Nine Lives (8 page)

“I feel so bad for you,” she says. “I’m really sorry.”

I don’t know how to take her words. Does she mean she’s sorry for the stress she’s put me under? Is she sorry for everything, or does she mean it in the way you ask someone how their day is at the grocery store? When you really don’t care about the answer but are just being polite? “I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

Silence balloons in the gaps between our words. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I have to pee like I’ve been on a twelve-hour road trip with David, who refuses to stop. He hates wasting time when we’re finally on the road. We never take trips over three hours without at least one accident. I pack heavy for family trips.

I change the subject to Laina. It’s easier. “How have things been there?”

“They suck. I can’t leave the house unless it’s for therapy or work,” she says.

I want to tell her she asked for it. I want to say, “be careful what you lie about.” Instead, I press my lips into a tight line. I say nothing.

She continues. “The whole thing is just a huge mess.”

Sensing she may have some guilt, I use the opportunity to pry. “Have you talked to your therapist about that? What has she said?”

“I’ve only met her once. I have to see her twice a week. She sucks too. All shrinks suck. At least it gets me out of the house,” she says.

“Well, what specifically sucks?”

“What doesn’t suck is a better question, Hope. Faith barely speaks and is back to cutting. Mom is so angry at us that she’s taken down every picture that we are in. The only pictures she even has up are the ones of you guys and your family. Or Jada and Joseph’s. It’s like we don’t exist. It’s awkward as hell.”

“I don’t know what to tell you about that, Laina. Have you and Faith considered going to the police department and telling them it was a mistake?” I’m shocked at the words coming out of my mouth, but I know this is my best chance to reason with her.

“Why would we do that? I know you can’t believe this, Hope. But he really did those things,” she says. “I know you think the sun rises and sets in that man, but believe me, it doesn’t.”

“I’m just saying maybe you remember things wrong. It would be easier for everyone if he was out. Back home. Could help Mom,” I say.

“Yeah, no thanks. I am not living with that monster.”

“But if he came home, maybe Mom would let you leave? You could go be with Tyler like Sadie did with Slash. Isn’t that the ultimate goal?”

“I didn’t make this up to be with Tyler! Jesus!” She pauses. “Do you think she’d really let me do that?”

I hate her more than ever now. Any doubt that she lied is now fully erased. “I have no idea what she’d let you do, Laina. I’m just saying she might be more willing to work with you if you and Faith were working with her. I can’t imagine she’s all excited about helping you be with your boyfriend when you’ve made it so she can’t be with her husband.”

“He made it so they couldn’t be together by doing what he did. You and Mom are so fucked up! Do you want this to start happening to Mary in a few years? ’Cause it will. Me and Faith did the right thing,” she says. “Maybe someday you will believe us.”

I’ll never believe her. I know Dad too well. But this conversation is going nowhere and I want to get the kitchen cleaned up. “Maybe, Laina.” I pause. “I’m glad you’re seeing a therapist and I hope you get the help that you need.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Well, thanks for checking in on me. I appreciate it. Tell Jeremiah and Mary hello from Iowa.”

“Yeah, okay, cool.”

“Goodbye, Laina.”

She hangs up. I’m relieved.

I turn my phone to mute, grab a roll of paper towels, and get to work on the counters. I think of Mom. I wish I had people coming over, so I’d have more of a reason to clean.

Chapter Nine

Flesh And Blood

Heather

Something needs to be done. This can’t keep happening. Laina and Faith are worried about themselves, but they don’t realize how many other lives are being impacted by their selfishness. Jeremiah is getting angrier and angrier. Today, he hit me when I took away his ear buds. He told me he hated me. I wanted to hug him and tell him he was hating the wrong person. I wanted to tell him to hate his sisters. Instead, I made him a snack. He’s still not speaking to me. I have no idea what to do. I know he wants Tom. I know he can’t understand why his father isn’t home with us, or coaching his teams. I’d ask Joseph to help, but he has a family of his own. He might do it, though. I don’t know. I’m not sure how long I’m supposed to play Mom/Dad here, but it’s getting old.

Behavioral issues are nothing compared to what’s going on with Hope. I shouldn’t have used her as my therapist. I need to get one of my own. I feel like I’m responsible for her miscarriage. If she weren’t under so much stress, she might still be pregnant. There’s no way to make it up to her. I want to be there, to hug her, to tell her it will all be okay. But I know there’s nothing I can say to make her pain go away.

I met Jada for dinner last night in Vermont, a rare chance to get away. Laina was all too eager to babysit Mary and Jeremiah. Noelle was supposed to watch them but her car wouldn’t start. Laina will never tell that I left them home alone. I found Tyler’s baseball hat on my couch. Now I know why she was so agreeable. It’s always some motive with her.

At dinner, Jada told me something that has me worried. She said Faith told her that she’s been visiting Sadie. She said that Sadie picks her up from the library, where she’s supposed to be studying. She goes to Sadie and Slash’s house. One time, she told Jada, Slash tried to kiss her. Imagine that? A thirty-four-year-old making a move on a fourteen-year-old? Does twenty years mean nothing? I asked Jada if Sadie knew. She said she did and made excuses for him. Tell me what twentysomething is okay with their boyfriend hitting on their fourteen-year-old sister? She’s just as bad as Laina.

