by Jenni James
Bryant nudged me over and sat on the arm of my chair. “It sounds like your aunt and uncle are worried they’re going to get in trouble, so they’re trying to slow the process to give them more time to get their story straight. My dad has worked on hundreds of cases like this and has protected kids in way worse situations than yours. Once a lawyer is involved, they call the cops and try to write up a report. It’s a scare tactic. Without court orders, the cops aren’t going to get involved. They just call to see if their badges can sway people to get along. What the lawyer is trying to do isn’t legal. He and my dad and the cops all know it—which is why he figures they’re just trying to stall.”
Everything was confusing. “Does it matter where they interview me? Do Clarise and David have any rights?”
“No. Your interview will be privately done, no matter what. My dad will see to that. A lot of the time, abusers try to be there so they can intimidate the one being questioned, but they can’t be there. It’s useless, but they’ll still use a lawyer and try it anyway. Just in case someone doesn’t know the law.”
“What are they going to ask me?”
He shook his head. “I’m not certain. But I know it won’t be anything too scary.”
“Are you sure I have to go through this?” I wished I was back in bed, or at school, or anywhere but here.
“You need to get evaluated for my dad to be granted custody. It’s procedure. And it protects those parents who have been wrongfully accused of something. The whole system is set up to help. It doesn’t always have the best reputation, but I promise, it’ll be okay in your case.”
That morning, it had been decided pretty early on that neither me nor Bryant would be going in to school. Dr. Bailey—Jeff, as he had asked to be called—moved several of his appointments to the evening, and then spoke to me for nearly two hours before contacting CPS and talking with the case manager. He’d also been on the phone with Clarise and the city cops more than once to let everyone know I was safe.
“It’s almost one. Are you hungry?” Bryant asked. “Do you think you could eat something?”
I was too nervous to eat breakfast, and now I was starving. “Yes.” Besides, it would give me something to do besides worrying about stuff I had no control over.
I followed Bryant through a labyrinth of rooms until we came to the large gourmet kitchen that would be any chef’s dream. I’d been there earlier that morning and met his sisters as they were heading off to school, but I honestly had no idea how to get there again without following Bryant.
He walked up to a beautiful antique-looking white cupboard and opened it to reveal a huge fridge. I couldn’t believe it’d been hidden away in there. “That’s amazing.”
“What?” He glanced around as I walked up to it. The thing looked about twice the size of any refrigerator I’d seen. Maybe even three times.
“I love how it’s made to look like a big cupboard.”
“Oh, yeah. My mom’s dream fridge, too.” He started to pull out a bunch of different foods. “Are sandwiches okay? We’ve got a lot of sliced meat and cheese.”
“Sandwiches work.” I helped him by taking the mustard and mayo from the door, though the mustard seemed a bit light. I opened it up and peered inside. “I think you’re out.”
Bryant pulled out the bread and lettuce and then shut the door. “Here, let me see.” He took the container and shook it. “Yep. Looks like we’ll have to do without. Can’t believe someone put it back in there empty.”
I don’t know why, but I started to laugh. Maybe it was good to know they were still a normal family. “I’m a little shocked,” I teased. “I can’t believe that with this huge castle and these incredible rooms and everything, you have an empty condiment bottle in your fancy fridge.”
“Whatever.” He chuckled. “I’m sure if my mom were here, this never would’ve happened.”
I began to spread mayo onto my bread. “I don’t know if I can actually eat a sandwich without mustard. My hopes are completely dashed.” I pulled off a few leaves of lettuce and washed them in the sink while Bryant opened the meat and cheeses.
“How big are we making these?” I asked as I eyed at least six different types of meat and three cheeses.
“Well, I don’t know what you like, so I brought it all out so you can choose. See? I’m being a gentleman.”
“Are you two already fighting like siblings?” Dr. Bailey—er, Jeff—asked as he came into the kitchen.
“Already fighting?” I laughed. “I’ve been wanting to kill Bryant since we first met.”
Bryant finished making his sandwich and took a bite. “So true.”
Jeff made quick work of the ingredients and shoveled a sandwich together. It must be a guy thing—I’d barely added a lettuce and a piece of cheese to mine. Bryant’s dad grabbed a plate and sat his sandwich on it. “Well, as long there’s no blood on the carpet, I guess I can’t complain.” He walked out of the kitchen with Bryant trying not to choke with laughter.
“I like your dad.” I grinned and placed a few pieces of meat and the other slice of bread on top.
“Most people do. He’s pretty cool.”
I nodded and took my first bite of heaven. I don’t know if it was because I was in a new environment, or that for the first time, I could eat without being worried what Clarise would say about how I chewed my food, or the amount I’d taken, or the mess on the counter. I took another bite. It was probably the latter.
Bryant dug through a different cupboard and brought out some barbeque-flavored chips, then went searching for plates. “Want to sit on the little table in here?” He walked over to the kitchen nook.
“Sure.” I grabbed a couple of glasses, filled them up with water, and then headed over to him.
