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I didn't know, in that moment, who was more deserving of my sympathy, Faith, Noni or myself.

“Mom, I've gone through withdrawal from my last relapse,” Faith insisted after the last ER episode. And I knew it to be so because I'd held her during the last of them. They were nightmarish muscle spasms and chills and all manner of physical and mental symptoms.

She'd done it cold turkey. For that, I admired her courage.

Not a pretty site.

But now, I wrestled with doubts in other areas of trust.

I dialed the number of the county probation department. My hands shook because somewhere deep inside
me, I suspected what I would learn. Dan stood at the den window, looking out, hands shoved deeply in pockets.

I'd relayed my suspicions to him for once.

The clerk answered. I gave the information for her to check on. I waited, hoping against hope.

“Ma'am?” she said.

“Yes.”

“No, ma'am. Faith Stowe Kenyan is not and has not been on probation here.”

“Are you certain? I mean — ”

“She's not listed here in our department. You can call the Federal Department. I'll give you their number.”

Five minutes later, I knew. Faith had not been on probation in the two departments I'd contacted. Had not had fees, adding up to thousands of dollars over the past year. Nor drug tests for fifty-dollars a drop. Hundreds more dollars. She'd bilked her parents out of it for God only knew what.

Drugs? Probably. Most likely. My head was reeling with it all.

It all fell into distorted place; her insistence that I not accompany her into the probation office when she paid, nor circuit court. Always for the same reason. “It looks bad for me not to be handling this on my own, Mom.”

And she insisted she was “clean.”

“The tests always come out clean,” she reminded me. “You talked to my probation officer.”

Yes, I'd talked to James Bell. A nice sounding man

A thought hit me. A sliver of hope. I redialed both probation offices. “Do you have a probation officer named James Bell?”

Each replied “No one by that name.”

And, I thought,
how naive
can one be?

Stupid? That, too.

I think it was just that I wanted to believe Faith.

Oh, Faith always produced a receipt but with her sharp intellect, she could have done that ahead. She could have had someone on parole to attach a copy of their receipt and edit it for her own purposes.

A memory popped up. One day, I took Faith to a district court to pay a fine. She pitched one of her most violent fits when I insisted on going inside with her. She ended up slipping through a door into a back section, leaving me in the reception area. She managed to get a receipt but claimed she'd dropped some money — other than the fine fee I'd given her, at least a hundred and fifty dollars — and insisted on turning around to go back and search the parking lot.

“It's gone by now, Faith.” The characters that meandered about that parking lot would have snatched those greenbacks up in a flash.

The wailing escalated and Faith accused me of callousness. My nerves were near the breaking point.

I tried to calm her down, which only revved her up more. Something about it spoke of diversion. A smoke screen. She was hiding something. “Stop it!” I ordered. “You'll cause me to wreck.”

True. I was on busy interstate I-85 with nowhere to turn around even if I'd chosen to. Her hissy fit pummeled her into exhaustion, and when we arrived at the house, she vanished up the stairs and into bed.

Now, today, I realized where all that emotion had come from. She'd dropped her coup of perhaps a couple of hundred dollars.

Our hard-earned money. Ill-gotten by her. And we were practically bankrupt, thinking we were keeping her out of jail.

Her betrayal hit me hard.

“I chose not to confront her at the time. It would not undo all the damage. The money was gone. Kaput. I chose not to tell you, Dan, either, because your health was suffering enough. I'm sorry.”

He jiggled change in his pocket then sank into an easy chair opposite me.

Unfortunately, Faith walked in the front door just then. She'd been to visit a neighbor up the street. “Hi. What ya'll doing? What's wrong, Mama?” she plunged in with her forthright way and looking genuinely concerned, sank down in the seat opposite me.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. I needed a rest from chaos and a confrontation would only let loose another vitriolic display of rage between father and daughter. Tonight, I needed a big dose of chill out.

But Dan had other ideas. Like Faith, his manner was never to retreat. It was up front and succinct. “Tomorrow, Faith, I want you to find somewhere else to live. Mom and I both feel it's time.”

Faith looked at us, her mouth dropped open, disbelieving, like a bus had rammed into her. Tears slowly gathered in her eyes — then the blue turned to ice. Her mouth opened and a string of harsh expletives exploded from her. Hurt propelled her … on and on, until she ran out of breath. “I hate you both,” she concluded in a whisper. “I don't have a family.”

Then she spun and dashed up the stairs.

Her door slammed loudly and I heard a wall picture crash to the floor.

It was definitely time for Faith to leave.

