Until the Stars Fall From the Sky

by Mary Crawford

  “Now, there’s no need to go casting aspersions on my higher than average fashion I.Q., my hair expertise and my dancing abilities, there was just an unusually high level of estrogen in my household and I picked all this stuff up through osmosis. You have to admit my knowledge base has been downright handy,” I tease. Though, the thought occurs to me that we are going to be bringing daughters into our household and we haven’t even officially talked about what the structure of that looks like yet. However, I don’t want to stress Kiera out any more than I need to right now. She has more immediate concerns.

  As Kiera turns to leave the room, my cell phone rings. I stutter slightly as I answer it, “H-hello, t-this is Jeff.”

  “Hello Jeff. This is William. You’re not driving are you? I have a thing about that, especially since Grace was paralyzed in an accident with some fool that was talking on his cell phone.”

  “No, sir. I never do that. We haven’t taken off yet. We’re gathering paperwork.” I answer as steadily as I can.

  “Paper work?” he demands, shock evident in his voice, “Are you planning to marry her today, son? Is she pregnant?”

  “No, I wish it was that simple, William,” I answer candidly. “Make no mistake; I would marry her today in a heartbeat if it’s what she wants.”

  “I think she’s right about that one. Denny would be fit-to-be tied if he missed his only child’s wedding,” he responds with a chuckle. “Now, let me stop wasting your time and tell you why I really called. A friend of mine, Lawrence Fletcher, is heading up a statewide Juvenile Justice initiative for the new attorney general. Unfortunately, he lost two members of his team to an academic fraud scandal. The position isn’t going to make you rich by any stretch of the imagination as it only pays $12 an hour. It’s taskforce work. Most of it’s going to be some serious grunt work, but there may be some media appearances and testifying in front of the legislature. Does it sound like something you’d be interested in?”

  I shake my head to clear it. Was this man really offering a shot at a dream job in a field I’m passionate about as casually as if he’d asked me if I’d like a side of fries with my burger? “Yes, sir. I’m more than interested. I’d say that job description was written with me in mind. How do I apply?” I ask, trying not to sound like a teenage girl at a rock concert.

  Justice Gardner breaks out into a full guffaw as he replies, “Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough about it. Larry is expecting you to show up next Monday barring any complications. I’ve already cleared it with Carter. He likes you a lot and he’s sorry to lose you. Nevertheless, he thinks it’s a feather in his cap that I handpicked you for this assignment.”

  For a moment, I am completely incapable of forming any words because I am so shocked. ”Thank you so much. I don’t even know where to begin to thank y — “, I stammer as he brusquely interrupts me.

  “Nonsense, son. Just pay it forward someday. By the way, I found out some information that might be helpful to you, when I was checking your references. You have been chosen by the Oregon State Bar to receive a $500.00 scholarship. It’s in the minutes of the Board of Governor’s Meeting, so it’s public record even though there hasn’t been a ceremony.

  “Wow, you’re kidding!” I exclaim, suddenly feeling a bit faint.

  “No, I’m not kidding,” he reassures me, “Good job, son. “I’ll text you Judge Fletcher’s information. I’m sure you have better things to do today than to chat all day with me. Good luck, Jeff.” The phone goes dead in my ear.

  I put the phone in my pocket and begin sorting the papers in the file. As I collate Kiera’s tax return, I notice a form that looks out of place. Sure enough, it’s the missing copy of the passport. I quickly straighten the rest of the file and tuck it under my arm. I collect Kiera and load her into my truck. I look at my watch. Not bad — out of the house in 37 minutes, even dressed in yuppie wear. Now, the hard part begins.

  I put the truck in drive and it backfires so loudly that Kiera jumps. “Sorry ‘bout that,” I mumble. “I have some news,” I announce at the exact same time as Kiera says it. I tilt my head in her direction and remark, “Ladies first.”

  “My dad just got back from a run to Arizona,” she declares. ”He is going to meet us at the hearing.”

