Together With You (23 page)

“I don't assume anything, Dr. Tremaine.” She sounded matter-of-fact, even a little tired. He guessed her to be in her fifties, a good sign because it suggested she was experienced. On the other hand, she could have an axe to grind, or maybe a past failure that made her overly suspicious. As a physician, Ryan was required by law to report any suspected child abuse. He'd been in the position just once, and the weight of it still burned in his brain. He was judge and jury when he made that phone call. As things turned out, he'd done the right thing.

“You have a difficult job,” he said to Ms. Stuart.

“At times.”

He was tired of dancing around the visit. “I'd like to know exactly what you're investigating.”

“We received an anonymous tip that Penny was placed in a dangerous situation. I'm here to check out her home life and to talk about an incident at the beach.”

“What incident?”

Ms. Stuart raised a brow. “You don't know about it?”

“I know Carly took Penny to the beach last Sunday.”

“Were you there?”

“Part of the time.”

“So you don't know everything that happened?”

“Not everything, but I know Carly. She'd never put Penny in danger. I have to say—” Jaw tight, he took a breath. “I'm relatively certain Denise made this report without the facts and for reasons of her own. I'm going to be blunt, Ms. Stuart. Denise wants custody. That isn't going to happen. This is Penny's home. She's my daughter, and she's loved and safe.”

“That's why I'm here, Dr. Tremaine—to make sure Penny's safe.”

“Then we're in agreement.”

“Yes, we are. And I assure you, this isn't my first rodeo.” She gave him another strong look. “I've been in the middle of family disputes more times than I can count. If Penny is in good hands, you have nothing to fear. On the other hand, the person who reported the endangerment believes Penny almost drowned.”

“That's impossible!”

“I'd like to talk to Penny before we go any further.”

“Of course.”

Ms. Stuart opened a portfolio and made some notes. As she capped her pen, Penny emerged from the hallway with Carly hurrying after her. Ryan took in Penny's clean face and wet hair, strode forward, and cupped her chin so he could check her eyes. They were red-rimmed but clear. She was no worse for wear, but Carly looked awful. Dressed in her painting clothes, now spattered with ketchup, mustard, and paint, she approached them with a look as detached as the one worn by Ms. Stuart.

She'd worn that same look while talking to the detective about Bette's murder. He knew her well now, and that look was a mask. Worried, he turned from Carly and focused on Penny. “This is Ms. Stuart. She wants to talk to you about going with Carly to the beach.”

“Okay.” Penny waved at her. “Do you like mermaids?”

“I like mermaids just fine,” Ms. Stuart said with a smile.

“There's one in my tent.”

When Penny scooted away to fetch one of her favorite toys, Ryan called after her. “Tell Ms. Stuart everything that happened.”

Penny didn't answer. Not a surprise considering her attention span.

“Ryan?” Carly sounded tentative, even worried. “Ms. Stuart might not know about Penny's background.”

He hoped Ms. Stuart was knowledgeable about FASD, because explaining it was a challenge. “Penny has some special needs. If we could chat a few minutes—”

“There's no need,” she said, almost kindly. “The reporting party provided that information.”

Ryan frowned. “I'm not sure Denise understands—”

“I'll speak to Penny first,” Ms. Stuart said. “Then I'll sit down with you. Now, if you'll wait somewhere else, Penny and I will get to know each other.”

Penny popped out of the tent with her mermaid doll. “This is Annabelle. I named her myself.”

“She's pretty,” Ms. Stuart replied.

Carly met his glance, and they slipped outside to the table where he and Denise had interviewed Carly all those weeks ago. So much in his life had changed for the better, and it was because of her. His heart swelled with that forever feeling he didn't believe in, at least not the way she did. She'd brought light and love to his home, but looking at her now, he saw the pinched look of someone in pain.

He pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. You've had a rough day.”

“It's been awful.” She collapsed onto the cushion, slumped forward, and massaged her temples with bone-white fingers.

