Leroy Reid spoke for the first time. “Let’s go, Mrs. Anderson.” He turned aside and Janice noticed the hopelessness in his stooped shoulders, but she hardened her heart.
“Oh, let them come in, Janice,” Brooke wailed. “It’s so cold outdoors.”
Brooke’s plea softened her attitude. Janice unlocked the door and stood aside to let the three people in. Still seething with anger and resentment, she motioned them into the living room.
“Sit down and speak your piece.”
Her father looked around the room. “The old place looks just like it did when I was a boy.”
Knowing her father had avoided Mountjoy for years, he must have been desperate to have come here. Unless the lure of John Reid’s money had overcome his fear, Janice thought ironically.
“Miss Reid, I’m Annabelle Anderson, your parents’ parole officer. They’ll report to me regularly, but they need a place to stay, as well as someone to be responsible for them. You’re their closest relative.”
“I can’t deny that,” Janice said, “but let me make my position clear. I don’t owe my parents anything. The only thing they’ve ever done for me was to bring me into the world. I don’t remember how I managed until I was old enough to fend for myself. But I’ve been taking care of Brooke since she was born.”
Turning to her father, she said, “How did you know where to find me?”
He pulled at his collar. “Albert wrote me a letter and told me John had left everything to you.”
“And he wanted you to join him in trying to break the will, is that it?”
Shamefaced, Leroy dropped his eyes and wouldn’t look at her.
“Janice,” her mother scolded, “you ought to be ashamed talking to your father like that.”
“Your parents have both been model prisoners,” Mrs. Anderson said. “They’re rehabilitated, ready to live productive lives.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Janice’s head was aching, and the emotional pain in her heart was excruciating. She found no pleasure in tongue-lashing her parents, but the sight of them had unleashed all of the pent-up emotions and horrors of her childhood.
“What is your decision?” Mrs. Anderson persisted.
Janice felt her face warming. “I’ve told you my decision. They cannot live here! Why did you dump this on me without warning?”
The woman shrugged her shoulders and got up. “There was a lack of communication between the prison and the parole board. Their papers got mislaid and your parents arrived today unexpectedly.”
Brooke had been sitting quietly on the couch, and she begged, “Don’t put them out in the cold, Janice.”
Brooke’s agony reached Janice’s heart and she said, “Very well. They can spend the night here, but Mrs. Anderson, you must come back in the morning to make other arrangements.”
When she opened the door for Mrs. Anderson to leave, Janice brought in the two small suitcases—the only belongings these two people had to show for forty years of living. She set the cases down in the hallway and leaned her head against the door.
God, forgive me, she prayed silently. I have neither love nor respect for these two people. I’m afraid to trust them. What can I do?
It took all of the willpower she possessed to go back to the living room. Silence filled the house, broken only by Brooke’s sobbing.
“We didn’t intend to barge in on you like this,” Leroy explained, “but we had to tell them who our next of kin was. We didn’t know they’d bring us here.”
“Well, you’re here for the night, so I’ll have to deal with it. Have you had any supper?”
“No,” Florence said.
“Brooke and I had just finished eating, but I’ll fix something for you. Come into the kitchen. You can stay here if you want to, Brooke.”
They sat silently at the table as Janice opened a can of vegetable soup. While the soup heated, she prepared two chicken salad sandwiches, got two apples from the pantry and put the food on the table. While they ate she washed the dishes she and Brooke had used for supper.
“I didn’t tell Albert I’d help cheat you out of John’s money. I didn’t answer his letter,” her father said.
“Uncle John’s estate has already been transferred to me, so I’m not worried about that. This house was in shambles when I came here, and I’ve spent a lot of money renovating it. I intend to have this house looking like it used to, but I’ve got a long way to go. I’m working part time to make expenses, and I can’t afford to support two more people.”
“We’ll get out tomorrow morning.”
“It’s not as easy as that. The parole officer won’t allow it. If you did get off of drugs while you were in prison, you’ll go back to your old ways if somebody doesn’t hold you accountable.”
“Do you hate us, Janice?” her mother asked in a quiet voice.
Janice pondered the question for several minutes, and the tension in the room was maddening. “I used to hate you, but at VOH I learned a way to live without hate. But I’ve never forgiven you for the way we had to live as children. The thing I hate most is that Brooke and I are making a new life, and now you’ve spoiled that.”
“We didn’t aim to,” her father said.
Wearily, Janice said, “No, I don’t suppose you did, but it’s too late now. I imagine you’re tired. You can sleep in the living room. The couch folds out to a full-sized bed.”
“We can sleep upstairs,” Leroy said.
“Those rooms aren’t ready for sleeping yet. You’ll have to sleep in the living room. The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”
While her parents ate, she’d noticed Brooke moping toward their bedroom, still crying.
“As you’ve done it unto the least of these, you’ve done it unto Me,” filtered through Janice’s mind while she took cushions and the quilt off the back of the couch. She’d heard Miss Caroline quote that Scripture countless times, and it seemed as if her former teacher was telling her now that she had to look after her parents. She took clean sheets, quilts, pillows and pillowcases from a trunk in the hallway and made the bed as comfortable as she could. There was no door between the living room and the hallway, so she couldn’t give them any privacy.