I don’t know where these girls came from. How are they my flesh and blood? How could Tom and I have done everything right with Hope, Jada, Joseph and Noelle and then gone so horribly wrong starting with Sadie and trickling down to Laina and Faith? What if Mary’s next? Or could it also happen with Jeremiah? When this all first began, and I was trying to explain that Tom would never do the things he was accused of, a social worker asked me “why would the girls suddenly have all these wild behaviors, like cutting, and sneaking out if something didn’t happen?” I wanted to hit her and say, “why would the other girls—the older ones—love their father and leave their own children in our care if something had happened? Pedophiles don’t develop overnight. If he didn’t do it to the first three, why would he start doing it later down the line?”

When I can’t take it anymore, I fantasize that they aren’t really ours. That we adopted them. That we never created the kind of people who would lie and lie and lie just to get their way. I pretend that it comes from someone or someplace else. Trying to stomach what they’ve done has become impossible. Now, with Hope losing her own flesh and blood, I’m rethinking mine. Had we stopped at three kids, which is what we would have done if we’d had things our way and not left them up to God, this wouldn’t be happening. But then, I would have missed out on Noelle.

Today, Noelle’s coming with me to make a report on what Faith told Jada. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I thought getting a restraining order on Slash, even Sadie, would be the answer for Faith. My homeworker, Juliet, made me reconsider. She convinced me that Sadie’s as much of a victim of Slash’s as Faith in this case. She told me to call the local police department and let them handle it. Instead, I’m going down there—in person—with Noelle. I remember how anxious they were to throw Tom in cuffs. I’ll be curious to see how long it takes them to pick up Slash.

If you haven’t guessed, I’m not real fond of the officers there. I think the only law I’ve ever broken was speeding. Even then, I’m one who tries to go the speed limit, exactly. My kids call me “Cautious Kate” when I’m driving. I have no idea where Kate comes from, but you get the idea. Would you trust the police department if they dragged you downtown to grill you on crimes your husband didn’t commit? How would you feel about them if they helped the state throw the innocent man you love behind bars? I told Juliet I’m worried that they won’t do anything to Slash.

It’s occurred to me that Faith could be making this story up; another attempt at manipulation. But she has nothing to gain with this story. When she made her allegations against Tom, she shouted them out to the world. It concerns me that she only told Jada these things. The thing about knowing that she lied about Tom is it helps me to know she may be telling the truth this time. I do believe this happened, by the way. It’s been clear from day one that Slash likes his girlfriends younger. Twenty years younger, apparently. This time, I believe her and I’m worried. I can’t allow her to be alone with him again. Something much worse than a creepy old man hitting on her could happen.

When Faith was younger, she was the one I had the most hope for. She was bright from the very beginning. The first to open her eyes, to smile, to coo. She had a huge heart and even bigger curiosity about the world. Faith was the one I thought would go places. I saw a nurturer in her, and she was always the first to be up and ready for church. She never minded helping around the house and offered to share her toys. Faith, honestly, was my favorite. I know you aren’t supposed to have favorites, but that’s just how I felt. I never told anyone. Now, I don’t know what to think of her. What would you think?

Joseph was Tom’s favorite. Our oldest son, he’s twenty-four, married, and the father of two. I expect we will be hearing news of a third on the way soon. Joseph, always competitive, hopes to beat his dad out when it comes to kid-making. Last time I heard, he said he and his wife, Missy, hope to have a baker’s dozen. Now I feel like I should warn them. I want to say, “stop at three!” Joseph and Missy live just down the road and I don’t know what I would do without them. While he’s busy himself, he does try to help out when he can.

Noelle will be here soon. I’m hoping Laina will agree to watch Mary and Jeremiah again. Caroline is just down the road and is a trusted adult. That should be fine with the stupid probation office. I’m so tired of being locked down to that kid all the time. Normal teenagers don’t need babysitting. I understand why they want the hand-holding babysitting. I can’t say it doesn’t worry me that Tyler will be crawling through the woods toward our house the moment I leave. At this point, though, how can I stop him? I’m tempted to call her probation officer to tell him about the hat I found in the house. Instead, I’m going to do what Hope suggested, and hold it as my ace card if I need it. If her probation officer finds out that she’s been sneaking Tyler over again, she’ll go right back to a residential home. Then again, he’ll lecture me for leaving her alone. Oh well. He’s clearly never raised teenage girls. Maybe Laina back in placement will give me the break I need. Faith always behaves better with Laina out of the picture.

I call the kids. Faith mopes into the kitchen with Mary hopping happily behind her.

“Where are Jeremiah and Laina?” I ask, ignoring Faith’s irritated expression.

“Jeremiah is jumping on that stupid trampoline. And I’m not Laina’s keeper,” Faith says. “I’m starving, what’s there to eat?”

“Cold cuts in the fridge. Make a sandwich,” I say. “Mary, go find Laina and tell her Mommy needs to talk to her.”

