Saving Gracie (11 page)

Grace graciously thanked the woman, her face still flushed. In her mind she could easily downplay the compliment. Honestly, she didn’t feel she’d done anything special. She studied the award in her hands. Yep, the dang thing had her name on it. Whad’ya know.

She’d almost reached the parking lot, plaque in hand, when the maybe-visit-Cherry promise popped into her mind. She stopped. Should I ask someone? Not waiting for a #2 reply, she headed back to the school. Inside the main office, she stuck her head around the door of the counselor’s office where she heard movement. A woman sifted through a stack of papers.

“Excuse me?” Grace’s voice was barely audible. She felt self-conscious and wished she could wiggle her nose and be sitting in her car instead of standing at the counselor’s door.

“Yes? Come in, I’ll be with you in a minute.” The nameplate on the desk read
Elena Parker, Counselor
. “Have a seat.”

Grace slid into a chair near the door. She took in air to relax, which didn’t help. Flashbacks of middle school raced through her mind. She’d only been sent to the office once when her math teacher suspected she’d forged her mother’s name on a progress report. Her mother had not been amused. #2 had screamed with laughter.

Quit fidgeting, she ordered herself, assuming #2 had dumped her for some biker dude. She pressed her palms on her thighs and shifted in her seat.

“Now.” The counselor lifted her head, her eyes warm and friendly. “How can I help you?”

Grace stumbled through the Cherry story, explaining how she had formed some kind of bond with the child during the summer program. She ended with the scene in the parking lot, omitting, once again, the ‘I love you’ sign and fudging on the promised part of the visit.

Ms. Parker leaned back in her chair, her fingers in prayer-like formation at her lips. She then held up a finger, walked to the door and quietly pushed it closed. Thumbing through a row of folders in a nearby lateral file cabinet, she pulled one out and placed the folder on her desk.

Grace glanced at the label: no surprise, Harding, Cherry.

The counselor released an audible sigh.

“This poor child doesn’t have much of a chance, I’m afraid.” Flipping through the folder, Ms. Parker shook her head. “Major anger and discipline problems, report after report.” Elena Parker raised her hopeless hands in the air. “ARD’s have produced no cooperation from the mother. None.”

As a special-needs parent, Grace knew all too well the Admission, Review, and Dismissal protocol to help discern eligibility resources.

“I don’t know why she latched on to me.” Grace’s brows drew together.

A swift blank look crossed the counselor’s face and then pointed at the plaque beside Grace. “You did just receive that, didn’t you?

Grace’s eyes dropped to the gold-plated inscription mounted on the polished mahogany wood.

“Mrs. Brookfield.” The woman crossed her arms on her desk and leaned toward Grace. “You showed that child compassion…that
someone
in this ugly world she lives in actually cares. And compassion is something she’s had little exposure to in her short life.” The counselor’s words penetrated Grace’s thought process.

“And, as far as you going for a home visit? No. Absolutely not.”

“No?” Jumbled emotions rushed through Grace. Relief? Fear? Guilt?

“Absolutely not,” Ms. Parker emphasized. “There’s a current CPS investigation in progress with the family and a visit from you could prove to be dangerous.” The counselor sat back in her chair. “For you,” she paused, “as well as Cherry.”

The intensity of the words stung Grace with brutal reality. She stared at the nameplate on the desk and bit her inner lip. Goose bumps covered her arms.

“Don’t get me wrong.” Ms. Parker rose and moved to lean against the front of her desk. “I admire your concern for Cherry. I wish more people felt the need to help the way you have.”

The counselor touched Grace’s shoulder. “You have a gift. We’ve got great, highly specialized teachers and aides. But you calm her down better than anyone we’ve had. No one has been able to do what you’ve done with Cherry.”

Grace moved her head around until her neck popped. She so wasn’t used to compliments, and now several in one day. Wow.

