by Gay Courter
I went to the office kitchen and made myself a cup of spice tea. After a few sips, I felt calmer. What was the worst thing that could happen? Tammy could hang up on me, reject her children through me. They would never have to know. I could handle the disappointment and move on from there. The tea was bitter in my mouth. I returned to the kitchen and added a large teaspoon of sugar.
After I finished the tea, I wondered what the Stevenson children might gain. Could this be their ticket out of foster care? If Rich Jr. had the love and support of his very own mother, even he might overcome his horrible predicament. Then I conjured up Tammy standing at an airport gate her arms outstretched welcoming her long-lost children into her life. I knew it was a long shot, but it was the only one I had.
I didn’t contact Tammy that day, or the next.
I made guesses as to the best time to call, finally settling on Saturday at nine-thirty in the morning, a time her kids might be watching cartoons and she might not be too busy, yet too early for her to be out running errands. I wrote down a few lines and tried them out on my husband. (Although I kept the names and details of cases confidential and never let him see the files, Phil could not help overhearing some of my phone conversations or wanting to know where I was going and what I was doing, if only for safety reasons. I often discussed the theories of how to approach a case with him, and his advice and viewpoints have been invaluable.)
When I worried about disrupting Tammy’s life, he asked, “Do you represent her or her children?” Then he said, “I think you should record the phone call.”
“That’s illegal!”
“Think of what you have to gain.”
“The click of the phone if she hangs up on me.”
“Exactly! The kid needs to hear it, otherwise she’s going to continue with her fantasy forever.” He came around and massaged my tense shoulder blades. “And what if the mother says something wonderful, like she wants to see her children? Wouldn’t it be great for her daughter to hear those words in her mother’s voice?”
“How would I do it?”
“I’ll set it up for you. Which phone do you want to use?”
With great reluctance I allowed Phil to put the tape in place, figuring I’d deal with the consequences later. What follows is a transcript of that call, with some minor editing for clarity, confidentiality, and deletions of extraneous or overlapping comments.
TAMMY: Hello.
GAY: Hi, is this Tammy?
TAMMY: This is she.
GAY: Hi, my name is Gay, and I’m calling because your daughter, Alicia, asked me to help her find you.
TAMMY: Oh?
GAY: In Florida.
TAMMY. Yeah?
GAY: Is this a good time to talk or should I—
TAMMY: It’s fine, it’s fine.
GAY: I don’t think you’ve been in touch with the family for many years and you probably don’t know what’s been going on.
TAMMY: NO, I don’t. The last I heard was more than ten years ago, and I was told they did not want me to have any contact with them.
GAY: Well, in the last six months—there’s been some legal problems with Mr. Stevenson, their father. He was accused of sexually abusing Alicia, and some of Alicia’s girlfriends, and also Rich—
TAMMY. Rich was accused of it too?
GAY: No, Mr. Stevenson, the father, was accused of abusing Rich. And so Alicia and Rich were taken away from Mr. Stevenson and put in foster homes. They left Cory there because there was no indication that he was abused. But Alicia and Rich were real worried about their brother and they went to court and stood up there and very bravely told the judge that they thought their brother was at risk and they got him removed from their father’s home.
TAMMY: Okay, good.
GAY: The current situation is that Mr. Stevenson is going to have a criminal trial coming up. That’s the way I got to know Alicia and all the children. I volunteered to be something called a Guardian ad Litem, where I represent the children’s best interests and I make sure they are in good foster homes and they are getting their medical and psychological care and no lawyers are giving them a hard time. I stand there as the adult when they can’t speak for themselves.
TAMMY: That’s good.
GAY: And one of my jobs has been to get to know the kids real well, and I’m very fond of Alicia. We were out to eat and she said she always wondered what happened to her mom and could I help her find you. I didn’t know if I was allowed to do that or how difficult it was to find somebody, but I asked the people in the office I work with if I was allowed to do that and they said yes. And so it wasn’t very hard because it was just following the addresses. And I guess HRS—that’s the foster care agency—they never even went looking for you.
TAMMY: There was a lot going on when Red, their father, and I divorced. He and my father didn’t want me to see the children. However, I tried several times to see them.
GAY: That’s what Alicia said. She remembers you coming to the house and she wonders if you wanted to see her or wondered what ever happened to her.
TAMMY: They made sure they had an unlisted phone number so I couldn’t get it and I was never allowed to see them.
GAY: That must be hard.
TAMMY: The last pictures I have, gosh, they were just little guys.
GAY: Also, I don’t want you to think I am calling because you have any legal or financial responsibility because you don’t. That’s not an issue.
TAMMY: I’m not worried about that a bit.
GAY: I haven’t even told Alicia I got this phone number because you might have a life of your own or you might have reasons for not wanting to get involved. That would be very understandable.
TAMMY: No, I definitely will get involved, definitely. I always hoped that when they got old enough they would try and find me.
GAY: Good.
TAMMY: So, I’m open. I’m available.