As we ate, I had to ask the one question that’d been plaguing me since I got there. “Is it hard, having so many reminders of your mom everywhere?” I’d never had to face that, since I moved as soon as she’d died. But I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be constantly reminded of her.
Bryant shrugged. “I don’t know. At first, maybe. Now it’s sort of good. I like to think that a part of her will always be here. And even years down the road, we can still enjoy what she left behind.”
I sat the rest of my sandwich down as my heartache settled for a bit.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing, really. Just got sad for a second.”
“That’s the hardest part about losing someone—those waves of sadness hit, and you have no idea what triggered them or how long they’ll last. Makes it awkward sometimes because one second, you’re having a blast, and the next, you’re close to tears.”
I was definitely close to the tears part. “Yeah. I can’t even figure out why.”
“Well, we were talking about having so many memories of my mom around—are you sad that your family sold everything, and you don’t have the connection we do?”
“I wish someone had thought about me. I wish they had seen a picture or jewelry box or dish of my mom’s and thought, ‘Indy would love this one day.’” I sighed and plucked at a chip on my plate. “They thought I was too young. They didn’t even give me a voice. No one asked me if I’d like something. I didn’t even know I was moving until I was.”
“Hey.” He leaned over and squeezed my hand. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise. We’ll piece together your mom’s favorite things and start a Cindy collection.”
My eyes met his. “Why are you so sweet?” He wasn’t like anyone else I knew. “Honestly, I swear you’re not a teenage guy. You’re not.”
“Nah. You figured me out. I’m a three-thousand-year-old alien come to earth disguised as a junior.”
I grinned.
“Hey, at least you smiled.” Bryant ate a few chips and then answered thoughtfully, “You know, I’m not sure. I mean, we’ve talked about this before, and I really think it has to do with losing my mom. Seeing the world in a series of important moments. Life isn’t somethi
ng to ignore and zoom past—it’s a chance to take each moment you can with those around you.”
He stood up and took his plate from the table, returning with a bag of cookies. “I figured out a long time ago that I was supposed to learn something new from each person I met. That their input in my life—whether bad or good—taught me how to go forward. I can’t risk missing one of those teaching moments—like ignoring how you were being treated.” His eyes grew a bit misty as he continued. “Last night, when you didn’t text back, I knew it was something. And it scared me. Maybe other people can leave stuff like that alone without acting on their gut instincts, but not me. I knew you’d think I was crazy, but I didn’t care.”
He ran his hands through his hair and totally messed it up. “I love you, Indy.” Shaking his head, he spoke before I could. “I know it’s weird for me to say this now—I know it’s considered stupid or whatever—but I can’t take not knowing if you’re safe. And the stupidest thing I did—since I’m confessing anyway—was trying to put some distance between us. Seriously, what is wrong with me, telling you to get another boyfriend?”
“Stop,” I said quietly. “I admit, I was a little peeved that you said you wanted me to give Maxton a chance. But I saw beyond myself to the people who’d already been helping me and I didn’t even realize it.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He’s really awesome.”
Bryant rubbed his head again and closed his eyes. “And you guys make a really good couple.”
“We probably do.” I tugged on his arm. “But I’m not going to stay with him, dork.”
CHAPTER TWENTY:
“Wait. What? Why not?” Bryant’s face was too funny.
Because I love you too. Except I was too scared to say it, so I said, “Because I can’t lie to him. And it’ll get seriously awkward once he knows I’m staying here with you at your huge palace.”
“Oh.”
“Though I did promise to go to one of his wrestling matches. I feel like such an awful friend—all these years, he’s been wrestling, and I’ve never gone once.”
“So when is his next one?”
“Saturday.”
“And you want to go?”
I messed with some crumbs on my plate. “Yeah. Is that bad of me? To go even though we’re breaking up?”
“Well, that depends. When are you planning to break up with him?”
“Probably soon.”
“So, before the match?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Okay, I guess that’s better than breaking up with him at the match.” He chuckled and then looked a little sad. “Actually, getting dumped is never fun, no matter when it happens.”
“So, are you saying I shouldn’t break up with him?”
“No. I’m saying it isn’t going to be easy. Period.”
I sighed. “Here’s the thing. If I prolong it like you wanted me to and give him an actual chance, wouldn’t it be a worse breakup down the road than getting it over with early?”
“Not necessarily. To some guys, it would seem like you tried to give them a chance, that you were willing to make it work. And if you dump them after a couple of days, it’ll be like you didn’t think they were worth it.”
“Great. Thanks. Now you’re making me feel really bad.”
“You’re right. You’re right. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Just then, Dr. Bailey walked back into the kitchen. “Okay. The case worker is willing to meet with you in about forty minutes.” He glanced at me. “Does that sound good? We’ll have to leave in almost fifteen minutes.”
I looked over at Bryant. “Yes. I guess so.”
Jeff put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Great. Took all morning, but I think we’ve finally gotten it sorted it.”
“Will my aunt and uncle be there too?”
“No. This is your chance to speak up and share whatever you’d like without worrying about what they’d think.”
“And then after I do?”