“After school starts I could arrange for you to spend time with Cherry in her classroom…if you’re interested.” Ms. Parker seemed to weigh the situation. “Maybe as a volunteer?”

An eyebrow shot up. Another volunteer suggestion? And this one directly involving Cherry?

The counselor hesitated. “The reason I even mention this is because of your interest in the child and your special involvement with her in the summer program.” Ms. Parker cleared her throat. “And if history repeats itself, Cherry’s teacher will need the help when school starts.”

Grace remained quiet.

“How does that sound?” Ms. Parker returned to her seat, closed the file and leaned back.

“Okay…I guess.” Not a grown-up response, Grace thought.

“I will tell you that a preliminary request to send her to the State School for the Deaf in Austin has been initiated,” the counselor said. “It may be the safest place for her.”

A roar filled Grace’s head. “I see. Thank you,” she forced out. Bile backed up in her throat. Feeling an unexplainable urge to run, she rose and thanked Ms. Parker for her time. Power walking down the hall, she bolted through the double doors of the school and bee-lined to her car.

Arriving home, she fumbled with the key at the back door before pushing herself in. She slammed the door and twisted the lock. Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed a handful of rocks which were tumbling around in a polishing drum. Grateful to be home alone, she tore off the clothes she’d carefully picked out for the luncheon and threw on soft, worn yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt.

Her closet. Nestling down in the corner, she pulled up her knees, wrapped her arms tightly around her legs and rocked.

It may be the safest place for her
.

The counselor’s words pounded through her head. She covered her ears.

It may be the safest place for her.

Nothing stopped the horrific picture forming in her mind. The urge to run stemmed from the need to escape. She could run from the counselor, but not in Cherry’s reality. Cherry wasn’t just an unruly deaf wild-child troublemaker. She most likely lived with abuse daily.

Tears streamed down Grace’s face, scorching her cheeks. God Mom, I need you. I need you…here.

CHAPTER 17

RUBY

Standing outside Mary’s office, Ruby glanced at the crumpled summons. A thin bead of sweat lined her forehead, her Juicy Fruit smacking at a furious rate. She wiped sweaty hands down her black cargo pants before entering her superior’s office.

“Ruby,” Mary welcomed. “So nice to see you.”

Yeah, as if it’s a big surprise I’m here, Ruby thought.

“Come in,” Mary invited.

Knowing full well this wouldn’t be a girlfriend chit-chat, Ruby edged toward the white shiny desk. Mary was the Ice Princess, after all, though Ruby never
ever
verbalized her super-secret nickname for her superior.

“Please tell me what you’ve observed regarding Quinlan.” Mary, elegantly clothed in her usual “whites,” sat stick-straight behind her desk, long slender fingers folded in front of her.

Reaching into her back pocket, Ruby pulled out a small fluorescent orange notebook with a neon green spiral. She flipped a couple of pages. Shifting her Juicy Fruit wad to one side, she cleared her throat. “Zero to minimal participation during orientation. Filed fingernails during ‘Self Deception/Self Awareness.’ Mainly slept through ‘The Bigger Picture.’” She ticked items off like a grocery list.

Ruby pushed her blue-tinted glasses up her forehead. “If you ask me, she’s got the self-deception thing down, Boss.” Ruby chuckled, but quickly fell silent after meeting Mary’s icy-clear eyes.

“And after orientation?” Mary raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I presume she only chose one major?”

“Yes ma’am.” Ruby shifted from one foot to the other. “Where Do We Go From Here?”

“Interesting.” Mary murmured, nails making light clicking noises as she took notes on the screen in front of her. “Her minors?”

“Herbs and Gardening.” Ruby scanned her notes, squinting at her scratchy handwriting. “‘Painting’ and…” She flipped a page. “‘Book of the Month.’ She also picked ‘Sign Language’ for her volunteer assignment. Her granddaughter’s deaf.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.” Mary finished her notation. “Anything else?”