After her parents were settled in bed, Janice went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Brooke was huddled in bed, her eyes swollen from crying, her body trembling. Janice sat on the bed and pulled Brooke tightly into her arms.
“Why did they have to come back?” Brooke whispered. “We’re getting along by ourselves. I can’t even have a sleepover, because my friends might not want anything to do with me now.”
How could she comfort her sister when she had so many reservations of her own?
“It they’re true friends they won’t desert you,” Janice said, sounding more certain than what she was. The children’s opinions would be tempered by what the adults did. “I won’t let them disrupt your life. They can’t live here.”
“But if they don’t, where will they live? What if they’re homeless and have to look for food in garbage cans like Hungry did? We took care of him.”
The implication being, Janice assumed, that if she’d given Hungry a home, she should do the same for her parents.
“So you want them to live with us?”
“No,” Brooke said hesitantly, “but I feel sorry for them.”
Brooke had been too young to remember how they’d been neglected as children and Janice hadn’t told her.
“Well, I don’t feel sorry for them,” Janice said bitterly, “but I do feel responsible for them. I’ll help them—I only hope I can do it without ruining our lives.” She helped Brooke back down and tucked the covers around her. “You go to sleep and don’t worry about it. I’ll try to work out something.”
She closed the bedroom door behind her, took her fleece-lined coat from the hall cabinet and put on her heavy boots. She opened the front door and went out on the porch. Hungry stuck his head out of his house, his tail thumping on the floor.
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br /> Shivering from the cold, Janice tied the hood of the coat around her face, stuck her hands deep into her pockets and walked back and forth across the porch. Her parents were only in their mid-forties, but their hair was streaked with gray and their faces were prematurely wrinkled. She’d remembered her parents as being excessively thin, but both Leroy and Florence had gained weight while they were in prison. They looked better than they had the last time she’d seen them. Sorrowfully, she wished that she had one pleasant memory of her parents.
Her fingers wrapped around the phone in her pocket. Janice longed to call Lance and tell him what had happened. It was only ten o’clock, and if she called him, she knew he’d come to her immediately. She also considered calling Miss Caroline. But when it was all said and done, the decision was hers and no one else could help her.
“God,” she whispered, “I don’t know what to do. I know the Bible says to ‘honor your father and mother,’ but how can I? They’re not honorable people. You know what they’ve done. I have a responsibility to Brooke, as well as to them. Shouldn’t she be my first priority?”
Her parents had destroyed her childhood. Was it right that they ruin the rest of her life? John Reid had given her a chance to better herself, but now the bottom had dropped out of her plans for the future.
She didn’t know how long she paced, but when her legs got so tired she couldn’t stand any longer, she sank down on the floor, leaned against the wall of the house and rested her arms and head on bended knees. She was no closer to a solution to the dilemma than she’d been an hour ago. She knew she’d have to go in the house soon, because her feet and hands were getting numb.
Overwhelmed with the enormity of the burden that had been placed on her, Janice muttered, “God, what can I do?” Hungry heard and came to nuzzle against her.
Although she thought she hadn’t learned much spiritual knowledge at VOH, as had often happened in the past, a Bible verse slipped into her mind.
“And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”
All of the children who came to VOH had some forgiving to do, and many chapel messages had dealt with forgiveness. Was God telling her through Scripture what she had to do? Janice yearned for God’s full forgiveness for her actions and thoughts in the past. Would she ever have the peace of heart and mind she longed for until she forgave her parents?
The sobs that wracked her body were so unusual and so overwhelming that she felt weak. Janice had learned long ago that crying didn’t solve problems and she hadn’t cried for years. But once the floodgates opened, she couldn’t stop crying. Hungry nudged her again, whining softly, licking away the rivulets of tears that coursed down her face. She put her arm around the dog.
Her tears washed away the bitterness she’d held in her heart as long as she could remember. She felt cleansed, a new person inside. She softly hummed a tune she’d sung with Maddie at VOH. One phrase kept rolling through her mind—“Nothing between my soul and the Savior.” She was free at last of the debilitating, unforgiving spirit that had dominated her heart for years.
Stiff from the cold and her hour of sitting on the porch, physically spent, Janice went into the house, taking Hungry to his bed in the pantry. She was at peace with God, but she still didn’t know what to do about her parents. The soft warmth within did nothing to soothe the coldness of her body. Undressing, she put on pajamas, wrapped in a terry-cloth robe and laid an extra blanket on her bed. Brooke seemed to be sleeping peacefully and Janice crawled under the covers, but she couldn’t sleep. She knew she would have to make a decision in the morning and she spent the night considering her options.
Her parents were still sleeping when Janice left the house to take Brooke to school.
“Should I tell Taylor what happened?” Brooke asked.
“If you want to. You can’t keep a secret in a town this size.”
