Authors: Beth Neff
“You're saying that what Lauren says happened to her is not possible?”
“No. I mean yes. It's not possible.”
Cassie is waiting. She is sure now that Nancy Bobbitt will ask the right question, that Cassie will finally get the chance to tell someone about the cards that she saw Lauren steal. The secret buzzes in Cassie's chest like an angry hornet, but she doesn't know how to let it out. She is embarrassed that she hasn't told anybody before but thinks it must be related to all this, even if she's not quite clear on the connection. Should she say, “And besides, Lauren is a thief”? Don't they already know that?
Cassie's thoughts are interrupted by Nancy Bobbitt. “Cassie, I want to understand exactly what you're saying. You are saying that you believe Lauren made this up?”
“Yes.”
“And what reason would she have for doing this, do you think?”
“She . . . didn't want to stay here. She thought this was a way out.”
“You believe Lauren made this up so she could have an excuse to review her placement here?”
“I believe that what you said is a very nice way of putting it.”
S
ARAH IS SURPRISED
by how incredibly angry she feels reading the paper Nancy Bobbitt has handed to her. None of it has seemed exactly real until now. All of Lauren's unhappiness, her accusations, her refusal to work and to participate in sessions, her scheme to undermine the program, have all at once crystalized into this solid and permanent form, and Sarah is holding it in her hands. She knew all this, and yet she didn't know at all. She allowed herself to believe, even after she learned of the complaint, even when she was willing to get into Jason's car and leave it all behind, that it could never get this far. No, that's not true. She knew and did nothing about it anyway. She is just as much to blame as Lauren, and now it is too late.
“Where did this come from anyway? How did Lauren get it to you?”
Nancy Bobbitt glances at Tracy Hughes, raises her eyebrows. “Those are good questions, Sarah. My understanding is that Lauren sent some material to her parents that they provided to their family attorney so that he could draft a complaint. That complaint was then forwarded to us.”
“Material? What kind of material?”
“I think it is fair to say that Lauren wanted to demonstrate that Ellie and Grace have the kind of relationship that might lead a person to think that Grace would be capable of sexually harassing a young woman.”
“That she's a lesbian, right?”
“That's correct.”
“So, do you think that, just because someone is a lesbian, she's a molester or harasser or whatever Lauren is saying?”
“Well, it doesn't really matter what I thinkâ”
“But do you? Are they in trouble if people find out that they're lesbians?”
“Sarah, I don't think I'm in a position to answer that. We need to focus specifically on Lauren's complaint and determine its validity. Right now, in this particular instance, I need to know from you what you observed, if you have any reason to believe that sexual harassment may have occurred at this facility.”
If she tells them Lauren is lying, they will want to know how she knows, and she will be in just as much trouble as Lauren. If she doesn't, the program might be shut down, and she'd just end up in detention anyway. Nancy Bobbitt won't say if just being lesbians is enough to get the women in trouble even if they know that Lauren's complaint is a lie. Her mind is a buzz of static as if she is searching for a clear station, a specific formula of call letters and decimals that will weed out the screeching feedback in her ears and tell her what to do.
She's a coward. It's a simple as that. She's been a coward all along and there's nothing she can do about it now. Sarah has never despised herself any more than she does right this minute. She decides there is no point in doing anything other than just answering their questions, like she was told to do, and leave it at that.
“No, I do not have any reason to believe that sexual harassment occurred at this facility.”
“Were you, yourself, ever subject to any sexual harassment, any suggestion or implication that your status or safety would be affected by sexual behavior with anyone here?”
“No.”
“Is there anything else you'd like to tell us?”
“No.”
“Y
OU REALIZE,
L
AUREN,
that this is a very serious complaint?”
“I know.”
“Has anything changed since you first sent your letter and materials to your parents?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, has anything happened that might make you want to change your mind?”
Lauren hesitates, looks toward the open window, and, her chin lifted, back at Nancy Bobbitt. “I can't think of anything.”
“Okay. Then I think it's important for you to know that the other girls do not support your claims.”
Lauren shrugs. “Why would they? Maybe it wasn't happening to them. Or maybe they liked it.”
“Lauren, sexual harassment is, by definition, something you don't like. Maybe we need to become clear on what it is exactly that you are accusing Grace of.”
“What do you mean? What did the others say about it?”
“Maybe you'd like to describe a little bit about what it has felt like for you to be here?”
“Listen, I don't think you understand. Do you know that these women are lesbians?”
