“I don’t know how. I keep doing it because it doesn’t work the first time.”
“Don’t confuse moving on with forgetting. It’s acceptance of what you’ve done and extending some grace to yourself for having made a mistake. And you probably can’t do it on your own—that’s why you need the Lord’s help. Stop trying to be so self-sufficient and independent, you stubborn girl, you.” Ruth smiled gently and set a plate of banana bread in front of her.
Debbie picked up a slice of bread. “Why is it I can walk other women through this kind of thing, but I can’t do it myself?”
“Well, what is it they say about doctors, how they make the worst patients? Maybe it’s the same idea with psychologists.”
“Maybe.”
“It helps to have someone else to talk to, too, instead of just letting it rattle around in your own head.”
“But I talk to you all the time.”
Her mother smiled. “Maybe it’s time to talk to someone else.”
Debbie snorted. “Like who?”
“You’ve talked an awful lot about that Joshua…”
“Mom!”
“What? I’m just saying.”
“Ahem. New topic please.”
Her mother smiled and sat down beside her as she helped herself to a slice of the bread. “Alright then. There
is
something I’d like to talk to you about…”
T
HE CELL AT THE COUNTY JAIL
for women was just what she expected: cold, stark, and depressing. Her cell mate was blessedly quiet, her nose buried in a ratty paperback whenever they were locked in. The other women were a mixed bag of all shades of friendly and various levels of threatening. Kim mostly kept to herself.
Her attorney arranged for Anne to be brought to the prison the second day she was there. The visit was agonizing. When the social worker took her back, Kim retreated to her cell, burying herself beneath the bedsheets and sobbing into the stiff pillow. She’d thought seven years of guilt and nightmares and the recent past with Rick had been bad, but they were nothing compared to the experience of watching her baby be taken away. She tried to find comfort in knowing Anne was in good hands, but it didn’t help much.
Kim quickly learned that an unoccupied mind would go instantly to memories of Anne, so she kept herself busy praying and reading the Bible Ruth had given her. Sometimes it backfired—she could identify a little too well with the agony she imagined God felt as he watched his children leave the garden—and she had to stop reading and pour out her pain in prayer. But eventually a sense of comfort would envelop her and she’d open the book once more.
On the fifth day the warden led her to a visitation room where her attorney awaited. “Discovery is completed,” he said. “Your trial date is set for next Wednesday.”
Five more days. “Okay.”
“I talked with the prosecuting attorney. He’s willing to skip straight to sentencing. There’s no point in dragging everyone through a trial—you’re pleading guilty, it’s a straightforward case.”
She shrugged. “That’s fine, I guess.”
He stood to leave. “Oh, and the Trumans have asked if they can speak on your behalf at the hearing.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know, but it can’t hurt.”
“You’re sure they want to speak on my behalf and not against me?”
“They were pretty clear.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.” She spoke aloud, though the words were meant for heaven.
“Beats me. But I’m meeting with them Monday to find out. See you next week.”
T
HEY WERE THE LONGEST FIVE DAYS OF HER LIFE.
Anne was brought back for two more visits, and each parting was more excruciating than the last. Her cell mate was transferred, and she was alone for the last two days before her sentencing. Ruth came back to visit once, bringing with her another book, this one a hardbound Bible dictionary that was twice as thick as the bulky, leather-bound Bible. “Thank you so much,” she’d told her for the hundredth time, “but honestly, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t. But I want to.” Normally cool and composed, Ruth seemed different today, more animated. She sat on the edge of the metal folding chair and fidgeted now and then. “What will you do when you’re done serving your time, Kim? Where will you go?”
Kim gave a mirthless chuckle. “That’s so far in the future there’s no point even thinking about it. The last year has been so far from what I could have predicted—what’s the point in trying to plan for the next year, let alone look ten years down the road?”
“We want to help you, Roland and I.”
“What do you mean? Is that why you want to talk to the judge?”
Her eyebrows arched. “Your attorney told you about that?”
“Just that you wanted to speak on my behalf. I don’t understand why, though.”
“You’ve been dealt such a difficult hand, Kim. Such a difficult life. And it pains us to see you locked up for something that really wasn’t even your fault. We just want to encourage the judge to show you mercy and compassion.”
Mercy and compassion.
Kim shook her head. “I don’t think those words apply to my life.”
“Maybe not before. But now…” Ruth smiled. “They’re the hallmarks of Christ. Your life is new in him. The old rules don’t apply anymore. There’s no telling what your future holds.”