“Well, I hoped she’d pick “Bowling, ‘cause you know, she’s a south-paw.” Ruby rolled her Juicy Fruit to the front of her mouth and smacked loudly. She stopped mid-chomp.

Mary’s nails tapped impatiently on the shiny white desk. “What does she do in her spare time?”

“Not much. Goes to Angela’s with her sister.” Ruby leaned against one of the rolling chairs in front of Mary’s desk. It slipped, flying across the room, just as George entered from a side door. The chair sailed past the Council member, crashing into the adjacent wall.

Ruby managed to catch herself before falling into a full-fledged belly flop. Her blue-tinted glasses and fluorescent-colored notebook skidded across the carpet, landing at George’s feet.

“See the game today Ruby?” George asked.

Ruby scrambled to stand. “No sir.”

George stepped forward, handing over the glasses and notepad.

Ruby dried damp hands down her cargo pants and nodded an embarrassed thank-you to George. She glanced at Mary, her face a distressed red. “Sorry. Forget about the wheels on those suckers.” She rescued the runaway chair and checked the wall for dings before pushing it back in front of Mary’s desk.

“George, you really should stop teasing this poor woman,” Mary reprimanded.

A familiar wisecrack grin spread across George’s face. “Whatever do you mean?”

Mary shook her head. “Is there something you needed?”             

Ruby took advantage of attention diverted elsewhere. She forced a handful of wayward hair behind her ear and twisted her work-shirt back in place.

“Free for lunch?” He buried his hands into wrinkled pants pockets.

“Of course.” Mary smiled. “I’ll join you shortly.”

George nodded and opened the door.

Mary turned back to Ruby. “You were saying?”

Ruby waited for the door to close behind the elder Council member. She took a step toward the white desk. “Mr. George makes me nervous,” she whispered. “There’s not even a game today.”

“It’s just his way,” Mary dismissed, studying her built-in desk screen. “Shall we continue with Quinlan?”

Ruby stepped back, putting distance between her and the Ice Princess. “Let’s see. She’s….” Her tongue searched her mouth. Alarmed, she dropped to her knees, combing the white carpet.

“What’s wrong now?”

“I’ve lost my—”

“Your chewing substance?”

Ruby gulped. “Yes ma’am.”

“And you believe it to be on the carpet?” A look of mild distress crossed Mary’s face. She rose and panned the floor area.

Ruby straightened and smiled sheepishly, displaying a row of small white teeth. “No worries, Boss. Carpet’s clean,” she announced. “Guess I swallowed it.”

Mary touched her forehead and took her seat. She glanced once again at the desk screen. “Continue please.”

“Okay,” Ruby said, breathing in relief at not having to scrape gum off the Ice Princess’s carpet. She tucked the fluorescent spiral in her back pocket. “Let’s see. She’s at the library a lot; hauls a ton of books home too, I can tell ya.” Ruby ran chubby fingers through thin hair. “Her garden in Meghan’s backyard? Doin’ great.” She crossed her arms and nodded her head. “Next year she’s gonna grow me some—” Ruby stopped, seeing impatience in Mary’s eyes. “Cucumbers.”

“Is that all?”

“Yep.” Ruby rolled her tongue around, not finding anything to smack. “That’s about it, Boss.”

Mary tapped a slender finger on her desk. “I think we should call George in for a consultation. I’d like you to be here at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow? With Mr. George?”

Mary nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” Ruby’s shoulders dropped like a little kid in detention.

“That’s all.”

Half saluting the Ice Princess, Ruby shuffled toward the door. Her hand touched the doorknob when Mary spoke again.

“Oh, one more thing,” Mary said. “My report says Quinlan has used her Celestial Internet card quite frequently. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Ruby’s hand froze around the cool, crystal knob. “Her CI card?” She swallowed hard, wondering if the lump in her throat was Juicy Fruit coming back up. “Uh, no ma’am. Can’t say I do.” Her heart thundered in her chest. She could feel Mary’s ice-cold eyes on her back.

