Authors: Kristin Lee Johnson
Tags: #Minnesota, #Family & Relationships, #Child Abuse, #General Fiction, #Adoption, #Social Workers
“Only child, “ Amanda said. “How about you?” Always deflect personal questions.
“Middle. So so middle. I had to sit in the middle of the backseat of our station wagon for every family vacation because my brothers would pummel each other if they sat together. I never complained, even though their hairy legs rubbed against me for three days when we went to the Grand Canyon. It just seemed easier to stay quiet. That’s a middle child for you.” Zoe leaned against the wall holding her coffee cup in both hands.
“Funny,” Amanda said, edging toward the door. Amanda had daydreamed about having a big brother when she walked into her high school on the first day, thinking that an older brother who played football would protect her from unnamed girls who were sure to commit terrible hazing acts. In reality, on the first day of high school she had been invisible.
“No siblings, huh?” Zoe said. “What was that like?” Zoe smiled kindly, assuming that there was no option other than two doting parents. That one question had revealed Zoe’s pleasant, middle class, intact family upbringing as clearly as a family movie. Amanda had never refined a good answer to family questions. In college she often responded with bitter sarcasm or just ignored the question altogether. But now she was making a concerted effort to lose the chip on her shoulder.
“It was just my mom and me,” Amanda said hesitatingly.
Zoe nodded kindly. “Working with families the way we do really makes you think about how you grew up, doesn’t it?” Amanda smiled in agreement. “It makes me realize that my mom making me come home at midnight on prom night wasn’t such a tragedy.”
Amanda was still hoping to make her way out, but Leah walked in, so Amanda was stuck in the room. “What wasn’t a tragedy?” Leah asked as she moved toward the coffee maker, cup in hand, but stopped when she saw there was fresh coffee coming.
“Having a twelve o’clock curfew on prom night,” Zoe said. “My parents were a little overprotective.”
“Holy crap, I guess so,” Leah said. “I was doing indecent things to my boyfriend, soon to be husband, soon after to be ex-husband, in his pickup while you were getting a good night kiss on your front doorstep.”
“My husband was my prom date too and we were doing more than kissing, but I was still home on time,” Zoe said, pulling the pitcher off the coffee maker and pouring herself and Leah a cup. “So what time did normal teenagers have to be home after the prom?”
Leah snorted. “Don’t ask me. Both of my parents were drunk for most of my adolescence, so I came home when I felt like it.” Someone else with a crazy life? Amanda relaxed a little, and she admired how Leah was able to talk about it with just the right balance of sarcasm and resolution.
“You’re mom is doing great now, though, right?” Zoe asked.
“Sober for seven years,” Leah said. “We go to the same meetings now.”
“Okay, well now I really need to know,” Zoe said. “How about you, Amanda? What was your prom night curfew?”
Amanda spent prom night in the emergency room with her mom, who had spiked a fever after her last round of chemo. Since she had no intention of going to her prom, the fever didn’t spoil anything but a night watching Harry Potter movies. “2:00 a.m.,” Amanda blurted.
“Well, there you go. That sounds more normal,” Zoe said.
“What year did you graduate again?” Leah asked.
“It was five years ago, “ Amanda said trying to make her way back to the door casually.
“Did you graduate with Steve Tubman?” Leah asked. “He’s my ex’s stepbrother, and is the cutest kid. You should date him, now that I think about it. I know he’s single, and If I wasn’t so angry at my ex every minute of the day I would call him to get Steve’s number.”
New dangerous territory. Amanda didn’t want to talk about her dating life any more than she wanted to talk about her home life. “I graduated from Apple Falls, not Terrance. Anyway, I should get some casenotes…” she said heading out the door.
“You don’t need to set up Amanda with anyone,” Zoe said with a smile. “I think that new county attorney is smitten.”
That got her attention. Amanda turned around and was so flustered that she knew she was blushing.
“Look at you!” Leah said. “You’re smitten too!”
Amanda tried to will the blood to leave her cheeks, but could not come up with any sort of response, as usual. This was not good. Leah would never let this go.
“Call me a cougar to use a horrible cliché, but he’s yummy.” Leah said.
Zoe grinned. “He is super cute, but Leah you would destroy his gentle spirit, and anyway, Amanda’s got dibs.”