GAY: Are you remarried?
TAMMY: Yeah, I’m remarried and I have a ten-year-old son, Billy, who knows that he has other brothers and a sister. And I have a little two-year-old daughter, Heather.
GAY: Unfortunately none of your children are living together. Rich has a lot of emotional problems. He has not done well and he’s been in a lot of special camps and schools.
TAMMY: They started that when he was younger. His dad said that he was afraid Rich would end up killing Cory, so he had him to psychiatrists and all sorts of different people. He tried to tell me that I was the problem. I would very much like to have something to do with all three of them again.
GAY: Well, Rich is the worst off and, of course, he is at that difficult age when boys have all those hormones raging. Despite the things that have happened to Alicia, she’s a tough cookie and has a lot going for her. She has a terrific foster mom.
TAMMY: Good, that’s half the battle right there.
GAY: Cory is a bright bouncy kid who is very clever with his mouth. They’re all very pretty children. They have these gorgeous blue eyes, especially Cory.
TAMMY: Oh, he always did!
GAY. And these big dark lashes. Cory’s at the age right now where he’s really sprouting. Alicia is about five foot two.
TAMMY: Like me. That’s my height.
GAY: Apparently Alicia has been molested for a number of years.
TAMMY: NO wonder Red didn’t want me to have anything to do with them.
GAY: That may have something to do with it. But considering everything that has happened to Alicia, she’s a terrific kid. Do you work these days?
TAMMY. No, I’m home all the time.
GAY: And your husband knows they exist?
TAMMY: Sure he does. We keep no secrets from each other.
GAY: What would you like to happen next?
TAMMY: Alicia can call me. Anything she wants to do. Please let them know, let Rich know, let any of them know, that I am here if they need me.
GAY. For some reason Rich believes you are dead.
TAMMY: His fathe
r probably told him that. What does Cory think?
GAY: He hasn’t brought it up.
TAMMY: Cory was so young when I left. All he knows is what he has been told, and I’m sure it was not good.
GAY: Alicia really believes in her heart that you would like to be in touch with her.
TAMMY: I would.
GAY: Oh, that’s so good! I didn’t want her to be disappointed.
TAMMY: No, no, no! The only reason I haven’t had contact with them is because of my father and their father.
GAY: Alicia told me they threw you out when you tried to get back there—
TAMMY: They did. See, when I left, Red was having an affair with another woman—my best friend, Denise. My dad knew about it too and didn’t think I should leave over it. I told him I was not going to live that kind of a life and Dad said, “Honey, I’ll give you whatever you want, any amount of money, if you can stick it out.” I told him no amount of money was going to make a difference. When I left, my father told me that when I was able to I could come and get them. But then he got quite bitter about it and changed his mind. I knew back in those days that Red had sexual problems, but I had no idea that they were in that direction. None whatsoever, or I never would have left any of those children in that situation.
GAY: Well, probably it didn’t come out until later, when they were a bit older. Is Denise the one Red later married?
TAMMY: Yes.
GAY: There are documents saying that her daughter, Sunny Rhodes, was removed from the home because Mr. Stevenson had abused her and she went to live with her real father, Mr. Rhodes. When little Sunny left, that’s when he apparently started in on Alicia. Now none of this has been proven in court. I would bet, though, that the way things are going, Red will be in jail serving some time pretty soon.
TAMMY: Well, that’s the place you put those sort of people. I hope in there he will get the help he needs.
GAY: Since he really wants to get Cory back, he has had to work with the courts even before any criminal problems in terms of getting therapy. Whether or not he completes the therapy and does all the things he has to do to get Cory back is unknown. It is hard to keep children away from their parents legally.
TAMMY: There should be something I can do to keep the kids away from him. I never gave up full custody.
GAY: There probably is. I’m not a lawyer, but I’m a mom too. To know this has happened to a child of yours has to be quite upsetting.
TAMMY: I think it would be best to get them totally away from this situation once all of this is over.
GAY: I don’t know what’s around in terms of money, but it might be easier if one person came to Florida rather than two or three of them going to Washington. You might want to tuck that away and think about it. They certainly would be available to be visited. And I’m a person who can act as an intermediary between the people involved—foster care, HRS, lawyers, and courts. I have a credit card I can use to make free calls, so I’d be happy to keep you informed.
TAMMY: That would be great. I’d really appreciate that.
GAY: Let me give the news to Alicia. This is going to flip her out. Fifteen-year-old girls … you know …
TAMMY: They’re very emotional. Just pick the right time and do it the right way.
GAY: She’s about forty-five minutes from here. I’m thinking of calling her to find out if she’s home. I hate to tell her this on the phone. If I can get down there, I’ll see her now, then I can make a credit card call for her if she is ready to speak to you.
TAMMY: I always hoped they’d contact me someday. I just don’t like the fact that Rich thinks I’m dead.
GAY: That might be easier for him to believe than being deserted. But Alicia has this memory of seeing you in a car and you not being allowed to get to her. That gave her hope that you wanted her.
