The Choice (51 page)
Jeremy studied the photo for a moment.
“You're right,” he said. “I can see some of him in Zach.”
“And here's the class photo.”
Sandy turned to a page she'd marked with a slip of paper. All the boys looked like they were wearing tuxedos. Sandy didn't like Brad's picture. He had an unpleasant smirk on his face.
“The way you and I look at people may be intimidating, but I like it better than his expression in that picture,” Jeremy said.
“Yes.”
“And I don't see a strong resemblance to Dusty Abernathy. The only similarity is the brownish-red wavy hair. The eyes, chin, and nose are all different.”
Sandy wasn't going to argue. Not with a man who'd just pledged his love and respect to her. She pointed to the pile of photos.
“Are there any pictures you've seen that shouldn't be in the scrapbook?” she asked.
“No, but I want more.”
“Let me exercise a bit of creative license,” Sandy said with a smile. “The theme of this album is how you got here. Later, you can get copies of all the photos you want. My mother has a bunch at her house too.”
“What did she say when you told her about me?” Jeremy asked.
Sandy told him about the phone call to Florida. They sat at the kitchen table and talked for over an hour. There seemed to be an unlimited amount of information to be discussed. Finally, Jeremy looked at his watch.
“I'd better get going. I have to pick up Chloe from soccer practice.”
“She's a fantastic player.”
“Yeah. Her two favorite things are soccer and reading.”
When they reached Ben's office, Jeremy gave Sandy a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“I could get used to that,” Sandy said, “but you've touched me much deeper in here.” She pointed to her heart. “Thank you for wanting me in your life.”
Jeremy took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Would it be okay if I gave you a kiss?” Sandy asked.
Jeremy lowered his face, and Sandy planted a firm kiss on his right cheek.
After Jeremy left, Sandy returned home. The familiar surroundings of the kitchen now seemed empty. Nelson lay in his favorite spot in the corner. Sandy looked at the dog.
“Once you have a family, it doesn't feel right unless you're all together.”
The first thing Sandy did when she arrived at school the following day was look for a hidden surveillance camera. The ceiling area of her classroom was clear, so she began looking in more obscure places. She moved the ancient clock, checked in the area of the fire evacuation chart, and carefully inspected every inch of the blackboard. When she turned around, a male student in her first-period class was watching her with a puzzled look on his face.
“What is it, Curtis?” Sandy asked.
“I brought my paper by early. I have a dentist's appointment today. Did you lose something?”
“No.”
Curtis handed her the assignment. As he turned to leave, Sandy looked over his shoulder into the hallway. There, unobtrusively stuck to the place where the ceiling met the top of the wall, was a black orb that concealed one of the cameras used to monitor student activity. The range of the camera must include the first few feet of her classroom. Sandy waved.
It took half of her first-period class for Sandy to reorient herself to her job as a teacher. She longed for the days when her greatest concerns had to do with managing her time and making sure a student with academic problems didn't slip through the cracks. After the third-period bell sounded, her classroom emptied. A few moments later, Maria appeared in her doorway. Sandy resisted the urge to shoo her away. Even if Maria left immediately, the camera still would have recorded a visit.
“Come in,” Sandy said. “I need to tell you what happened yesterday.”
Sandy spoke in Spanish. Maria listened without asking any questions until Sandy mentioned that the judge wanted her present at the rescheduled hearing.
“I don't know what to say to the judge.”
“Mr. Lane and I will go over that with you. In the meantime, there's a chance the lawyer from Atlanta is going to come to Rutland next week to talk to you. Mr. Lane hopes that once the lawyer meets you, he will realize that you are able to make decisions about your pregnancy on your own.”
“I saw Ms. Ramsey after first period,” Maria said. “She wants me to come by her office before I leave school today. Why does she want to see me?”
“Probably to talk about the hearing.”
“Do I have to go?”
“I can't tell you what to do,” Sandy replied slowly. “If I suggest you don't talk to Ms. Ramsey, the lawyer in Atlanta will use that to make it seem like I'm making you stay away from her. That could get me in trouble.” Maria shook her head. “And we need to stop talking in my classroom,” Sandy added.
“Why?”
She explained to Maria about the surveillance camera. The Hispanic girl's eyes widened.
“Don't turn around now,” Sandy said. “It might be better if we talk on the phone and arrange a place to meet that's not on school property. I'm going to get you a cell phone that allows me to buy a set number of minutes. When you run out, I can add more. That way you can get in touch with me, and Rosalita too.”
“Thank you,” Maria said with obvious gratitude. “I won't waste the minutes.”
After Maria left, Sandy felt a sense of relief but couldn't understand why. Nothing had been settled. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the process was getting clearer. The unknown is frightening. But Sandy had been inside a federal courtroom. She'd seen Judge Tompkins and met Dusty Abernathy. She'd heard Carol testify. And she knew in general terms what lay ahead.
When it was time for her lunch period, Sandy marched into the cafeteria without worrying whether she might encounter Carol. After going down the salad bar line, she sat with some teachers and entered into a conversation about plans for homecoming. The event was normally one of the highlights of Sandy's year. As a Rutland High graduate who still lived in the area and worked at the school, she was a natural focal point for homecoming activities. This year she hadn't done anything. She jotted a few notes to herself on a napkin and slipped it in her purse.
