll lead you in.”
“Thank you, Jacob.”
“No problem . . . hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Pray,” he suggested.
“I have.”
He closed the matter. “Then it's already done.”
My ear buzzed with Jacob's words while Lexa fumed in vain. “I can't believe this! You're
leaving
?
Now?
”
All I could do was imitate Jacob's calmness. “Lexa, you know this account backward and forward. You're perfectly capable of conducting this meeting without me. We've practiced, we've prepared. You are
so
ready for this.”
“Preston will
not
be happy,” she snarled.
“He
will
be if you shine. In fact, he'll be extremely impressed if you pull this off without me.”
She sank back into her seat. “What is this—reverse psychology?”
I sat in the chair next to her. “Lexa, I'm not trying to trick you. I'm trying to make you see that you
are
capable, you
can
lead a successful major campaign, you
can
succeed without compromising yourself.”
“But I
need
you,” she squealed.
“Yes, you
did
need me to prepare you, and I've prepared you well. I mean, all I'd planned to do during the meeting was sit here and smile while you did all the talking.”
She took in a deep breath. “What will happen to your cousin if you don't go?”
“He'll be put in state's custody.”
Tears softened her flustered expression. “I wouldn't wish foster care on my worst enemy.” She closed her eyes. “Go.”
A brief hug sealed the deal. “Thank you for understanding, Lexa. I meant every word I said about you pulling this off. You'll cover for me with Preston?”
She pushed me away. “Yes. Just go, go, go before I change my mind already.”
She didn't have to tell me twice. I rushed out of the building, thanking God I'd been humble enough to teach Lexa how to shine. I thought I'd been helping her, but in reality, I'd helped myself.
I called Aunt Dottie to give her an update. In her own way, she told me to be careful and not worry. Maybe it's wrong to speed when God has made a way, but my right foot didn't get the memo. I made it back to Bayford in record time and called Jacob for final instructions.
At the courthouse, we touched and agreed in prayer. Jacob squeezed my trembling hands as he muttered in closing, “Amen.”
As we walked into the building, Jacob said, “I saw DeAndre earlier. He's fine. He thinks he's on an adventure.” Jacob unfurled a paper he'd been holding onto and explained, “Here's some paperwork you need to complete and give to the secretary before the hearing. I've already listed you as a concerned party.”
My biggest fear assuaged, Jacob and I took a seat on the left side of the courtroom. Looked like something straight out of a scene from the Salem Witch Trials. Hardwood floors, intimidating gargoyles in all four corners of the room, simple chairs for everyone except the judge, whose ample behind had obviously been sitting in big, comfortable lounge chairs most of his adult life. I had to cut him some slack, though. Maybe listening to people's arguments and troubles all day drained him of all energy. If his life was half as dramatic as my week, he needed to stay seated.
“Are we on the correct side?” I whispered to Jacob as two attorneys approached the bench to consult with the judge.
“Quiet in the courtroom!” the judge boomed.
Out of habit, I tweeted, “Sorry.”
“I said quiet, or I'll have you both removed!”
Jacob grabbed my hand. The bailiff flashed me an apologetic grin.
Okay, so it's not me
. This judge
had
to be some kinda kin to Joenetta Lester. I checked out his nameplate. Judge Peter Kiplinger, JD.
“Lord, You are good and Your mercy endureth forever,” someone's ring-tone blasted. The guilty party, an elderly redheaded gentleman two rows ahead, scurried to silence the phone before the line repeated.
Oh my gosh!
Judge Kiplinger slammed his gavel. “Bailiff, remove that man from the courtroom and issue a ticket for disrupting our proceedings.”
Maybe DeAndre had been right after all about these Bayford County judges being bad. Jacob and I both double-checked our phones to make sure we wouldn't be the next victims. In the process, a text from Lexa caught my eye.
We lost Inner-G. Heads will roll. You were wrong about me. I froze.
How could this be? After all we'd done, after I prayed to God
?
Nothing made sense, but I had to refocus.
I gave myself the same pep talk I'd given Lexa only hours before.
I am a big girl. I can do this. I'm a trained professional. I can market myself.
Not helping, especially after Lexa's awful news.
When my own words didn't work, I tried the scriptures with greater success.
I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

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