by Eva Charles
Emmie didn’t move. She was pale and her eyes were glazed.
“We should go. Don’t bother packing. Just get dressed.” I scrolled through her phone. “No one tried to call. It’s a bunch of crap.” She still hadn’t moved, and didn’t acknowledge she’d even heard a word I said. “Emmie,” I said gently, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“They found out. They know I’m crazy. They’re going to take him away.”
The phone rang. “It’s a private number. Hello,” I said, into the phone.
“I’ll get her. Just a minute, please.” I muted the call.
“Emmie, it’s DCF. You need to pull yourself together and take this call. Please, sweetheart. I’ll be right here with you.”
She nodded, and I put the phone on speaker.
“Ms. Landon?”
“Yes,” she said in a small shaky voice.
“This is Elise Janis from the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families. We’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday, but we were apparently calling the wrong number.
“A report of neglect and abandonment came in yesterday afternoon. Your son, Teddy, is with us, but we need you to come down to the agency right away. The allegations against you are quite serious.”
“Is Teddy…is Teddy okay?” The pain in her voice was palpable.
“He seems fine, but I haven’t had much time to speak with him yet. Did you leave Teddy in the care of Alexa Harrington?”
“Yes,” Emmie squeaked. “I’m sorry. I won’t leave him again.”
Fuck. “Ms. Janis, this is Mark Harrington. Ms. Landon left her son in the care of my brother and his wife. Two very responsible and capable adults, who Teddy knows well, and who are very fond of him.”
“That sounds like it might be the case, but there are few other things. Ms. Landon, how soon can you be here?”
“We’re in New York. We’re leaving now,” I responded when Emmie didn’t.
“Is he okay? Please don’t frighten him. I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” she cried.
“He’s safe right now. Mrs. Harrington hasn’t left his side, and her husband is bringing someone for him to play with until you arrive.”
“Please tell him Mommy will be there soon, and I love him.”
“Does Ms. Landon need a lawyer?”
“It’s not my decision to make, Mr. Harrington. I can’t advise you in that regard. But given the number of people in the waiting room, I’d say she’s already well-represented.”
“We’ll be there as soon as possible.” I ended the call, and tossed the phone on the bed. “We need to go, Emmie.”
“No. You stay. You have work. I’ll get a bus or take an Uber.”
“Like hell.”
She was on the floor, with her legs tucked under her. “They’re going to take him away from me. I’m never going to see him again.”
“Emmie, someone’s screwing with you. They’re not taking him away. I promise.”
“But you don’t know.”
“What don’t I know, Sunshine?”
“I was in a psychiatric hospital for months.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“They know I’m crazy. Just like with Evan and David. It’s the same. This is exactly what happened last time.”
“Emmie, I’m calling downstairs for the car, and we’re going back to Boston. You’re going to tell me all about this on the way home, but we’ve got to go now, baby. Can you get dressed, or do you need me to help you?”
“I can do it,” she said. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Of course not.” But if anyone saw her like this…and psychiatric hospital…what the fuck?
I shoved everything I could find in the suitcases, and threw on some clothes. By the time we got downstairs, the valet had brought the car around.
I helped Emmie into the car. She was a mess. Not hysterical. I could have dealt with a flood of tears. She was like a zombie. Her eyes were vacant, as though she were somewhere else.
“Emmie, I’m going to hold your hand. And I need you to tell me about the hospital. Take your time, and tell me everything.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. They already took him. It’s not important anymore.”
“Nothing has ever been this important. I need you to talk to me.”
She curled up into a fetal position on the seat. I was pretty scared at this point, and wasn’t sure what to do. She was slipping away.
“I can’t do it. I can’t do it, Mark,” she whimpered.
“What can’t you do, sweetheart?”
“I can’t smile and pretend it’s going to be okay. It’s never going to be okay. I don’t want to live anymore, if they take him. I can’t do it again. It’s too hard. I give up.”
I pulled into the next rest stop, over to the most secluded area I could find. I got out of the car and went over to her side, traded places and pulled her onto my lap. She was like a rag doll, limp and lifeless.
“Nobody is taking Teddy away from you. Nobody. But I want you to tell me about the hospital.”
“After they took me away from the babies, I went to a psychiatric hospital.”
I pulled her against me.
“We should go,” she whispered.
“Not yet. We’re going to take fifteen minutes, and I’m going to hold you, while you tell me about what happened with the hospital.”
“I’m sure people know, because I grew up in the system. But I never told anyone, except Sal. Not even Tim.
“Let’s drive. I can’t talk while you’re so close. I need you to go back to the driver’s seat.”
“Not going to happen. You’re going to sit right here, in my arms, where it’s safe. Where I can rub your back when it gets too hard for you, or for me. You’re not sitting alone.”
“Mark…”
“I know. I want too much. Now tell me.” She was shivering, and I stroked her back, her hair, and her arms, everywhere I could reach, trying to warm her.
“After they found us, we spent a few days in an emergency foster home. And then we went to live with a couple. They were looking to adopt. But they only wanted the boys—they were young and so cute. The woman told her friends that they didn’t really want a nine-year-old, but we were sold as a package deal.”