“Are you sure, Ruby?”

The beads of nervous perspiration lining her forehead had now burst, sending ferocious streams of sweat pouring down her face. She pried her hand from the doorknob one finger at a time. Face wet and flushed, lower lip trembling, she turned slowly to face Mary head on. Ruby dropped to her knees, clenching hands above her head.

“Forgive me Boss.” Ruby sobbed. “I thought I’d just give her a little sneaky-peak. I didn’t know she’d go ballistic. I tried to get her to stop her, honest I did—”

“Ru-u-u-by.” Mary’s voice, even but firm, stopped the babbling. “Take a breath and get up off the floor, please.”

Obediently, Ruby stood, her insides feeling like Jell-O.

“Now sit.” A manicured fingernail pointed to a chair.

Cautious of the chairs on wheels, Ruby used both arms to secure herself before slumping into the nearest one. “Are you demoting me?” If she lost her position, she’d have to start on ground level. And goodbye to following the White Sox.

Mary’s composure never wavered. “We’ll discuss that later.”

Ruby stared at her hands. Geez, what have I done?

“Would you like to tell me about the situation or wait for George?” Mary questioned. “Your choice.”

Ruby dropped her head in her hands. “Choices,” she moaned. “It’s all about choices, isn’t it?”

“You might say that.” Mary voice calm.

Ruby fished around in her cargo pants and pulled out a handkerchief. She mopped her face, blew her nose and then shoved the swatch back in her pocket. She raised her eyes to meet Mary’s poised face, her own feeling blotchy. She took a deep breath and decided this had to be better than facing Mr. George. Deep breath. “Okay…I’ll talk.”

“Wise.” Mary folded her hands in her lap. “Begin when you’re ready.”

“Well.” Ruby rubbed her chin. “It was the last day of her orientation class. I was off-duty and went to the library to check on the…on the….” Ruby squirmed.

“On the what, Ruby?”

Ruby coughed and rubbed her mouth, trying to muffle her words. “White Sox.” She dropped her head.

“Hmm. I see.” Mary typed a quick note on her screen pad. “Continue, please.”

Ruby’s eyes fixated on Mary’s clicking fingernails moving swiftly across the screen. “I’m cooked, aren’t I?”

Mary shushed her. “Don’t be silly. Go on.”

Ruby gulped, her eyes frozen on the screen.

“Ru-u-u-by.”

Ruby snapped back to attention. “Here’s the thing Boss. Quinlan kinda snuck up on me and saw I was on the Earth homepage. She asked a bunch of questions.” Ruby fidgeted. “I thought she was just curious…said something about recipes.” Ruby scratched her head. “Or crossword puzzles.”

Mary nodded, clicking another notation.

“So-o-o-o, I kinda, maybe, showed her how to use her CI card.”

“And you explained the rules?”

“Uh-huh.”

“All of them?”

Ruby nodded.

“You told her she needed clearance to access the Earth homepage,” Mary said flatly.

“Yes ma’am. I did tell her that. Scouts honor.” Ruby held up three fingers. “You know ma’am, Quinlan’s tricky. Just the other day—”

“So,
you
granted the clearance.” More clicks on the screen. “Thank you for your time, Ruby.”

Ruby opened her mouth to say something else.

“That’s all.” Mary dismissed Ruby as if shooing a fly.

The finality of Mary’s words hit Ruby like a runner smacking into the catcher at home plate. She stood, shoulders sagging and proceeded to the door.

“Two o’clock,” Mary reminded.

“I still have to meet with Mr. George?” Ruby turned her big brown puppy-dog eyes on Mary. “But I thought—“

“She’s your assignment, Ruby. You have to be here.” Mary touched a button and the desk screen switched to a silver and gold 3-D hologram, swirling around a pristine white background.

“Yes ma’am.” Ruby dropped the blue glasses onto her nose and opened the door. “I’m cooked.”