The Choice (41 page)
“Yes, but it's only applied if there's an abuse of the system.”
“Use your judgment. I'll be in touch.”
The call ended. Sandy checked the time. If she hurried, she could get to John Bestwick's office and send the information before her next class started.
S
andy walked rapidly down the hallway. She barely acknowledged greetings from students who passed by. She crossed the basketball court. The office door was closed. Coach Bestwick often left the campus to eat lunch with boosters of the basketball team. Sandy threw open the door and charged in.
“Huh, what?”
A startled John Bestwick dropped his feet from his desk to the floor.
“Sorry,” Sandy said, stopping in her tracks. “I thought you'd probably be at lunch. I didn't mean to barge in on you.”
“It's okay,” John replied, wiping his eyes. “I subbed for Mr. Gaston's sociology class this morning and almost put myself to sleep.”
Sandy turned around to leave.
“Hold on. You had a reason for coming. Don't let me stop you.”
Sandy squeezed the papers in her hand.
“It's personal. I need to use the scanner.”
“Something to do with the deputy sheriff coming by to see you this morning in the faculty lounge?”
“You heard about that?”
John pushed away from the desk.
“Sandy, first, a deputy sheriff from Tryon serves papers on Dr. Vale. Now, a local constable calls on you. Some people claim the incidents are related. Others claim they aren't. The most logical guess is divorce papers; however, unless you secretly got married in Vegas and didn't invite me to the wedding, I'm going to toss that rumor to the side.”
Sandy managed a slight smile. John stood up.
“Just don't turn me in for taking a short nap. I worked until ten o'clock last night.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“And yours with me.” John's face became serious. “I'm not going to pry into your business, but if there's anything I can do to help, let me know. In the meantime, I'm going to defend your honor to the max.”
“Thanks,” Sandy said gratefully.
As soon as the coach left, Sandy logged on to the computer and placed the papers she'd received on the scanner. After they were sent to Jeremy, she returned to her classroom where a dull roar of conversation greeted her. Sandy clapped her hands together and cleared her throat.
“Turn to page 287 in your literature books.”
Sandy was uneasy the rest of the day. The notoriety caused by the deputy in the teachers' lounge was similar to the reactions from others she had experienced when her pregnancy became common knowledge. There were questions on every face she encountered. Knowing it's impossible to control a rumor mill, Sandy kept her mouth shut. Efforts to stop the mill often gave it greater power. At cheerleading practice she tried to act normal, and as practice progressed the girls slipped into familiar patterns.
During her afternoon walk several cars seemed to slow down as they passed by, and Sandy had to push away thoughts of paranoia. Later, she logged on to her computer and printed off the attorney-client contract sent by Jeremy. She stared, bug-eyed, at the hourly billing rate. Legal representation could end up costing her the price of a car at Bob Dortch's auto lot. Sandy had counted the emotional and professional cost of helping Maria. Now she had to face the financial cost. She checked her bank account. Most of her savings, accumulated in small increments over the years, was tied up in investments recommended by Ben. She'd have to ask him for advice on which ones to sell. Before getting more depressed, she signed the contract and sent it back to Jeremy. She was in too deep to back out now.
While eating supper, her cell phone beeped. It was Ben.
“Hey, brother,” she said.
“When were you going to call me?” Ben asked.
“What did you hear?”
“That a sheriff's deputy served you with legal papers this morning at the high school. Three people called to let me know about it and ask what was going on. Does this have anything to do with the pregnant student you're helping?”
“Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't let you know,” Sandy said. “I was thinking about you when I checked my bank account earlier.”
“Your bank account?”
“Yes. I'm going to have to hire Jeremy Lane to represent me.”
Sandy quickly told Ben what had happened, but he wasn't satisfied with a condensed version. He made her read several paragraphs of the motion and the brief.
“The newspaper is going to find out about this,” he said when she finished. “You need to decide what you're going to say when a reporter calls.”
Sandy hadn't considered the possibility of media interest.
“And I'm not just talking about the Rutland paper,” Ben continued. “This is the sort of thing that newspapers all over the country might pick up. The women's organization in Atlanta probably has a publicity angle it wants to work.”
“I hadn't thought about reporters. I guess I'll tell anyone who calls to speak to Jeremy.”
“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” Ben paused. “He's a sharp young lawyer for a town like Tryon, but you're going to need an attorney who's used to playing on a bigger stage.”
“He mentioned the possibility of getting help from national pro-life groups.”
“You can't count on that. I'm going to make some calls and try to find a lawyer with more experience to protect you.”
“Thanks, but I want to stay with Jeremy.”
“Why? You barely know him.”
Sandy paused and took a deep breath.
“Because he's my son.”
It wasn't the way Sandy wanted to tell Ben about Jeremy, but her brother deserved to know the truth. There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone.
“How do you know?” Ben asked after a few moments.
“Is Betsy there? I'd like both of you to hear this at the same time.”
“I'll tell her to pick up on the phone in the kitchen.”
Sandy waited for a minute until her sister-in-law came on the line.