I started rocking in the seat. For her. For me. I don’t know.
“I was always listening. Always assessing safety. I was hypervigilant. I’m still hypervigilant. It doesn’t go away, Mark. It never goes away.”
She took a pained, ragged breath, almost like a sob.
“The woman was too inexperienced, and probably too young to know how to manage the situation. It was a lot. The boys came to me for everything, and I insisted on keeping them on their schedule. The schedule was how I’d always coped. How I’d taken care of us. I hoarded food, and after the ant infestation…”
She was full-out shaking now, and her speech was disaffected. I almost called an ambulance. But I couldn’t do it to her. Not yet.
“One day, the social worker came to school to get me. All my things were in her car. She promised I could say good-bye to the boys. That I could see them again. Just not that day. Every time I saw her, she promised. But weeks went by and it never worked out.”
Apart from when my parents died, I’m not sure there was another time in my life when my heart ached this much. “What happened after that, sweetheart?”
She didn’t say anything for long minutes.
“Emmie,” I prodded.
“I borrowed a bus pass from my foster sister, and she showed me how to take the bus to where the boys were. I knew exactly where they lived, because I had memorized the address when we got there, in case I got lost, or so I could call the ambulance in an emergency. Each time we moved, my mother always made me memorize the address.
“When I got to the house, I rang the doorbell. The foster mother answered the door, and told me I needed to wait outside. ‘Just sit right there on the steps while I get them
,’ she said. I never saw the boys. She called social services and I was moved again, farther away from them this time.
“The social worker said my brothers were happy and in a good home, and it would make them sad again if they saw me. She told me they had a family now, and I might ruin it for them if I kept bothering the foster mother. ‘If you love them, you won’t go back there,’ she scolded. I didn’t want them to be sad anymore.”
There were no words to describe the twisting pain and sorrow I felt for that little girl right then. I pictured her, like in the kindergarten photo—bouncy curls and big blue eyes. But there was no smile, just terror on her face.
“I couldn’t stay away. I stole some money, and a couple months later, I went back. There was a sign in front of the house. I didn’t know what it meant. I sat on the curb across the street, hiding behind a car so no one would see me and call social services again. I just wanted to see the boys to make sure they were okay. I wasn’t going to try to talk to them. I didn’t want them to be sad or to ruin it for them. But one of the neighbors came over. She told me they moved. I asked her where they were, but she didn’t know. I started screaming. Wailing at the top of my lungs.
“The police came. And strangers gathered around. I don’t remember their faces, just the hushed chatter. They took me to a psychiatric hospital, and I was admitted to the children’s ward.”
“Emmie.”
“No, Mark,” she murmured. “I was lucky… After a couple weeks, a young doctor recognized what I was going through as trauma. She took away the medicine that made me feel sick and confused, and I had play therapy, then talk therapy. And a tutor every day who taught me to read, and how to add and subtract. The doctor made sure I got a good social worker from child protective services. When I left the hospital, I continued to see her as an outpatient. She was an angel who came out of nowhere, and swooped in when I needed it.”
“Emmie, you are not crazy.”
“Please, let’s go.”
“It’s going to be okay this time, Sunshine. You’re not a little girl. You’re a smart, capable woman, and a wonderful mother, and you’re not alone. You have me. No one is taking that little boy from us.”
By the time we arrived in Boston, Teddy was back at Alexa and Cole’s. I wish I could say Luke and Will, the assistant US attorney and senator, made it happen. But apparently it was all Sophie and Alexa. The two mama bears. God bless them, or God bless you if you crossed them.
When we got to DCF, the social worker insisted on talking to Emmie alone. She didn’t buy I was her lawyer, or didn’t care. After she told me about the hospital, got it all out in the open, she seemed a little better. Cole had kept in touch with us on our way back to Boston, and we both assured her no one was taking Teddy from her. “That isn’t happening, Em. So put it out of your head. Right now,” Cole demanded.
Cole was protective, and he could be unrelenting and demanding in a way that made most people wither, and infuriated everyone else. But right now, I appreciated those qualities.
The forty-five minutes she spent inside the room with Ms. Janis were long and brutal—for me. She was better, but still skittish, and I worried she’d have another meltdown and start babbling about psychiatric hospitals, raising all sorts of red flags and making everything more complicated.
Seconds before I busted an artery, they emerged, and Ms. Janis asked whether I minded talking to her alone. “I don’t have a problem talking to you. But I don’t mind answering questions in front of Ms. Landon. You’ve already taken a statement from her. Where’s the harm?” I didn’t want Emmie to be alone in the waiting room.
“Okay.” She glanced at Emmie. “That’ll be fine. Mr. Harrington, can you tell me a little about the nature of your relationship with Ms. Landon?”
“We’re dating. It’s actually more than that. We love each other.” I squeezed Emmie’s hand.
“Do you spend the night at her house?”
“Yes.”
“Has Teddy ever walked in on you while you were having intimate relations?”
“No.”
“Do you take precautions so he doesn’t walk in on you?”
“Yes.”
“Always?”
What the fuck? “Yes.”
“Do you walk around the house without clothing?”
“No. What is this about?”