“I don’t have dibs,” Amanda, said, suddenly regaining the power of speech. “He’s just a friend.” Old friend. True friend. Yummy friend… An image of her hands sliding over Jake’s naked back popped into her mind, and she looked away to keep them from somehow gazing into her dirty mind. “I’m going to work now.” Amanda walked away, realizing that she was completely busted.
“You love him …” Amanda heard Leah sing-song as she went back to her cube. Of course she loved him, in some sort of capacity she was unable to define, but there was no way she wanted anyone to know that, least of all Jacob.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A pretrial hearing is just a formal way to get the parties together one more time before the CHIPS trial, and to settle any discovery or other trial issues. Shouldn’t be a big deal,” Jacob said as he packed up his files to head up to the courtroom. He was wearing a suit, not just a jacket and tie, and he looked nervous, though he was trying to act like he wasn’t.
“What do you need from me?” Amanda asked.
“I think you just need to sit by me when we talk to him and make sure that I’m saying everything correctly. You know your file way better than I do, so you’ll understand the social work stuff.” Jake held the door open for her, and she walked through.
They headed up to the courtroom on the third floor where they would be having the hearing. Chuck Thomas was already there, chatting with the bailiff about turkey hunting. Skip Huseman was not there yet. Jake and Amanda strolled the hallways, Amanda looking out the window and Jake reviewing his file occasionally.
Skip Huseman arrived forty-five minutes late and barely glanced at Jacob. He breezed by the bailiff and Chuck Thomas, saying, “We’re ready to go in.”
The bailiff, a longtime sheriff’s deputy with dozens of grandkids that he bragged about to anyone who would listen, stood up and followed Huseman. “Ready for the judge, already? Aren’t you going to meet with Mann and the gal first?” Jake and Amanda had moved toward the bailiff’s desk assuming that Skip would accompany them to a meeting room to hammer out issues about evidence and witnesses.
“I said we’re ready now.” Skip said. Edgy. His chill made Amanda very nervous. They followed the bailiff and Skip into the court room silently. Amanda and Jake sat at the table on the left, Skip and Chuck, minus any of Skip’s associates, sat on the right.
“All rise,” the bailiff said, and Amanda stood up, once again feeling like she was in a TV courtroom. A judge walked out that Amanda did not recognize. Jake looked down with what Amanda realized was a suppressed grin. “The Honorable Judge Matthew Bach presiding. Court will come to order. You may be seated.”
“Good morning,” Judge Bach said and nodded to both tables.
“Good morning, Judge,” Skip said, his voice thick with schmooze. “And welcome to my hometown, as coincidence would have it.” Ballsy, Amanda thought. He may as well pee in the corner for as much as he was trying to claim his territory.
“This is the case in the matter of the welfare of the child of Charles and Vivian Thomas, court file JV-78778.” Amanda was pleased that the judge was not going to acknowledge any claim staking. “Please note your appearances for the record.”
“Jacob Mann, two N’s, Terrence County Attorney’s office.”
“Amanda Danscher, Terrence County Social Services.” The judge’s head popped up and looked at her a beat too long. Judge Bach appeared to be in his early to mid forties, with graying blonde hair and a soothing voice like a radio announcer. This judge was familiar looking, and Amanda got lost in her thoughts trying to place him.
“I expect to call both social workers,” Jacob was saying, which brought Amanda back to the present. Judge Bach looked at her again, or maybe he was looking at Jacob. She had completely lost track of what was happening.
“We’ll set the final hearing for May 4th,” the judge said. “We’ll get an order from today in just a moment.” A petite clerk popped up from the desk next to the judge and moved to the room behind the courtroom to make copies of the order she had just printed.
Jacob looked at Amanda with his eyebrows raised and a small smile. He looked pleased, but Amanda hadn’t a clue why.
The bailiff stood and moved toward the judge. “Permission to approach, Judge?”
Judge Bach stood and leaned across to shake the bailiff’s hand. “Good to see you, Ed.”
Ed, the bailiff, shook Judge Bach’s hand with both of his. “Sorry to hear about your mom, Matt.”
They were talking loud enough that it was impossible not to hear, but it still felt like they were eavesdropping.
“Thanks, Ed. We were praying for her to go in the end, but it was still really tough.”
“I know Ellie said that she was relieved for you,” Ed said. “She said you barely left her side, and that’s too much when you’re the only one.”