Ryan had no right to put his arm around her shoulders or even squeeze her hand. But at that moment, Carly was hurting, and he didn't give a rip about boundaries. He shifted his chair closer to hers, sat, and lifted his arm, but before he touched her, she scooted her chair a foot away.

C
arly longed to rest her head on Ryan's shoulder, but she couldn't allow herself that comfort—not with Ms. Stuart in the house, and not with guilt and a secret eating her alive. Thanks to Denise's accusations, Carly was reliving the nightmare of Allison's disappearance, something she had never mentioned to Ryan. Her supervisor's voice echoed in her mind.
“
We all make mistakes, Carly.
The trick here is to learn from it.”

Apparently Carly hadn't learned a thing, because she loved Penny as if she were her own, and she loved Ryan, too.

“This is because of Denise,” he said, hunkering forward with his foot tapping.

“Wrong or not, she thinks something bad happened.” Carly's conscience was clear concerning Penny, but she was far from innocent when it came to Allison, a problem now because that guilt still stewed in her belly. If she didn't shake it off, Louanne Stuart would see it and assume Carly was hiding something. All this because Denise had gone nuclear instead of speaking directly to Ryan. “Do you have any idea what she reported?”

“Something about Penny almost drowning at the beach.”

Carly bolted upright. “
Drowning
? She barely touched the water!”

“I know. It's insane. But this is Penny. Who knows what story she made up?”

“This is awful.” Even worse than Carly had imagined. “It could come down to my word against Penny's.”

They commiserated for the next fifteen minutes, each of them speculating about Penny's thought processes without having the facts. People with FASD experienced life through a different lens, sometimes a kaleidoscope of lenses that colored every word they heard, or didn't hear.

The slider opened with a metallic whoosh. Carly and Ryan both stood and saw Ms. Stuart, her face as blank as before. “Would you come inside, please?”

Carly led the way with Ryan behind her. Once indoors, Ms. Stuart motioned them to the kitchen table where her portfolio was open, her notes exposed and ready to be addressed.

Carly and Ryan sat across from each other, traded a look, then focused on Ms. Stuart putting on a pair of black reading glasses. “Penny is playing in her tent,” she said, looking over the frames at Carly. “That's an excellent device for a child with special sensitivities. She told me it's her quiet place, and I had to be invited inside.”

“That's the rule,” Carly replied.

“The reporting party told us you were the nanny. But in talking to Penny, I see far more than the usual nanny skills. If I may ask, what exactly is your background?”

Before Carly could reply, Ryan touted her qualifications. Ms. Stuart made a few more notes, then turned back to Carly. “I suppose that's what confuses me about Penny's statement. You have tremendous knowledge. Knowing what you do, it seems odd that you'd take Penny into the waves—”

“I didn't.”

“She told me otherwise.” The social worker removed the glasses, then laced her hands over the notes. “I fully understand the complex
relationship with the party reporting the endangerment. Stories become exaggerated, and we all have our motives.”

“Yes,” Ryan said firmly.

Ms. Stuart shot him a quelling look, then turned back to Carly. “What concerns me is Penny's account of the day. She said you put her in an orange life vest, then took her out past the waves where she swam by herself. I believe the phrase was, ‘Carly says I swim like a fish, and I did. I went underwater and everything.'”

“That's absurd!” Ryan shoved back in the chair so hard the legs screeched against the hardwood floor. “I was there. I saw her. Her hair was dry and brushed. She was—”

“Allow me to finish, Dr. Tremaine.” Ms. Stuart lifted one brow. “As you admitted earlier, you weren't there the entire time.”

“No, but this is crazy! Denise is—”

“Ryan, stop.” Carly appreciated his support, but the moment called for diplomacy. “Ms. Stuart is doing her job. I'm not afraid of the facts.”

He settled back in the chair, but his eyes stayed on her face. “I'm not either, but the accusation is outrageous.”