“Someone alleged that you and Ms. Landon have sexual relations in front of Teddy, and that Ms. Landon regularly leaves him in the care of whomever will take him, to be with you. I’ve already established the second part isn’t true, but I need to explore the rest. It’s a serious allegation.”
“You won’t find anyone who is more concerned about her child’s welfare than Ms. Landon. And no, we don’t have sex in front of Teddy, or in front of anyone else. We’re always careful. She insists on it.” Ms. Janis watched me like a hawk and took notes, occasionally nodding while I spoke. Emmie said nothing. Her hands were still ice-cold. “And I don’t parade around the house naked. And neither does Ms. Landon, in case you’re wondering.”
Not going to lie—this was the most humiliating and infuriating conversation I’d ever had. I wasn’t embarrassed for myself, but I felt awful for Emmie.
After a bit more probing, Ms. Janis told Emmie she was going to issue a finding of unsupported.
Before we left, Elise Janis gave us a little lecture on how a child’s experiences can impact their future. “We have to put our children first, but they eventually grow up, often sooner than we’d like, and then we’re free to pursue our own pleasures.”
I wanted to strangle her. Right there on the spot. But I redirected the anger. “Who made the false accusations?”
“We hold reporters’ names confidential. Otherwise no one would ever come forward.”
“So anyone can call in wild accusations, and you investigate parents like they’re criminals?”
“If we find the report and the reporter credible. These are children’s lives, Mr. Harrington. It’s better to ruffle a few feathers than to risk a child being hurt. The false allegations don’t happen as often as you’re suggesting.”
I knew all this and somewhere inside, I agreed with everything she said. But this was Emmie and Teddy, my people, and I didn’t want anyone, no matter how well-intentioned, screwing with them.
After we left DCF, we went to pick up Teddy from Alexa and Cole’s. Emmie opened the car door before I had it in park, she was so anxious to see Teddy. As soon as she saw him, her face relaxed. The creases and furrows smoothing. I felt her transformation in my gut. She clung to him, trembling and fighting back the tears. My stomach ached.
Teddy didn’t want to leave Owen, and the entire ordeal with DCF barely registered with him. He did say Ms. Janis interrupted their game, and she wore stinky perfume. And a different lady wanted him to play with dolls. But he told her he didn’t play with dolls because he wasn’t a girl. She didn’t have any Ninja Turtles. I’m sure all that went over real well with DCF—if they could follow it.
When we got back to Emmie’s, I ordered Chinese food, we ate, and then I cleaned up while she put Teddy to bed. Emmie barely said a word during dinner, and she pushed the food around her plate, without taking more than a few bites. Ruth came down to see Teddy, but she didn’t stay for dinner.
“He’s asleep,” Emmie said, when she came into the kitchen.
“Come here.” I reached for her, but she pulled out of my reach and leaned back against the counter, cupping her elbows.
“Thank you for everything today. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” she said.
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“It’s getting late. I’m so tired, and I’m sure you are too. You should go.”
“I thought I’d stay with you tonight. It’s been a rough day.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight.”
I didn’t like where this was heading. The weather pattern was definitely shifting. I could feel it in my bones. It’s not as though
a chilly wind blew through. It was more like a black cloud fell over the room. “Not tonight? Or never again?”
“Mark… I love you. I do.” The tears were beginning to pool. I started to get up, and she held up her hand to stop me. “But I can’t have a relationship with you. The timing’s bad, and I have too much baggage, too many things to work through. You want too much. I can’t give it to you.”
The last year flashed before my eyes, shredding my soul as the images clicked. I was exhausted. It had been a grueling day, and I had no fight left in me. “You were never going to let me decide whether he could have soda instead of juice, were you?”
She shrugged.
But I already knew the answer. I’d been getting the vibe all along. It never let up. I wasn’t going to beg or push her this time. I’d already done it so many times, and I didn’t have the energy or the appetite for it anymore. “What about Teddy?”
“What about him?” she asked.
“You can kick me out of your life, but don’t you dare kick me out of his. Men don’t walk away from their kids.”
“He’s not your kid.”
“I wanted him to be. And if he was, I’d fight you for custody with everything I had.”
She gasped.
“Oh, stop. I’d never take a child from his mother. That relationship is too important. But I’d want to be a big part of his life. What’s he going to think? That this is how men behave? When he wakes up tomorrow, I’ll be gone. Just like that. What’s it going to teach him?”
“I’ll tell him you’re busy with work.”
“No. No, you won’t tell him that, because men make time for their children no matter how busy they are at work. Tell him the truth, Emmie. Tell him you didn’t love me in the special way mommies love daddies. Tell him he can call me, anytime, and I’ll still teach him how to play lacrosse, and how to throw a curve ball. Tell him that. Because it’s the truth.”
She was sniffling, and turned her back so I wouldn’t see her cry. Because she couldn’t even give me that. She hadn’t misled me. All along, she kept telling me, in so many ways, that she would never be all in.
But I didn’t listen.
“Why don’t you go and put the ring back on, so some other fool doesn’t get too far in.” I slammed the door, and left the woman, the child, and the life I had wanted so desperately, behind.