“Hi, Sandy. What's up?”
When Sandy repeated her news about Jeremy, she heard Betsy gasp. Sandy told them about the first meeting in Jeremy's office and the photograph on the corner of his desk.
“And you're sure it's the same house?” Ben asked.
“No doubt about it. And Jeremy mentioned that one reason he was willing to help my student is because he's an adoptee. Think about it. Doesn't he look like Jack?”
“Maybe a little.”
“And when I researched him on the Internet, I found out that he was born in Atlanta on April 5, 1975. That's the day the twins were born.”
“Sandy, this is amazing,” Betsy said. “When are you going to tell him?”
“I don't know, but I'm going to have to do it soon.”
“Who else knows?” Betsy asked.
“Only Jessica. She found out by accident the other day when she came by the house and saw a photograph of Jeremy's family beside my computer.”
“You're going to have to tell Mama too,” Ben said. “And Jack.”
“I know, I know,” Sandy said, “but I barely have my head around the situation myself. Then all this came up with the lawsuit. I need to think about helping the student, but I'm distracted by Jeremy and his family.” Sandy paused. “Betsy, he has the cutest kids, a little girl and a boy. She looks like a Lincoln. The little boy favors Jeremy's birth father.”
“Sandy, you're a grandmother!” Betsy exclaimed.
“Yes, and I'm desperate to give them a hug.”
“Hold on to something else for a minute,” Ben said. “We still need to figure out what you need to do about an attorney. This personal connection makes it less appropriate for Jeremy to represent you. Your lawyer needs to be focused on the case, not learning about his mother.”
There was logic to Ben's point.
“You may be right,” Sandy admitted. “Let me think about it. Jeremy said the hearing next week is just a preliminary matter, the first shot in a bigger battle. Maybe I can decide after that.”
“I'm not going to wait,” Ben said. “Tomorrow morning I'm going to start making some phone calls. I've had some recent dealings with a lawyer at a big firm in Atlanta who may be able to give me a recommendation. You need a constitutional lawyer with experience in that area.”
“A son and two grandchildren!” Betsy cut in.
“And he has a lovely wife,” Sandy said. “Ben, you've met her.”
“Yes,” Ben sighed. “Leanne Lane is an attractive woman who seems to love her husband and kids. She asked several good questions when I met with them about their insurance plan.”
“Smart too,” Betsy said. “Sandy, with you in the children's bloodline, the kids are probably geniuses.”
“Okay, ladies,” Ben said. “Is there anything else we need to talk about?”
“Yes,” Betsy responded immediately. “When can I come over and see the photos Jessica saw? Do you have any others?”
“Tomorrow,” Sandy replied. “I took a bunch of pictures the other day when I followed them around in Tryon.”
“You spied on them?” Ben asked.
“Yes, and I'm glad I did,” Sandy shot back.
“Me too,” Betsy said. “Call me when you get in from your walk tomorrow afternoon and I'll be right over. This is so exciting!”
The following morning Maria came by Sandy's classroom before first period. She was holding some papers in her hand.
“Come in,” Sandy said. “I think I know what you have.”
“A man from the police gave this to my father.”
Sandy took the papers from Maria and read them. It was a petition filed in juvenile court in Rutland claiming that Maria was mentally incompetent and needed a guardian appointed as soon as possible.
“What does it mean?” Maria asked. “Rosalita and I couldn't understand it.”
Sandy explained in Spanish about the petition. Maria looked even more puzzled.
“My English is not perfect, but it's getting better and better. And I'm passing all my classes.”
“That's not the point. I'll send this information to Mr. Lane, the lawyer. He already knows about it and is willing to help you for free.”
“What should I tell my father? After the policeman came to our trailer, my father told me this is causing too much trouble for our family and that I should stop listening to you.”
“He blames me?”
“I told him you are trying to help, but he didn't believe me. He said you just want me to do what you want me to do.”
“Do you feel that way?” Sandy asked, realizing it would be a question that would come up at some point in the lawsuit filed against her.
“A little bit.”
“How can I help without making you feel like I'm trying to make you do something?”
Maria didn't answer. Instead, a tear rolled down her cheek. Sandy dropped the legal papers on the desk and wrapped the girl in her arms. Maria buried her head in Sandy's shoulder and cried. After a couple of minutes passed, Sandy glanced up at the clock in the rear of the classroom. Students would start arriving shortly. She gently separated herself from Maria. The girl wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“My shoulder is here anytime you need it,” Sandy said softly.
“Thank you.” Maria sniffled. “That is what I need the most.”
“Have you heard from Ms. Ramsey?” Sandy asked.
“I go to her office later this morning.”
“What time?”
“Second period. She gave Ms. Harrison a note taking me out of class.”
Sandy bit her lip. She wanted to tell Maria before she left not to keep the appointment with Carol, but she didn't.
As soon as Sandy's class was in their seats, she gave them an assignment and hurriedly walked to Coach Bestwick's office. Five minutes later the petition was scanned and on its way to Jeremy.