The judge looked down in response, and Amanda glanced sideways to see that Jacob was listening too. The clerk returned and brought them copies of the court order from the hearing. Chuck Thomas took the order and leaned toward Skip to say something. He gave a one word answer, snapped his briefcase closed, and walked out of the room. Chuck Thomas followed looking angry.
“That went well,” Jacob said, as they gathered their papers slowly enough so they did not have to talk to Skip and Chuck in the hallway. “Judge Bach is a good judge, and even though he’s from here, he’s not from here. He actually lives about twenty miles out of town, but he’s based in St. Paul. Could you see how frustrated Huseman was that we had a different judge?” Amanda could only nod because she hadn’t paid attention to anything. “This judge is a good guy,” Jake said.
Trustworthy
, Amanda thought. Safe.
“I’m glad you feel good about him, “ Amanda said.
He stopped to look at Amanda. “You didn’t pay attention to this hearing at all. You were a million miles away.”
She paused a moment too long. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Are you worried about testifying?” His eyes were wide and serious.
She met his eyes and felt her stomach drop a bit. “It’ll be okay. I can handle it.”
“Oh, I know you can handle it. You’re a natural witness because you’re smart and articulate, and very likable. I just don’t want you to worry about it.” They stopped by the elevator, and he shifted his books to his other arm to push the button for the basement.
“I’m fine.” Amanda said, warmed by his compliments. “And thank you.”
* * *
Driving home that night, Amanda’s thoughts wandered back to Judge Bach. She remembered how Max had talked in their last staff meeting about how sometimes foster care just makes things worse for kids, because it shows them what they could have had. Amanda had always known that her life was not normal, but she had never spent much time thinking about what could have been. Would she be the same person if she had happy, healthy, normal parents? What if she had a blonde brother who was a senior when she was a sophomore and they blasted their music as they drove to school together? Who would she have been if she weren’t alone?
She turned off Main Street and drove toward the railroad tracks. Amanda had not visited the house for several weeks because she just didn’t know what to do about it. A part of her thought she was delusional for thinking that the house belonged to her grandmother based on only the vaguest sketches of memories. Another part had no doubts. She pulled over onto the hardened crust of ice, sand and snow that lined many streets in the winter. Had her mother walked out that front door, never to return? Did she regret the estrangement? She imagined her mother carrying her inside when she was brand new, showing her off. What did her grandmother say? Was she proud? Her mother was eighteen when she had her. Does that mean her grandmother was angry with her? At some point, they got along well enough for Amanda to play at her house. Why did that end?
Amanda suddenly ached for answers. If there was someone else in her life, where was she now? Amanda thought about going to the door and meeting the person who lived inside. Would it be that easy to meet her grandmother, if her delusion was actually real?
Amanda got out of the car and walked across the street and up the driveway and looked at the butterflies attached to the siding by the garage. Shades of a lighter tan peeked through the current pinky brown siding. The front door was hollow looking wood and worn to splinters. Had she been on these steps before?
With a gulp, Amanda forced herself to knock. The sound was empty and cold—no footsteps or voices. There was a small square window in the door that appeared to be covered with newspaper. Blinds covered a larger window by the front door, and Amanda peaked through an opening in the blinds. The carpet in the living room was flat, dark green, and very old. There was no furniture on the carpet. The house was empty.
Empty. If Amanda’s grandmother had lived there, she wasn’t there anymore. Back to being alone.
The idea of going home to an empty apartment was miserable. Amanda took out her phone and dialed. Her friend answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Lucy. Can I bring you some dinner?”
* * *
During her first two years of college, Amanda spent a lot of her time with the guys on her dorm floor. She found them easier to talk to, because they didn’t want to talk about anything of substance most of the time. They watched football and college basketball and played Nintendo. As the token female, she fell into the role of preparing the food, but Amanda enjoyed it. She did not grow up with a lot of homemade meals, so she prepared the foods that were familiar: frozen pizza, French fries, and spaghetti with sauce from a jar. Her most requested meal was just a giant sub made from a large loaf of French bread and deli meat, but the guys loved it. Since Lucy was still on bed rest and forced to lie on her left side most of the day, Amanda stopped at the grocery store and bought ingredients for her famous sub since it would be easy to eat lying down.