  I feel like someone just kicked me in the gut. I’m not ready to meet her dad. I haven’t practiced any speeches or laid out the case as to why he should trust me with his precious daughter. I just learned the man’s first name today. I take a deep breath and count to ten; I slowly exhale as I reply, “Pip, that’s not the kind of news you just spring on a guy like me. I’m likely to stroke out.”

  “PC, relax. It’s just my dad. He’s going to love you,” Kiera insists, grabbing my hand and interlacing her fingers.

  “How can you possibly know that?” I demand, panic edging my voice. “Pip, I don’t even know what to say to him. I haven’t rehearsed anything.”

  “PC,” Kiera squeezes my hand for reassurance as she laughs lightly, her laughter sounding like wind chimes, “This is my dad we’re talking about. He is going to be impressed that you speak in full sentences and don’t pick your nose. However, what’s really going to win the day is that you are here standing by my side today and that you’re willing to have your life scrutinized right along with mine for those two girls.”

  “About that — ” I start to explain.

  Comically, Kiera raises her hands to her ears and sticks her fingers in them like a five year old. “Stop!” she pleads. “I can’t handle one more piece of bad news.”

  “Babe, I understand, I really do. You can safely unplug your ears now, because I only have good news and even more good news,” I state seriously, but I just can’t keep the twinkle out of my eyes.

  “You’re sure?” she asks, the doubt clear in her voice.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I confirm with a nod, “I wouldn’t mess with your head on a day like today. In the past hour, my employment picture has dramatically improved thanks to your friend William. I don’t know my hours or anything, but I know it has to be less than 20 under the American Bar Association guidelines. I’ll be making $12.00 an hour working as a Paralegal Research Assistant on a Juvenile Justice Task Force with the Attorney General’s office. It’s in exactly the field where I want to work. Although, I’m not sure how he knew that about me, it’s kind of spooky.”

  “You don’t remember?” Kiera asks, a sly grin on her face, “You told him,” a laugh escapes despite her best effort to contain it.

  “No way!” I exclaim, “When did I do that? I would have been too nervous. I am so shy and tongue-tied that I can barely string two words together whenever I talk to him.”

  “Remember the icebreaker we played at the table about what we wanted to be when we grew up?” Kiera reminds me, “Well, you were so focused on determining whether I was telling the truth about wanting to be a professional belly dancer that you forgot your shyness and reserve and actually opened up to William. You two had quite a discussion about children’s rights over rubberized banquet chicken.”

  Vague clips of the conversation play in my head. Horror seeps through my veins as I realize that I had a job interview and I wasn’t even aware of it. “Oh my God, Kiera, what if I had blown him off, like Kyle Best — ” I voice my fears aloud.

  “But you didn’t,” Kiera argues. ”You were charming and respectful. You showed your legal knowledge and demonstrated that you have a strong moral compass without seeming pious or demeaning. You impressed William enough that he gave you his home number, which is something he almost never does. Not only that, you had the guts to follow through and make that call. You are extraordinary. William clearly recognized that and rewarded it. I’m so proud of you, Jeff. What’s the other news?”

  “Remember that I told you that I had some other scholarship applications out?” I ask.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kiera nod, so I continue. “William told me that I have been awarded a $500.00 scholarship from the Oregon State Bar
.”

  “Yes!” Kiera yells so loud that I almost over-correct the truck and steer it into the median. “I told you that you would get it. You rock! This means you won’t have to worry about covering school this year, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got most of that covered now. I can use the money from my new job to get a new vehicle to cart you and the kids around. I’ll probably pick up some tutoring jobs to help pay the bills and I’ll sell Bar Prep Courses to cover the cost of my exam,” I respond.

  “What about your grandpa’s truck?” asks Kiera softly, tears springing to her eyes.

  “It’s lived a long and useful life. I have bigger priorities to consider now. I have to protect my girls and this rust bucket isn’t doing the job. My grandpa would expect me to step up to the plate even if it costs me his pride and joy. I’ll use the trade-in value to help with the cost of the newer one,” I explain, shrugging. Kiera’s safety isn’t even a close call for me. I was considering this move even before the news about the girls.

