Firestone (33 page)

“
All rise!” the bailiff
said.

The judge came in from the room behind the
bench. He sat down at the desk and looked at Jeraine, Tanesha, and
their lawyer. Yvonne and Rodney were sitting in the seats behind
them. He looked at the table where Annette’s lawyers stood. He
gestured to Annette’s lawyers.

“
I was under the
impression that the mother would be here,” the judge
said.

“
Yes, sir—” one of
Annette’s lawyers started.

“
I continued this case
from this morning because you assured me that the mother was on her
way here,” the judge said.

“
Yes, sir,” Annette’s
lawyer said. “The weather delayed her plane
and . . .”

The judge nodded.

“
I award custody of the
minor Jabari Wilson to his father, Jeraine Wilson,” the judge
said.

Annette’s lawyers started to yell in
protest.

“
After reviewing the
emergency room reports and statements from the doctors, I’m
terminating the mother’s parental rights over the minor Jabari
Wilson.”

Annette’s lawyers continued to yell.

“
Bailiff?” the judge
asked. “Remove them from my court.”

The judge looked at Jeraine and Tanesha over
his reading glasses.

“
You’ll work out a plan
for him to transition to living in your house,” the judge said.
“Slowly. He’s happy and safe at the Smith home. Take advantage of
that. The social workers will help you. It’s what they do. Bring
the plan to me by the end of the day. I’ll review it and order on
it tomorrow morning.”

The judge pointed at Jeraine.

“
Don’t fuck this up,” the
judge said. “You’ve got this one chance. Period.”

“
Yes, sir,” Jeraine said.
“Thank you, sir. And the restrictions on my parents?”

“
Lifted.” The judge signed
something on his desk. “Your parents are now allowed to spend time
with the boy. But slowly, don’t overwhelm the boy. He’s been very
ill and . . .”

The judge nodded, banged his gavel, and left
the courtroom. Jeraine turned to Tanesha.

“
Well?” Jeraine looked
panicked.

“
Let’s go tell him!”
Yvonne leaned forward. “He’ll be so excited.”

Tanesha smiled at Jeraine. In the warmth of
her smile, he grinned. She hugged him. When she let him go, Rodney
and Yvonne hugged him. Their lawyer shook his hand.

“
Ready for the press?”
Tanesha asked in his ear.

Jeraine nodded. They left the courtroom and
went down the hall, where the press waited for them.

“
There are no winners
here,” Jeraine said what they had practiced. “I’m just grateful my
son is healthy.”

The reporters screamed questions about his
sobriety and his songs and Annette and . . . They
were loud and the lights flashed.

“
Thank you for your
questions and interest in our problems,” Jeraine said. “But Miss T
and I are going to see our son. I’m sure you
understand.”

He raised his hand to wave and they walked
away. The bodyguards helped them to the elevator.

“
How was that?” Jeraine
asked.

“
I’m proud of you,”
Tanesha said.

Rodney grunted, and Yvonne put her hand on
Jeraine’s back. Jeraine smiled. They made it to the garage, where
another crowd of reporters were waiting. Jeraine waved, and the
bodyguards helped them to their SUV. They drove out of the garage
and onto Fourteenth Avenue.

Jeraine started to laugh.

“
What?” Tanesha
asked.

“
Just getting what I
want,” Jeraine said.

Tanesha grinned at him, and they drove to
see Jabari.

Monday afternoon — 2:25 p.m.

“
Good Lord,” Tanesha said
under her breath.

At the sight of her father’s truck, a shout
went up among the reporters waiting for her at the Colfax entrance
to the Anschutz Medical Campus. The reporters moved into the
driveway so Tanesha would have to speak with them or run them over.
She decided not to turn into the campus. She continued down Colfax,
passed all the reporters, and turned in the back way. Of course,
another group of them were waiting for her at the student parking
lot.

She pulled up to the barrier and rolled down
her window to get the parking ticket.

“
Miss T! Miss T!” shouted
a woman. “Annette is accusing you of stealing Jabari! She’s
demanding that the Denver Police to arrest you!”

A man pushed the woman out of the way.

“
What do you say to the
accusation . . .”

The rest of his question was lost in his
argument with the other reporter. Luckily, the parking ticket
printed. She reached for the ticket, but a leather-gloved hand
grabbed it first. A reporter from Fox News held her ticket.

“
Excuse me, I need to get
to class,” Tanesha said.

“
Annette says you blocked
her from coming into the courtroom,” the reporter said.
“She . . .”

The car behind her honked its horn.

“
The ticket.” Tanesha held
her hand out. “Now.”

Someone else screamed another question, and
someone said that Jeraine looked high on television. Was Jeraine
using again? Why would the judge trust her over Annette? Had they
paid the judge off?

Tanesha punched the machine, and another
ticket began to print. While the reporters screamed, Tanesha waited
for the ticket. It had almost finished printing when the reporter
tried to grab it again. Tanesha beat him to the punch and got the
ticket.

The reporters screamed question after
question as the barrier rose and she drove into the parking lot.
She turned right and drove down a long row of cars. A woman driving
toward her gave her the stink eye.

“
What?” Tanesha
mouthed.

The woman pointed to the reporters. Tanesha
shook her head and sneered. The woman laughed. Tanesha turned at
the end of the row and parked. For a moment, she rested her head
against the big steering wheel of her father’s old truck. It was
quiet in the truck, safe, and she didn’t have to deal with these
vultures.

“
Not vultures,” she
repeated what Valerie Lipson always said. “Just people who have
mouths to feed. They need to make their
living . . .”

“
Off the suffering of
others,” Tanesha added.

She heard a noise and saw the reporters
running in her direction.

“
Vultures,” Tanesha said
under her breath.