The next morning, after a restless night, I decided to confront Faith with what I'd perceived to be her probation con game. I had to lay it all out and watch her reaction. I needed to know if I'd been right.

Or wrong.

She looked at me, her eyes red and weak as she lay in bed recovering from her previous day's breakdown. I tried to will my heart not to be too hard and just — love her. Dissonant echoes of yesterday's fracas bounced around in my head.

Dan hadn't addressed last night's edict that she leave today. Not yet. But I saw that behind those eagle green eyes a war raged. He now weighed things in his quiet way, going about his work as usual. Was this the time to toss Faith out? Ah, how well I knew that torn feeling he now experienced because underneath all that bluster and raging, Dan still loved that little girl inside Faith. And I was glad that he was not doing anything rash and furious.

Bottom line: Dan would come to a wise decision.

But was the evidence he now weighed correct?

I had to know.

Right now, Faith blinked and frowned at me, obviously confused. “Mom, I
have
been on probation. What department did you call for information?”

I told her. She shook her head. “That's not the right one. I'll go to the computer and pull it up for you.”

Within ten minutes, Faith's probation sentence was verified.

I was glad I had been wrong. Very glad.

“Mama,” Faith said hoarsely, “I wish you could trust me.”

“I do, too.”

“Don't you think you owe me an apology, Mama?” She said it so desperately that I heard her little girl's voice limning the woman's.

“I'm sorry, honey. I apologize.” I gathered her into my arms and held her as she wept quietly. “So, so sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Another thing,” I said, figuring it was best to clear out all issues while I was at it. “What about all those court costs we paid? I was told that there are no court costs there.”

Faith took a deep breath, blew it out and looked at me. “I'm sorry, Mom. That money was used to pay a traffic violation fine that ya'll didn't know about. I did it in increments. I didn't want to lie, but I knew that Dad wouldn't — ” She shook her head and spread her hands. “I just didn't want to hear him fuss about yet another thing I'd done to screw up my life. I can only take so much of being told how bad I am.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat loudly. “How much I've stolen from you.”

“I know. You don't need to be here. Like this. With us,” I said, meaning it.

“I know, Mama. But I don't have anywhere to go. Believe me, if I did, I'd leave in a heartbeat.”

Dan came in then. He dropped by the house during the day for short periods of time. “Faith,” he got right down to business, “About the probation and--”

I stopped him. “Dan, I've checked out Faith's story. I was totally wrong about probation. I called the wrong department and got wrong information.”

He looked at her. “What about all the money for court costs?”

“I had an old traffic violation charge against me and had a huge fine.” She explained why she'd not told him. “I'm sorry I lied, Dad. I just — ” She began to weep softly and sat down next to me on the sofa.

I put my arm around her. “Shh, it's okay, honey.”

“No,” Dan injected firmly. “It's not okay. She wasn't being truthful with us and that's not okay.”

“I didn't mean that, Dan,” I said, my stomach tightening. “I was just trying to comfort her.”

Dan's features softened a bit. “Faith, I'll rescind my order for you to leave today. But I want more honor shown to your mother and me. I mean that. Another thing, I'll take you to get a drug test tomorrow. If you pass, we're in business.”

Faith could hardly believe he was giving her a chance to redeem herself. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in her complete subjugation. Could hear it in the sincerity of her voice. “Thank you, Daddy. I won't disappoint you this time. I promise.”

“Keep Persevering and your heart will follow.”

— Unknown

 

 

And Faith did not disappoint us. She did the drug test and came out clean. And her attitude began to mellow.

“Mama,” she addressed me solemnly after the reprieve from her father, “I'm still struggling with guilt about that newspaper story, y'know, trying to find your mother.” She shrugged tightly. “That was really dumb.”

I sighed. “Well, don't worry. Noni apparently didn't see it because she's not said a word. Not to any of us. So, let's just be relieved. Okay?”

She smiled and wiped her eyes, obviously comforted.

I breathed a prayer of thanks.

“I have this final court date and Otto said the record of my year-long rehab program should help my case,” she reminded me a week later.

“What's Otto done to earn the last two thousand dollars we've given him?” Dan asked. I was wondering the same thing. But Faith's attorney had us because we didn't have the money to retain another defense lawyer.

Faith snorted. “Not a danged thing.” Her language had smoothed out considerably lately.

“He's still committed to defend Faith in the upcoming court appearance,” I reminded them both. “He's already been paid. My Social Security check will repay what I had to borrow for his fee.” It would take months to pay off the latest loan.