TAMMY: I do. I do! Every one of them! Cory has a birthday coming up.
GAY: Yes, he does.
TAMMY: I never forget. At least there will be some contact from now on. Now you tell Alicia I love her. Just tell her … I want her … she’s always been loved.
GAY: I will.
TAMMY: Thanks for calling, Gay.
GAY: Thank you, Tammy.
I popped out the tape and called Ruth Levy, who said that Alicia was home. I told her I had something to give Alicia and would be there in about an hour. During the ride I replayed the tape, tears welling up as I listened to Tammy’s warm, affectionate voice. “I definitely will get involved,” she had said as though she really meant it. The tape was indeed a precious record and I was thankful Phil had persuaded me to make it.
Now, how was I going to break the news to Alicia? I practiced a few phrases before I remembered what she had said to me when we were alone the first time in my car. I smiled as I decided to echo her own words back to her.
“I guess I should tell you that I have been doing something illegal,” I said to Alicia when she opened the front door. Her eyes widened. “It’s illegal to tape a phone conversation without the person’s permission.” I held up the tape. “It’s a call to your mother. I found her.”
“No! No way!”
I beamed and nodded. “Really. That’s why I recorded it. To bring you proof.”
She staggered backward down the hallway. “She … doesn’t … want …”
“No! No! She wants you! She loves you! She always has!”
Ruth Levy, who had been folding laundry, came to see what was going on. One of the other foster girls, who had overheard the conversation, filled her in.
“You found her? So soon? How is it possible?” Seeing Alicia’s distraught expression, Ruth waved the other girls away. “Why don’t you take Gay to your room?”
Alicia closed the door. I handed her the tape. She placed it in her pink plastic tape recorder and pressed Play.
There were the electronic beeps of me punching in the credit card number, then Tammy’s first hello.
“Hi, is this Tammy?”
“This is she,” Tammy said.
Listening to her mother’s voice for the first time in more than ten years, Alicia clutched the tape player to her chest and sat down on the lower berth of her bunk bed.
“Hi, my name is Gay, and I’m calling because your daughter, Alicia, asked me to help her find you.”
Tears splashed dark spots on Alicia’s violet sweater. I handed her some tissues and kept one for myself. Together we listened and cried as I heard the same remarkable conversation for the third time.
After we had talked for a while, Ruth came in and I told her about the call. I asked Alicia if she wanted to speak with her mother. She shook her head.
“I guess she’s not ready,” Ruth said. “It’s quite a shock.”
I saw a shadow of rivalry in Ruth’s expression that made me wince inside. Should I have warned her that I had located Tammy or at least have told her why I was coming over before I did? Then she might have broken the news to Alicia first. I had wanted to do it, but was that fair? Ruth was Alicia’s emotional support person. Not only had I stolen something from their relationship, but I had ignored the fact that Tammy might supplant Ruth in Alicia’s heart, even though legally it would be months or years before Tammy could regain custody of any of her children.
I apologized to Ruth for not including her sooner, which she deflected graciously. I decided it was time to leave them alone. Ruth saw me to the door.
“Give me Tammy’s number and I’ll have Alicia call her when she is ready,” Ruth said.
I agreed, then admitted to myself that I didn’t like being excluded either. Still, I knew it was best handled as a private matter between Alicia and her two mothers.
On the way home, though, I felt triumphant. For the first time I could see a shining light beyond the impending travails of the trial. I turned up the music on the radio to hear Bette Midler singing “Wind Beneath My Wings” and soared along toward home feeling just a little bit like a hero myself.
What I had accomplished so far
had given me the strength I needed to face Rich Stevenson.
Monday morning I made the necessary phone calls and started out for the small city sixty miles to the north where Rich was. The Three Rivers Mental Health Facility looked like any other industrial building in an office park complex. I presented my identification at the glass window.
Dr. Corinne Newman motioned me through a door and locked it behind her. She took me into an office crowded with four desks and offered me a seat. She studied me for a long moment, then removed her glasses and slipped them into the breast pocket of her lab coat. “Before we begin, you did bring your credentials, didn’t you?”
I handed over the packet I had shown the sheriff’s office clerk. The doctor, however, made photocopies for her files.
“I’m sorry to report that Richard has had a bad morning. After breakfast he refused to replace his tray on the rack. An orderly asked him twice, then physically helped him comply because it’s important to maintain routines. When he resisted, the orderly wrestled him to the carpet. Richard sustained a laceration to his right eye. After that we had to restrain him, and thought it best to medicate him.”
“With what?”
“Ah, Thorazine, do you know what that is?”
“An antipsychotic,” I replied, trying to suppress my rage as I thought about my kid being injured, shackled, and mollified with chemicals. “Does he take that drug regularly?”
“No. He was on medication for the first few days until our behavior modification program started to show results and he kept gaining levels of privileges. This is really not an appropriate placement for him because it is basically a seventy-two-hour evaluation facility.”
“Where should he go next?”