That afternoon on her way home, Sandy bought a cheap cell phone for Maria and programmed both her home and cell numbers into speed dial. Then she drove to the trailer park to give the phone to Maria. The dirt road between the trailers was deserted. Still, the place made Sandy feel uneasy. She made sure the doors of her car were locked and didn't stop at Maria's trailer but continued to the one where Rosalita lived. If Maria wasn't there, Sandy would ask Rosalita to give the phone to her. Sandy walked up the steps to the door of the trailer and knocked. One of the older girls she'd seen previously cracked open the door. Sandy spoke in Spanish.
“Is Maria here?” she asked.
“No,” the girl answered in English.
“How about your mother?” Sandy replied, also in English. “I'm Ms. Lincoln from the high school.”
“She's taking care of the baby,” the girl answered.
Sandy couldn't see anything inside the trailer. She took the phone from her purse.
“Can you ask your mother to give this cell phone to Maria?”
“I'll do it,” the girl replied. “She's coming over to help fix supper.”
“Okay. Tell Maria to call me as soon as she gets it. My number is marked in her directory with my name. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” The girl nodded with a slightly disgusted expression on her face. “I know how a cell phone works.”
Sandy heard a chain rattle as the door was locked. She slowly turned away. Something wasn't right about the way the girl acted.
As she left the trailer park, Sandy slowed down when she reached Maria's trailer. There were two pickup trucks and a beat-up car parked in front. Lights shone from two of the trailer's three windows. Sandy suddenly wanted to get away as fast as she could. She pressed down on the accelerator and left in a cloud of dust.
Early the next morning Sandy went to Maria's homeroom class. The students hadn't arrived. The homeroom teacher was a young woman named Ms. Randolph who taught algebra II, trigonometry, and calculus. Sandy told her she needed to see Maria and sat on the front row to wait. The large room was also used by the school chorus. In the back corner was the telltale black orb that concealed a camera.
“How is Maria?” Ms. Randolph asked.
“What do you know?” Sandy replied, not sure whether she could trust the young woman.
“I know she's pregnant and about the court cases. My boyfriend is a lawyer with the public defender's office. When I told him people were getting served with legal papers in the faculty lounge, he checked the records.”
“Nothing has been resolved,” Sandy replied.
“I'm sorry. I think it's terrible, and my boyfriend says this case could have an impact on teachers all over the country.”
Before Sandy could respond, two members of the cheerleading squad entered the room. Seeing Sandy, they came over to her. While the three of them chatted, Sandy kept one eye on the door. The tardy bell sounded just as Maria came in. Sandy immediately escorted her into the hallway. There was another surveillance camera directly overhead.
“Did you get the phone?”
“Yes.”
“I told Rosalita's daughter to tell you to call me to test it out,” Sandy said.
“She didn't. But everyone was upset last night.”
“Why?”
“Rosalita heard that Emilio has come back, and he's mad at Rosalita's husband.”
“Why?”
“Something to do with money. Rosalita didn't tell me.”
“Is Rosalita's husband on the road?”
“Yes, and he won't be back until the middle of next week.”
Sandy's mind was whirring.
“Is it dangerous for you to be at your father's house?”
“I don't know. My father doesn't want Emilio to come there, but the lock on our door wouldn't keep him out. It's the same at Rosalita's house.”
“Maybe someone should talk to the police.”
“What good would that do?” Maria asked, shrugging her shoulders.
“I understand. Go to homeroom, and I'll talk to you later.”
Sandy paced back and forth in the hall for the few minutes she had to wait until students streamed out on the way to their first-period classes. Returning to the choral room, she approached Ms. Randolph.
“I've been thinking. Could your boyfriend find out if there are criminal charges against someone?”
“Ted is a defense attorney, not a prosecutor, but I could ask him. What's the person's name?”
“Uh, Emilio. I don't know a last name, but he's in his thirties. When he's in town he spends a lot of time at the trailer park where Maria lives. It's the one off Haggler Road.”
“Without a last name, it may not be possible to find out anything. What do I say when he asks me why I want to know about this guy?”
“That I'm concerned about Maria, and Emilio is the big reason.”
“Okay, I'll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.”
Sandy walked down the hallway to her classroom. The best way to remove Emilio as a possible threat to Maria and the other families in the trailer park would be his arrest. A criminal charge of statutory rape would be a straightforward way to do so. Sandy had sympathized with Maria's early reluctance to talk to the police, but the situation had changed.
Later that afternoon during cheerleading practice, Sandy received a text message from Jeremy:
Hearing in Atlanta rescheduled for next Wed. at 9:00 a.m. Sorry for the early morning time, but the judge set it. Dusty Abernathy is coming to Rutland on Monday afternoon to meet Maria. Details to follow.
L
ater that evening Sandy received a telephone call at home from an unfamiliar number.
“Sandy, this is Mimi Randolph. I talked to my boyfriend about Emilio. He couldn't find an arrest warrant for anyone with that name, but he talked to some of his contacts in the Hispanic community. Several people knew a man named Emilio. No one liked him.”