“Usually, they’d remove you from the home immediately, but that’s already happened. We’ll probably have to go to a hearing on your behalf—you won’t need to be there—where I share my side and your case worker will share her side and together, we’ll go against your aunt and uncle’s attorney to gain full custody of you.”
“What if you don’t win?”
“Oh, I’ll win. Don’t worry about that.”
“Yes, but . . .? Just in case you don’t get custody, does that mean they will? Do I go back to live with Clarise?”
“No. Never again. With your testimony and what you’ve been through, you’d go to live with a foster family if it didn’t work out with me.”
I didn’t want to get my hopes up. “But I’ve never been hit—I know you say it’s emotional abuse, but I think it’d need to be more serious than that.”
“Indy.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “You have to remember that neglect is also considered abuse. After speaking with you today, they’ll be able to come up with several examples of mistreatment.”
“Will something happen to my aunt and uncle?”
He shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea what the judge will decide. I know that in extreme cases, people have gone to jail, but that’s not any of our concern. What we need to do is make sure you start counseling right away and get you healthy and healing.”
He looked over at Bryant. “I know you’ve got feelings for Indy, but I’m going to ask you to cool it for right now. She’s as confused as she’ll ever be and we need to treat her as friends, as family, until she can balance and heal properly. Then, if you guys decide you’d like to do a few things together, you will go very slowly and treat her with the utmost respect. Do you understand?”
Bryant looked down, and I swore I could see him blushing. “Dang it.” He grinned when he glanced back up. “You’re killing me, Dad.”
“You’ll live, I’m sure.” Jeff then looked over at me. “You’re going to have a lot of emotions flood through you in the next couple of months. That’s normal—it’s okay. Whenever you’d like to talk, please come to me. We’ll get this all worked out.”
Then he pulled me up out of the chair, gave me an enormous hug, and said, “Welcome to the family.”
It felt good to be hugged, but I thought I’d least try to make Dr. Bailey see reason as I stepped back. “But what if I like Bryant and think I’m falling in love with him already?”
“You too, eh?” Jeff grinned and patted my back, all fatherly. “Well, here’s the deal. How about we see how well this works, and then in a couple of months, we go from there?” He looked at us both. “Come on, guys. You’ve got to work with me on this one.”
“Okay, I promise to be good and view Indy as a friend for now.”
Dr. Bailey looked at me. Did he expect me to speak too? “Um, I promise not to kiss him.”
Bryant burst out laughing. And his dad and I had to join in.
“What?” I asked over a few chuckles. “What else am I supposed to say?”
“Nothing.” Jeff looked at me with a new light in his eye. “Nothing at all. In fact, I think you may be exactly what this family has needed for a very long time.”
I don’t know what came over me, or why that particular statement affected me, but right then, I burst into tears. Happy, relief-filled tears. Dr. Bailey and Bryant hugged me, and I think they shed a few tears with me.
Then Jeff said, “It’s nice to finally belong, isn’t it?”
I had no words. I just nodded.
He continued, “You will always be welcome here. You’re family now—whether you stay here or not. You are always welcome back. You will be loved.”
“Thank you.” It was all I could say. “Thank you.”
***
Much later that night, after I’d spoken with Child Protective Services and Bryant and his sisters and I were taking a much-needed movie break, I got a text from Maxton.
Hey, I noticed you weren’t at school toda
y. Is everything all right?
I didn’t even know how to answer him, or where to begin. I stared at the phone for a good five minutes before I answered back.
Yes, everything is good now. I moved out. I’d love to tell you about it. Too long for text. When can we talk?
He responded quickly. I can’t tonight, but I should be able to tomorrow. Will you be at lunch?
I didn’t care how private our lunch table was—there was no way I’d be telling him at school. I’d prefer somewhere more private. Could you come to my new house after school?
Are you going to break up with me? Is this why you keep wanting to talk?
Bryant had been pretending he didn’t notice that I’d been texting someone, but I nudged him with my arm and showed him the phone. “What do I do?” I whispered.
I mean, I wasn’t going to break up with Maxton right then. I really wanted to let him know what had happened to me—I mean, it was kind of epic. However, I didn’t want to lie either, since I had every intention of breaking up with him later. Gah. So, was that why he wasn’t talking to me? He was afraid of getting dumped? Dang it! I’d needed him the night before.
“Well, that bites,” Bryant answered quietly. Neither of us wanted to disturb the others watching the movie.
“Do I tell him yes?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But if you leave it at just yes, he’ll never hear the rest, and then really be left out of everything. He deserves to know. Hang on.” Bryant pulled out his phone and said, “Give me his number. I’ll text him. Maybe that will help out a little.”
“What? Are you kidding me? No. You’re not texting him. I can do it.”
“Indy, stop being stubborn and give me the number.”
“What are you going to say?”
“You’ve gotta learn to trust me.”
“Shh!” his littlest sister hissed. “You guys are being loud.”
I couldn’t remember if she was eleven or twelve, but her panda and red-striped jammies were adorable on her. I refused to fight in the midst of such cuteness. I handed him the phone and watched as he punched in the number.