  Tears spill on to Kiera’s cheeks as she says, “Jeffery Charles Whitaker, you are an amazing man. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Pip. You are like my fantasy come to life, only better. Speaking of fantasies, we’ve got some real life issues to settle such as where I’m going to live if we’re forming a family.” I reply, kissing the back of her hand.

  Kiera’s eyes flash with alarm as she cautions, “Jeff, you know this arrangement with the girls is only temporary. They aren’t really ours?”

  “Maybe not,” I reply carefully, “but my relationship with you is until. As far as I’m concerned, there is no end of us — ever. I’m a firm believer in the concept of things happening for a reason and if we’re only meant to be in those girl’s lives for a brief window of time, let’s make it the most solid, happy few weeks or months their little princess hearts could dream of.”

  Kiera nods and sighs as she acquiesces, “You’re right. I need to look at it that way. Part of me is afraid of getting too attached, but that’s just not fair to the girls. I need to give it my all regardless of the consequences.”

  “I’ll let Ty know he doesn’t have to move.” I reason. “He’ll be relieved because his place was nicer than mine. I’ll try to find a sub-letter for my place. I know some folks with some roommate conflicts already, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  “You can put your extra furniture in my basement, there’s plenty of room. I figure we can make the office into Mindy’s room and turn that little bonus room into a nursery for Becca,” she strategizes.

  “I bet my mom still has all of Donda’s princess furniture — you know the white wicker kind with a canopy bed. Donda tried to get my mom to sell it in a garage sale a while back and my mom told her that she didn’t care if she made money on it, she was just waiting for the ‘rightful owner’. It seems to me, it anyone was meant to use that stuff, it’s Mindy,” I add, getting excited at the prospect of seeing the joy on Mindy’s face.

  “That would be wonderful.” Kiera declares, “All I have for her is a basic mattress set.”

  “Pip, you have no idea what forces you will have unleashed once you’ve given Gwendolyn Whitaker-Buckhold a decorating task. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just move out of her way and watch the magic unfold,” I advise, chuckling softly.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get this all done. I don’t even have a crib yet. Somehow, I envisioned that I would have several months to prepare for this. What am I going to do?” Kiera says with a resigned sigh as she buries her head in her hands.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I caution, “We don’t even have a firm timeframe yet. So, let’s wait until we know more before we establish a game plan. I can wrangle up a decent sized work party for Friday night if we need it, okay? There isn’t anything we can’t tackle together. Don’t panic.”

  Kiera’s phone chimes and she glances at it as she states nervously, “That was Joan. She wants us to go directly to the courthouse, because there is no need to talk to Mindy before we have more definitive answers. This is really happening in ten minutes,” Kiera fidgets and rolls her shoulders.

  I squeeze her hand as I proclaim, “Pip, you are exactly what those girls need. The judge would be crazy not to see that.”

  As we pull up into the parking spot, there is a hulking guy wearing a Dale Earnhardt, Jr. hat. There is no doubt that he is Kiera’s dad. If his identical smile and freckles didn’t instantly confirm the connection between them, his bright red hair would. He watches with a look of speculation as I carefully situate Kiera’s chair and gently place her in it, tucking her suit around her so that it doesn’t get caught in her spokes. I gather her files and my briefcase. I extend my other hand towards her dad, “Jeff Whitaker, it’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

  “Dennis Ashley, but my friends call me Denny. Any man that treats my daughter with that much care has earned that designation,” he announces as he turns to Kiera, “What took you guys so long? You’re on the schedule in a half an hour. Does that give you enough time to meet with your lawyers?”

  Kiera rolls her eyes as she teases, “Well Dad, not everyone can drive like a trucker. We got here as fast as we could. We were in bed when we got the call.”