Kim ruminated on those words that night when sleep was elusive in the face of the next day’s sentencing. Her old life held three bright spots: graduating from foster care relatively unscathed, starting her career, and having Anne. Three accomplishments in twenty-five years. With the bar set that low, God wouldn’t have to work that hard to make her new life better.
K
IM FOLLOWED THE BAILIFF
into the courtroom and sat where he pointed. She rubbed her damp palms over her thighs as her eyes flitted from one new sight to another. What little breakfast she’d been able to eat tossed with the butterflies in her stomach.
Mercy and compassion, Lord. Mercy and compassion.
The doors in the back of the courtroom opened. Debbie and her parents entered, and Kim’s butterflies danced with apprehension. Ruth and Roland smiled at her, their countenances warm and encouraging. Debbie’s face was unreadable, though she looked more peaceful than she had the day she and her family had first visited her at the jail. They took seats directly behind her, and Kim felt her courage grow just from knowing they were there.
“All rise. The Honorable Judge Fullerton presiding.” Kim stood along with everyone else in the room, then settled back into her seat as the judge began the proceedings with another defendant. She paid close attention to what went on so she would know what to do when it was her turn. Her attorney had briefed her on what to expect, but his explanation flew from her head when she entered the wood-paneled room.
The judge completed the sentencing of the first defendant, then the bailiff said, “Next on the docket, the state versus Kimberly Slone.” Her attorney stuffed his crossword puzzle into his briefcase as he stood along with Kim.
The judge stared down at Kim. “It always makes me nervous when a defendant decides to skip the trial. But if it’s what you want, then it’s okay by me. You’re still comfortable being sentenced today in lieu of a trial, Ms. Slone?”
“Yes, your honor.”
The judge nodded. “Alright then. Now I understand the parents of the victim wish to speak on your behalf. Are they present?”
“Yes, your honor, we are,” Kim heard Roland say.
The bailiff opened the gate to admit Ruth and Roland, who came to stand beside Kim’s attorney. Ruth cleared her throat. “My name is Ruth Truman, your honor. My family and I had the chance to speak with Ms. Slone and hear her side of the story. Based on what she said, and on information we learned about the days leading up to our daughter’s death, we believe she committed suicide by pulling in front of Ms. Slone. There was no way Kim—Ms. Slone—could have avoided hitting her.
“Since then, Ms. Slone has been haunted by guilt, which drove her to seek punishment in an extreme fashion. Our family feels Ms. Slone has suffered enough already. Any sentence handed down to her would be, in our opinion, excessive and unnecessary. I know we’re not the law, but we
are
the ones who are supposed to be vindicated by her punishment, and we feel we already have been. So, your honor, we would like to ask for mercy for Ms. Slone.”
The judge shifted in his seat, eyes fixed not on Kim but on Ruth and Roland. “This is an unusual turn of events,” he said. “It’s not often that a victim’s family asks for a sentence to be lessened.” He shifted his gaze to Kim. “Ms. Slone, may I ask what punishment you sought to take care of your guilt?”
She hadn’t expected this. She licked her lips, which were suddenly dry, and stood to speak. “My fiancé beat me up, your honor. A number of times. I let him because I figured I deserved it.”
“How long did you submit yourself to his abuse?”
“About a year, your honor.”
“And what made you decide to turn yourself in?”
She sighed. “It’s sort of a long story, sir. He began to hit my daughter—”
“You have a child?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where is she now?”
“In foster care. Neither me or my fiancé have any family, and he’s in jail now as well.” The judge nodded. “Anyway—I left him because he began hurting her. My neighbor took me to the shelter where Mrs. Truman’s daughter works…” She explained her experience there, the things Debbie told her, and the reason why she decided she had to come forward for what she had done. “The Trumans are being very gracious, your honor, and I really appreciate their compassion. But I also understand that the law has to be followed.” She fought to keep her composure. “All I ask is that I be able to see my daughter whenever possible. I don’t want her growing up the way I did.”
The room was silent as Kim sat down. The judge’s eyes did not move from Kim’s face, even as she sat down and bowed her head. Each time she peeked up, he was still staring at her.
“This is quite the story,” he said after an eternity. He looked to the prosecuting attorney. “Counselor, do you have anything you would like to add?”
The state’s attorney stood. “No, your honor.”