Mary marches off.

I grab the newspaper off the kitchen table and head to my room to wait for Noelle. I don’t want to be in the kitchen while Faith gives me dirty looks and eats her sandwich. I’ve learned it’s best to avoid her. I can’t stand looking at her cuts, and she refuses to cover her arms in the house lately. It’s like she’s screaming, “Look at me! Look at the pain I’m in!” and “Gotcha! There’s nothing you can do to help me.”

I have about a half hour to make a list of apartments. I haven’t had time to do much apartment hunting, and now that I’m resigned to the idea of losing the house, I know I need to get motivated. But instead of looking for low-income housing, I find myself drawn to community ads about mental wellness, therapy, and shelters for at-risk kids. I swallow the guilt I feel about wanting Laina and Faith out of my life, for now anyway, and flip the page.

“Laina!” I call, wondering why eager Mary hasn’t produced her yet.

The house is quiet except for the sound of Faith’s shower in the upstairs bathroom. She was probably pissed about me being out of ham and changed her mind about eating. She hates bologna. I smirk to myself. I don’t bother checking the time. I know she’ll be in there a good half hour. I’m trying to find ways to avoid being aggravated with the girls any more than necessary. She has never cared about the cost of hot water. None of them have. It’s not just a Faith thing. I look out my window to watch a happy Jeremiah bouncing on the trampoline. I cringe as he jumps too close to the edge but remind myself that soon I’ll be donating that trampoline to the church for their annual bizarre.

“Ma! I’m here!” Noelle yells from the kitchen.

I smile, throw on my sneakers, and run down to greet her. We hug and I ask her how she’s doing. Fresh out of nursing school, she’s been studying for the boards. She reminds me of a younger version of my case manager, Juliet— hoping to save the world but independent-minded enough to know that might take some creative thinking. Lately, Noelle hasn’t been around as much as usual. She says she needs a quiet place to study and our house isn’t it. I’ve missed her more than I realized and wonder why she’s really staying away. I stare, too long perhaps, at her pixie nose and strong chin. She’s older now and looks so much like Tom. Where has time gone?

“I’m so nervous. Just three days and then it’s show time,” she says. “Would you mind quizzing me later? I have a hard time doing those flash cards by myself. I fall asleep. And right now, I’m studying med pour calculations. Boringggggg.”

“I’d love to help, Noelle. In fact, if you want, you can drive my car and I’ll ask you questions while we’re out today,” I say, grateful for any chance to think about something besides my deteriorating life.

“Awesome, thanks,” she says, reaching in the fridge for an apple. She stops to look at pictures of her father and me at one of our more recent visits. She looks away. I swear I can see a tear in her eye, but I don’t ask about it. She wouldn’t want me to.

“Okay, let me find Laina. I’m going to see if she will watch Jeremiah and Mary. We’re only going to be out for a bit and Caroline agreed to keep an eye on things. I hate this, Noelle. I can’t even leave for an hour without having to coordinate this whole huge thing.”

“Oh, I know. I can’t imagine. I hate that this is happening.”

“Laina!” I lean over the sink, looking into the backyard to see some sign of her. She’s not in her usual spot, where she thinks she’s getting away with smoking unseen. “She’s unreal, you know that? Mary? Come here!”

Mary comes running from the living room.

“Did you find your sister?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Can I have a lollipop?”

“One. Where have you looked?”

“I dunno. Everywhere? Can I have two?”

Noelle hands her two lollipops, and I try not to think about the sugar rush in the form of a screaming, grouchy five-year-old heading my way later this afternoon.

“I’ll go find her,” Noelle says, as my cell phone ringtone interrupts.

“It’s the JPO,” I tell Noelle. “Should I answer?”

“Um, yeah,” she says. “When I find her, I’ll keep her distracted. Take as long as you need.”

Noelle disappears and I answer my phone. On the line is yet another probation officer whose name I don’t recognize. I can’t figure out whether there are high turnover rates in social services or if everyone quits when they realize they have to deal with Laina. Who would blame them? Thank goodness Juliet has stuck around. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

One hour and no sign of Laina later, I run to the bathroom to vomit. According to the probation office, I may be charged with child neglect because I left Laina home alone the day of her therapy appointment. No matter how many times I explained that I didn’t leave her home alone, that I had just stepped away for a few minutes to run to the pharmacy and do other errands while she met with Abigail, they don’t believe me. They insist I dropped her off at the therapist’s office and made her walk home alone as some form of punishment for pressing charges on Tom. I can’t imagine what they’ll do when they find out about my visit with Jada too. There’s no chance of visiting Hope now. I may as well be on house arrest with Laina. For what? I’ve done nothing wrong. If I were really trying to punish her, believe me, the punishment would be a lot harsher than making her walk. I can’t even admit to myself the fantasies I’ve had in that area.

Noelle finds me curled up on the tiny downstairs bathroom floor. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying. I tell her I can’t leave to report Slash. I have to be home in case Laina shows up. If I get caught leaving her unsupervised again, the state will come in and remove Jeremiah and Mary. She slides onto the bathroom floor and cries beside me.