  The look on Denny’s face would have been comical had it not been on the face of my future father-in-law. “I’m sure I must have heard that wrong — ”

  “No, Daddy, you did not hear that wrong. I’m 27 years old for Pete’s sake. However, in this case, nothing happened,” she states boldly. She flushes a deep shade of red as she remembers all the things that almost happened — that would have happened — if it weren’t for a fateful phone call. She quickly amends her statement. “Oh Daddy, a whole bunch of stuff happened and it’s all good. But, we can’t even start to explain all of it right now, okay?”

  “If the smile on your face and the light in your eyes is anything to go by, I can pretty much guess the nature of your news.” Denny counsels his daughter, “There is a time and place for all of that and this is not it. We’ll celebrate later, Pipsqueak. For now, you need to get your game face on.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Kiera agrees, reaching up to hug her dad.

  As Denny steps back, I lean down to softly kiss her temple and whisper, “Come on, Pip, let’s go slay some dragons for our princesses.” I move behind her chair to push her chair. Denny catches my gaze and gives me a tight nod of approval. I feel like I’ve been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. One challenge down, countless others to go.

  After meeting with the state’s attorney and signing a flurry of releases, Kiera and I are brought back into the courtroom to wait. It is awkward because there’s no place for Kiera to park her chair where it’s not intruding into unwanted spaces and I was not able to sit beside her. I try not to let my agitation show — but really? How hard would it be to remove a portion of the fixed seating so that she can pull her chair in comfortably? Churches and movie theaters do it all of the time.

  Kiera and her dad were talking about her van when I got my head back into the conversation. “…and Jeff says he thinks it’s my alternator. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to even give it a second thought,” Kiera explains.

  “Well, I can look at it, but these arthritic hands don’t get into tight spaces quite so well anymore, so it might take me awhile to fix it. You might be better off taking it to a shop,” Denny says, regarding his swollen fingers with a grimace.

  “Sir, my grandfather taught me about engines when I was younger; I don’t know everything there is to know, but I follow directions well. I’d be honored to help,” I offer, looking back and forth between them to gauge the reaction.

  “We might as well get you started working on it,” he replies. “Kiera’s baby is a temperamental thing. The ramp, air conditioning or other whatnot are always breaking on that thing. I swear one guy she went out with couldn’t even find his way to the gas tank. He would have never sur
vived Kiera’s life. What’s your schedule look like tomorrow?”

  “I have to be at the law school until 3:00. I want to stop by my parents shed and pick up the sprayer because Pip mentioned that she wants to redo the rooms. I should be able to be there around 4:00,” I answer.

  “Great. If you’ll bring the beer, I’ll throw some steaks on the grill for supper,” he offers with a grin and a slap on my shoulder.

  I hate to break up my newfound camaraderie, but integrity is more important to me at this point, so I reply as diplomatically as I can under the circumstances, “Sir, I’d be happy to bring you whichever brand you prefer, but I don’t really drink.”

  “Really?” he asks, drilling me with his amber stare, “You got issues with that, son?”

  “No, sir. But, I have family members that do, so I’m being cautious,” I respond, swallowing hard. I don’t want him to reject me based on Donda’s past issues and my mom’s problems.

  “Good for you. I don’t like a man who hides from his past. Feel free to bring root beer. I like it better anyway,” he comments with a wink.

  Just as I was ready to breathe a sigh of relief, the bailiff comes in and calls the court to order. Since Kiera can’t stand, she sits poker straight with a somber expression. I can feel her anxiety level rising. I reach around the end of the wooden pew to grasp her hand. It’s ice cold.

  The attorney for the state starts by outlining the case in broad strokes, pointing out that this is the third time that there have been allegations of child abuse against family members and the second time that it resulted in hospitalization. She displays pictures of Mindy’s burn that are so graphic that I have to turn away. Large tears slide down Kiera’s face. I hear Denny muttering things that sound remarkably similar to real cuss words under his breath. She highlights the fact that Mindy and Becca’s most basic needs aren’t being met and, they have been completely abandoned by not only their own family but their prospective foster family, as well.

  Judge Thomlinson listens carefully and responds, “I’ve reviewed the application and the addendum in my chambers. I understand congratulations are in order, Miss Ashley.”