Carly angled her chair to face Ms. Stuart. “For the record, I did
not
take Penny into the ocean. We played in the sand, and she got her ankles wet. That's all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Oh, how Carly hated being questioned like this! It was too close to that awful moment in her boss's office.
“Are
you sure you don't know where Allison went? Are you sure she didn't give you a hint?”

Ms. Stuart picked up her pen. “In that case, I have a question. If you didn't take Penny into the water, why was she wearing a life vest?”

Carly hesitated. “As a precaution.”

The social worker made a note. “So you put her in a life vest to play in the sand?”

“She's unpredictable—”

“And you were worried.”

“A little.” Carly was always worried about Penny, in part because she couldn't forget her mistakes with Allison.

Ms. Stuart sat poised with her pen high, perhaps ready to write “guilty as charged” on her yellow legal pad. “Here's my problem, Carly. You understand FASD far better than most nannies and far better than I do. If you were worried enough to put Penny in a life vest, why go to the beach at all? I have to wonder if you're a little overconfident because of your knowledge.”

Overconfident?
Since Allison, she worried about every decision she made. “That's not accurate.”

“Is there another explanation?”

“Yes.” She started to say Penny made up stories, but tears flooded her eyes.
Allison, where are you?

Ryan's gaze pierced her from across the table. “Carly, there's no guilt here. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“But I did. Not with Penny, but . . . but before.” She pressed her knuckles to her mouth to fight a sob, but it came out in a groan. “Back in Lexington at Sparrow House . . . with a girl named Allison. I h-hate what happened.”

Ms. Stuart placed her strong, brown hand on Carly's shoulder. “Honey, let it out.”

Why did she have to collapse in front of this woman acting as judge and jury? “I feel so guilty.”

“Tell me what happened at Sparrow House.” Ms. Stuart gave Carly's shoulder a squeeze. “And call me Louanne.”

Carly blurted out the whole ugly story. “It was Friday. Allison was having a bad day, and so was I.” Carly's bones ached with the memory of the headache building behind her eyes, the fatigue, the start of menstrual cramps. When she spoke, her Kentucky accent thickened with every word. “I had plans to leave for Boomer, that's my home county. I loved my job, and I loved those girls, but I needed some breathing space. You know how it is.”

“I do,” Louanne replied. “Sometimes you have to shut the door.”

“That's right.” Carly wished she had shut it sooner. “But I didn't do that. I lived in at Sparrow House. I wanted to leave early that day, but things kept happening—little things, but someone had to handle them. When Allison came to my room around six o'clock, the door was open and I was packing. She wanted to come home with me. She said she just had to get away. But so did I. I was at low ebb, so I told her no.”

“That's reasonable,” Louanne assured her.

“Yes, but I should never have given her the idea that we were close enough for that kind of weekend. Allison started shouting that I didn't care about her. I lost it. I yelled back.” She sniffed hard. “Instead of taking the time to calm her down or to take her to the house leader filling in for the weekend, I left her.”

Louanne nodded, her expression full of understanding. “Sometimes we just run out of gas.”

“Yes, but she needed me.” Carly wiped her eyes with her fist. “The next day, when I was home in Boomer, the house leader called and told me Allison was missing. One of the other girls saw her get in a car with a man she barely knew. We learned later that they spent the night together, then he drove her to the bus stop. She bought a ticket for Chicago, and that was the last I ever heard of her.”

“Oh, Carly,” Louanne murmured. “I'm so sorry.”

“I'd do anything to have that night back.”
Anything at all. Lord, what will it take?
She tried to raise her eyes from her lap but couldn't. “That's how I know I'm not overconfident with Penny. I'm scared to death of making the mistake I made with Allison.”

Ryan's voice filled her ears. “You're human, Carly. We all make mistakes.”

She dragged her gaze up from her lap, saw compassion in his eyes, and felt almost forgiven.