“What about that bothers you?”
“What about . . . ? You've got to be kidding. Are you saying you knew these women were lesbians and you still let them go ahead and have a program for young girls?”
“I'm not saying anything. I am asking you what
you're
saying. Now would be the time for you to describe specifically what events and behaviors you have found objectionable.”
“Everything. I find everything objectionable.”
“I need you to be more specific. Can you please describe an incident in which you felt yourself to be harassed?”
“They hate me. They've hated me from the beginning.”
Nancy sighs, presses two fingers to her forehead. “I can see that would be a terrible feeling, but you have made a specific charge of sexual harassment, Lauren. I'm going to need for you to describe a situation in which you felt yourself to be sexually harrassed.”
Lauren's mind is reeling. What more does this woman need to know?
This
is harassment. She is trying desperately to hold onto the anger, the frustration, but it is slipping away, burning her palm as it escapes from her grasp. She doesn't have to do this anymore. She
won't
do it.
“I don't know what else you want me to say. How can I prove to you that I've been sexually harassed if you won't believe me when I tell you I have? Isn't that always what happens? That they never believe the victim?” Lauren is starting to feel better, can feel the energy returning.
“Do you want me to describe every time that woman touched me, every time she tried to get me alone, her comments about my hair and my body whenever no one else was listening? Of course the others didn't see it or hear it. She's a pro. Probably been doing this for a long time. Everybody is just going to say that they don't believe it because they don't
want
to believe it, just wish it would go away. But it won't go away until you do something about it.”
Nancy Bobbitt is striving with all her might to keep her face expressionless. When Lauren sits back in her chair, the woman takes a deep breath, glances over Lauren's head at the other women in the room, and then leans over the papers on the desk.
There are a few moments of silence punctuated by the bump of the fan as it reaches the extension of its arc, and then she finally turns back to Lauren, says, “Okay, thank you. Is there anything else?”
Lauren just shakes her head, but Nancy Bobbitt doesn't tell her to speak out loud.
“Could you please send Jenna in when you go back out?”
Lauren feels like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs. For just a little while, she had been able to forget about Jenna. She is at a complete loss for what to say.
“Lauren?”
“Um, Jenna's not here.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said Jenna's not here.” Even Lauren can hear the heat and volume of her voice filling the sultry room. She says through gritted teeth, “I don't know anything about it. You'll have to ask Ellie.”
“F
IRST,
I
WOULD
like it stated for the record that I strongly encouraged Ellie to continue this discussion in private, but she insisted that we meet together as a group, and I have conceded to her, uh, request.” Nancy Bobbitt clears her throat and continues. “So, here we are.” Everyone nods though there hasn't really been a question.
Nancy turns back to her papers, which are now spread out on the coffee table, moves her glasses back up on her nose to peer at them, and pulls out a stapled packet.
“You've all seen a copy of the original complaint and had a chance to respond. As you already know, the Scott family attorney filed these papers on Lauren's behalf.” She scans the room, confirming everyone's attention, and then continues, clearing her throat again.
“As I've mentioned to each of you, Lauren's complaint is a serious one, and we have no intention of taking lightly. Though it has not been possible to confirm in any way the specifics of Lauren's complaint, and all of your statements essentially contradict Lauren's version of events, we simply do not have adequate proof either way at this time. The fact that this situation is further complicated by the absence of both Ms. Van Heusen and Jenna Carter leaves me with little choice but to proceed with a committee review of the complaint with the ultimate goal of making a recommendation to the court.”
Nancy Bobbitt lifts her eyes and peruses the faces in the room, removes her glasses, and slides back a little farther on the couch where she has been perched. She seems to be debating her next words.
Finally, she leans forward in Ellie's direction and says, “Since you went first, Ellie, I was hoping you might have thought of something you could add that would help us understand Ms. Van Heusen's absence a little better, some background or information you might have thought of that would allow us to make that less of an emphasis and judge this case purely on the nature of the complaint?”
Ellie pauses for a moment, looks down as if considering the question but is shaking her head.
When she raises her eyes, she has a bleak expression on her face, but her voice is firm and steady. “I guess I've already told you everything I can think of that's relevant. As I said, Grace elected to terminate her employment here before she was fully aware of the nature of this complaint. She was dealing with issues that were . . . unrelated. I don't think she imagined that her presence or absence would have influenced the outcome of Lauren's . . . dissatisfaction . . . in any way.”