The judge nodded slowly. “Please rise, Ms. Slone.” Kim stood, her legs shaking beneath her. “I hereby sentence you to five years in prison, time already served.”
Ruth clapped her hands over her mouth, her face frozen in surprise. Roland beamed. Kim looked to her attorney. “What does that mean?”
He smiled. “It means you’re free.”
Kim glanced out the window. “I think Joshua and Maddie are here.”
Ruth frowned. “Not Debbie?”
“No, I don’t see—oh wait, there she is. She drove separately.” Kim set down the stack of linen napkins and opened the front door as the three approached. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Joshua and Maddie replied. Hugs were given all around; then Kim went back to setting the table while Joshua took Maddie into the kitchen for a drink and Debbie sank onto the sofa.
“How did lunch go?” Kim asked Debbie as she arranged the silverware on the napkins.
“It went well, thanks. The ladies appreciated the cookies. Thanks again for making them.”
Kim grinned. “The least I could do. I’m glad they turned out okay.”
“Oh—one of the ladies has a job interview on Wednesday. Would you be able to fit her in before then?”
“No problem. I’ll come over Tuesday; just let me know when she’s free. I don’t have any appointments that week.”
Debbie frowned. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long to get things off the ground.”
Kim shrugged. “It’ll take a little time, but that’s alright. I took an ad out in the little in-house newspaper that they put out at the assisted-living place I was telling you about. I’ve already gotten three calls from people there, and the ad has only been in for a week. And I’m going to talk to their management and see if I can do a weekly visit there, just set up in the rec room or something and take some walk-ins.”
“That’s a great idea.”
Kim smiled and dealt out the plates. “Thanks.”
Debbie looked around. “Where’s Anne?”
“Sleeping. She should be up in time to wreak havoc on the dinner table, though.”
Debbie laughed. “Perfect.” She stood. “I’m going to get some egg nog. Can I get you something?”
“No thanks.” The distant wail of a hungry baby sounded upstairs. “Speak of the devil.” She jogged up the stairs to her room and lifted Anne off the mattress on the floor. “Perfect timing, baby girl!” She sat in the chair near the window to nurse her and stared down to the street where her van was parked. A conflicting mix of pride and humility welled as she read the white lettering on the rear window:
Style on the Go.
She’d splurged last week to get it done, and knowing that her little business was being advertised everywhere she drove sent a zing through her stomach. She knew it was just a matter of time before she had a full clientele. Until then she would enjoy all the extra time she had with Anne and the Trumans.
Ruth called the family to dinner awhile later, and Kim sat Anne up to take her downstairs. The others had just begun to take their seats, and Maddie dragged out a chair at her end of the table and said, “Miss Kim, can you and Anne sit by me?”
“Sure, Maddie. But I don’t know how long Anne is going to want to sit.”
“I’ll play with her when I’m done eating.”
“Thanks, sweetie, I appreciate that.” Kim ruffled the little girl’s hair and sat down beside her. She stood Anne on her lap as the others took their places, letting her bounce and babble at Pete, who sat across from them.
Roland reached his hands out to Pete and Kim, who sat on either side of him. “Shall we say grace?” Hands were clasped around the table and heads bowed in silence. “Father, you have showered us with innumerable blessings. Your provision and grace abound, and we are humbled by your generosity. Thank you for welcoming us into your family with open arms.”
Kim snuck a peek at the others around the table, surveying the family that had welcomed her with open arms. Their offer of a home after being released from jail had changed her life in more ways than she had expected. Their wisdom, their friendship, and their assistance with her new business and with Anne not only made it possible for her to get back on her feet—they made her lifelong dream for a family a reality.
“Thank you for this meal, and for the fellowship, and for the love we feel for you and each other. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Roland squeezed her hand and gave her a wink. She smiled back, still shy in the face of his attention, but hungry for it at the same time. Beside her, Maddie hopped up on her knees and reached for a roll. “Who gets to do the wishbone?” she asked.
“You may have it,” Ruth told her. Maddie squealed.
“What’s the wishbone?” Kim asked her.
“It’s the bone that you pull apart and get a wish for.”
Joshua chuckled. “Sort of, anyway.” He leaned forward to talk to Kim around Maddie. “Two people make silent wishes and then grab the ends of the wishbone and pull. Whoever gets the bigger piece is supposed to have their wish granted.”
“Want to do it with me, Kim?” Maddie asked.
“That’s sweet, Maddie, thanks.” She looked around at the table and smiled. “But I already have everything I want.”