Louanne broke in. “I see now why Penny was wearing the life vest. You're not overconfident at all. You're overly cautious.”

“I suppose I am,” Carly admitted. “Penny got her toes wet, but we didn't swim the way she told Denise. FASD kids make up stories. It's part of the condition. I hope you believe me.”

“I do.” Louanne straightened her glasses. “Kids make up stories to protect themselves. So do a lot of adults. I hear it every day, and I'm sure you did, too. It's my job to dig down to the facts, which is why I'd like to know more for my report. Do you have any idea why Penny spun that particular story?”

So that was Carly's secret. Ryan sympathized with her, deeply, but her guilt surprised him. How many times had she told him to forgive himself for contributing to Penny's FASD? She'd preached it several times, and here she was—as remorseful and self-condemning as he was.

The guilt didn't make sense in the context of her Christian faith. If she believed in a Savior who had died for her sins, why was she carrying that burden on her own shoulders? Wasn't she supposed to roll it off and shout hallelujah, as if nothing had ever happened? Where was her faith now? Or more to the point, what was her faith in? Did she believe in God, or was her faith a remnant from her childhood, the stuff of memorized prayers and the habit of going to church?

Ryan didn't share her faith, but he cared deeply for Carly. She didn't need to know what he thought, but she very much needed absolution. After being helpless in the presence of her tears, he could finally do something. “Let's talk to Penny,” he said to Louanne. “If we ask the right questions, she might reveal something.”

“I hope so,” Carly said. “A lot happened that day.”

“Get her,” Louanne said to Ryan.

He crossed the family room to her tent, crouched, and peered through the open flaps. Penny was in the corner surrounded by her stuffed animals, including Miss Rabbit, Lance, Joey the Kangaroo,
and the dolphin, whose name he didn't recall. Without thinking twice, he reached for Lance.

“Miss Penny!” he said in a growly voice. “Come with me!”

Giggling, Penny scrambled after Lance, took Ryan's hand, and pulled him to the table, where she climbed onto Carly's lap. “I'm hungry.”

Carly patted her shoulder. “We'll have a snack in a few minutes.”

“Now!”

“In a minute,” Carly said, hugging her. “Miss Louanne and your daddy want to ask you some questions.”

Ryan kept Lance in his lap. If Penny didn't open up, he'd make a fool of himself and bring in the lion. “So,” he said to her, “you had fun at the beach. What did you do?”

“We made a castle.”

“Did you go in the water?” he asked.

“It was cold.” Penny shivered to make her point. “Fish like it and so do mermaids. Annabelle is my mermaid friend. She swims in the ocean. I saw her.”

Glancing occasionally at Penny, Louanne scribbled notes.

“Where did you see Annabelle?” Ryan asked.

“In the waves.” Penny kicked the table leg while she spoke. “I wanted to be with her, because she lives in the ocean. Aunt DeeDee took my mommy's ashes to the ocean. She lives in heaven now, and I want to visit her.”

Ryan tossed a look at Louanne to be sure she heard the link. When she nodded, he continued. “Did you tell Aunt DeeDee about Annabelle?”

Penny shook her head. “No, Annabelle's my secret friend. But I told Aunt DeeDee about the waves.”

He didn't want to ask leading questions, but Penny understood best when people were direct. “Did you tell her you swam in the waves?”

“It wasn't a lie.” She buried her face against Carly's neck, then mumbled, “
My feet
swam in them.”

With his eyebrows raised, Ryan looked pointedly at Louanne, who capped her pen. “Thank you, Penny. I understand now.”

Penny twisted her neck for a better view of Carly. “Can we have cookies now?”

“Yes, we can.” Carly lowered Penny to the floor, then spoke to Louanne. “I'm sure you have a busy schedule, but you're welcome to a cup of coffee.”

“No, thank you.” Louanne scrawled something on her business card and handed it to Ryan. “This is the case number. You can request a copy of the report in ten days or so, but I assure you, there's nothing to worry about.”