Her parents had gotten up when she returned to Mountjoy. They’d folded up the bed and were sitting side by side on the couch.
Janice said, “I’ve taken Brooke to school. I’ll fix your breakfast before Mrs. Anderson comes.”
They followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“How long have you been living here?” Florence asked.
“We came to Stanton in August and moved to Mountjoy the last week in October. We had an apartment before then. Nothing had been done to the house for years—it took a lot of work to make it livable.”
She sat at the table and drank a cup of tea while they ate their breakfast of eggs and sausage.
“Before Mrs. Anderson comes, I want you to know that I’ve forgiven you for the way you treated us when we were children. I can’t forget it, but Lord willing, I hope to eventually have the grace to put it behind. However, I won’t let you move in with us.”
“I’m not keen on livin’ here anyway,” her father said, with a trace of humor. “I’ve always been afraid of Mountjoy.”
She thought wryly that if he’d experienced the things that had happened at his ancestral home the past few months, he would be even more afraid.
“I will help you get a new start in life, but I cannot support you, too. There’s still a lot of work to be done on the house, but I’m planning on paying for it out of my salary. I’m keeping the money I still have from my inheritance for Brooke’s college expenses.”
Hungry started barking and Janice guessed that Mrs. Anderson had returned. But when she went to the door, Lance stood there. He opened the storm door, entered, and took her in his arms. She put her arms around his waist and clung to him as if he was the only anchor in the stormy sea of her life.
“Brooke told me what had happened,” he said softly. “Why didn’t you call me?”
She motioned him back out on the porch and closed the door. When she shivered at the cold wind blowing across the front of the house, he pulled her close and wrapped his coat around her.
“You don’t know how much I wanted to call you, but what could you have done?”
“What I’m doing now,” he said, planting a kiss on her soft curls.
Briefly she told him about the mercy God had granted to help her forgive her parents. “So I’m in a better mood to cope with the situation now than I thought I would be. You might as well come in and meet them.”
“Just for a minute.”
Knowing how much she resented her parents, Lance was relieved to see that her eyes were peaceful and her attitude positive. He greeted the Reids graciously, turned down Janice’s offer of breakfast and explained that he had to return to school. Her parents eyed Lance speculatively, but they didn’t ask any questions after he left.
Lance hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes when Mrs. Anderson came. Janice invited her to join them at the kitchen table and poured a cup of coffee for her.
“What have you decided?” Mrs. Anderson asked directly.
“My parents cannot move in with me, but I do feel a responsibility to help them until they get on their feet. With your help, we can find jobs for them and arrange for housing in the low-income apartments in Stanton. I’ll buy furniture for them and some clothes now, but I expect them to pay me back. When I left VOH, I had nothing, so I know how difficult it is to start from scratch, but I did, so I know it’s possible. I’ll supervise their income and expenses until they prove to me that they’re capable of handling their own finances.”
Mrs. Anderson turned to Leroy and Florence. “That seems fair enough to me, what do you say?”
“It’s morn’n we deserve,” Leroy said, “but it’s gonna be hard.”
“I know it will because you’ve never been able to handle money,” Janice said. “When you get paid, you must put some money in a savings account and keep out some money to pay your loan to me, before you use anything for yourself. If you overspend before the next paycheck you’ll do without.”
“Janice, you’ve become hard,” Florence said.
“I’m not being any harder on you than I’ve been on myself. Once you prove to me and to your parole officer that you can take care of yourself, I’ll gladly give up my guardianship rights.”
“I’ll also be checking regularly on your welfare and behavior,” Mrs. Anderson said, a note of warning in her voice.
“And I encourage you to go to church,” Janice continued. “You can go where Brooke and I go or choose a church of your own. I’ll admit I want you to straighten up so Brooke and I won’t be ashamed of our parents, but for your own sake, you need to live worthwhile lives. I won’t keep you from coming here, as long as you realize that you’re visitors. And Brooke can decide if she wants to spend time with you.”
Within a week, Janice arranged for an apartment for her parents, and Mrs. Anderson found jobs for them. Since she’d bought used furniture for herself, Janice didn’t have any compunction about furnishing her parents’ home with secondhand furniture. Florence had taken a secretarial course while she was in prison, and she was hired to work in the office at the apartment complex. Leroy had learned the carpentry trade. He found a job with a local contractor, whose place of business was only a few blocks from the apartment, so Leroy could walk to work.
By the end of the first month, Janice began to breathe easier. She had twice invited her parents to eat dinner at Mountjoy. They seemed to be making friends, and they occasionally attended Bethesda Church. Brooke had come home from school a few times in tears because of comments her peers had made about Leroy and Florence, but her close friends had not turned against Brooke.
Although she was subtle about it, Janice knew that Henrietta created situations to keep Brooke busy, so she could have more time with Lance. One Saturday afternoon, Henrietta asked Brooke to go shopping with her in the county seat because she needed someone to carry her packages. “We’ll take in a movie while we’re there and maybe eat out, so don’t expect her back until evening.”
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