She grabbed her backpack and left the quiet
comfort of the truck. She jogged to the nearest building, where she
knew they couldn’t follow her. She went down a long hallway.
Turning, she saw that the television was on in the small sitting
area.

“
Annette states that she
was barred from entering the courtroom,” the news reporter said.
“She is specifically claiming that Jeraine’s wife, Tanesha Smith,
daughter of Rodney Smith, who as you know spent more than twenty
years in prison for a murder he did not commit, has done everything
in her power to disrupt her connection with her son. Annette has
filed suit against Tanesha and is encouraging the Denver Police to
investigate her claim that . . .”

They ran a piece of video that looked like
it was from Annette’s television show. Annette slapped Jeraine. She
held a red dagger of a long fingernail in his face. One of the
bodyguards got her out of the way. As soon as they’d passed,
Annette went after Jeraine’s back.

Tanesha groaned.

“
You sound like an
asshole.” a voice said. Tanesha looked down to see a young man
sitting on the couch in front of her.

“
Well, if she says it, it
must be true,” Tanesha said.

She gestured to the television. They’d
stopped the tape on an image of Annette looking insane — her hair
stood on end, her teeth were bared, and you could see the whites of
her eyes. Tanesha nodded and continued down the hallway.

She hopped the elevator up to a bridge
between buildings. If Fin had saved her a seat, she’d just make it
to lecture. She jogged across the bridge and through the maze of
hallways. She paused at the doorway to the lecture hall to catch
her breath.

“
Thanks,” Tanesha said
when she sat down next to Fin.

“
How’d it go?” Fin
asked.

“
Good,” Tanesha said. “He
gave us custody. Jer’s working on the transition plan with Mom and
the social worker.”

“
But?”

“
I just heard that
Annette’s suing me.”

Fin gave her a grave nod.

“
Should I worry?” Tanesha
asked.

“
I wouldn’t.” Fin
smiled.

“
If I can have your
attention . . .” The professor started
class.

“
Why?” Tanesha
whispered.

“
She’s going to have her
own troubles to worry about soon enough,” Fin said.

“
What?” Tanesha
asked.

Fin winked at her. He usually winked when
she knew the answer. Tanesha thought for a moment.

“
She’s not Jabari’s
mother,” Tanesha said.

Fin pointed at her and nodded.

“
When?” Tanesha
asked.

“
Sooner than you’d think.”
Fin gave her a charming smile.

He gestured toward the teacher, who had
started lecturing. Tanesha took out her notebook and pen, and
settled down to work.

~~~~~~~~

Monday afternoon — 3:25 p.m.

“
Thanks for coming,” Sandy
said.

She held the door to her salon open to let
Seth inside.

“
Are you okay?” Seth
asked.

Sandy gave a quick nod. She gestured toward
the back of the salon and Seth followed her to the back.

“
Did you have lunch?” Seth
asked.

Sandy shook her head. He was about to
suggest they go get something when he saw the box and the stack of
bound books sitting on the round table in the back of the salon. He
looked at Sandy.

“
My mom, I mean Andy,
she . . .”

Seth’s eyes scanned Sandy’s face. She looked
exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

“
I haven’t had much
sleep,” Sandy said.

She tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind
her ear. Seth nodded. He went to the table. He reached out for a
book.

“
Delphie said I would find
what I was looking for, and why Andy was killed, in this box.”
Sandy nodded. “Remember?”

“
I remember that we talked
about a box on Saturday,” Seth said. “We looked at this box when we
were in the room.”

“
Just the outside of it.”
Sandy nodded. “It used to hold paper for a fax machine. Can you
imagine?”

“
What did you find?” Seth
started to ask at the same time Sandy said, “I’m not really
sure . . .”

He stopped talking. His eyebrows pinched
together with concern for her. She read his concern and nodded.

“
I guess I do seem a
little crazy.” She smiled. “They’re journals, I think. Nothing’s
dated except for the last one. That’s dated the day I went to see
her.”

“
The day she
died?”

“
Day before,” Sandy said.
“I think. I don’t know. She wrote and wrote that day. She said that
I should read the others first and the last one would make sense.
So I did.”

Sandy picked up a book.

“
I marked them in order
and . . .” Sandy nodded. “Delphie said they would
explain why Andy was killed . . .”

Sandy set a book down on the table and
picked up another.

“
I marked them one,
two, . . .” Sandy nodded.

“
But?” Seth
asked.

“
I don’t know what they
mean,” Sandy said. “Or how they explain anything
and . . .”

“
And?” Seth
asked.

“
I feel like she wants me
to know something,” Sandy said. “She expects
me
to understand. Me. Her child. And
I . . .”

Sandy shook her head and her eyes welled
with tears.

“
I’m failing her,” Sandy
said.

Seth pulled Sandy to him. She cried into his
shoulder for a few moments before her natural defiance
returned.

“
No,” Sandy said.
“No.”

She pushed him away.

“
I’m going to figure this
out,” Sandy said.

“
What can I do?” Seth
asked.

“
You’re the great Magic
O’Malley,” Sandy said. “You can help me figure this
out.”

Seth’s eyes scanned her face.

“
Please?” Sandy
asked.

“
What if it doesn’t make
sense?” Seth asked. “What if she was crazy? I’m sorry to say it,
Sandy. I loved her, more than I can ever know or express. I
still
love her. I will
love her until the day I die.”

Seth touched his chest, and Sandy
nodded.

“
Will you try?” Sandy
asked. “For me?”

“
Of course,” Seth nodded.
“Show me again.”

They turned to look at the table.

“
The books were stacked
inside the box,” Sandy said. “There were little things tucked into
the side — my baby hat, some booties, a photo album, some
newspapers and packing stuff.”