Another Way Home

by Deborah Raney

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I’ll accept.”

  “Dallas?” She was crying.

  His heart slumped to his gut. “Misty. What is it? Is everything—”

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Misty? What’s wrong?” He braced himself against the counter, preparing for bad news.

  “It’s my sister.” She dissolved in sobs again.

  He didn’t know what had happened to her sister, but he couldn’t contain the relief he felt that this wasn’t about the baby.

  “She wants Austin. Charity wants him. To raise him. And . . . I don’t know—I think maybe that would be best. Maybe . . .”

  His heart seemed to stop beating. He couldn’t get a breath. Finally he sucked in air and forced his voice to remain steady. “Misty? Why do you think that would be better? for Austin?”

  “She’s got kids. Oz would know his cousins.”

  He hadn’t heard Misty call Austin by that nickname since the shelter.

  “They’re his blood cousins,” she said. “And maybe—if I ever got out . . .”

  What line had her sister been feeding her? Oh, dear God! Give me the words! “Misty. Listen, please. Let’s . . . let’s think this through. We told you we’d bring Austin to see you. We meant that. And if you want us to, we’ll make sure he gets to spend time with his cousins. We would be more than willing to do that—happy, in fact. Danae could bring him any time. She won’t have to work and we could—”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been talkin’ everything through with Charity. She’s changed. She’s got her act together. She really does.”

  “Are you sure? You believe her, Misty? Because from what you told Danae, things weren’t so hot with her.” He couldn’t afford to make her angry. And he felt like he was cheating. Hitting below the belt. But he’d never felt so desperate. They could not lose their boy. He leaned heavily against the counter, not sure his legs would hold him.

  He tried another tack. “Austin is settling in here, Misty. Think about how hard it would be for him to have to make another adjustment. And can your sister afford another mouth to feed?” He couldn’t even let himself think about losing Austin. And how could he ever tell Danae.

  Part of him wanted to go wake her up. Maybe she would know what to say. How to handle Misty. Heaven knew he didn’t have the words.

  “I need to think about it. I can’t just throw my boy away.”

  What? Where was this coming from? If he could have gotten his hands on this Charity right now, there might’ve been another murder. “How would that be throwing him away? He’s thriving here. With us.”

  He heard noise and voices in the background. “I have to go. I’ll call again as soon as I have it figured out.”

  “Misty, wait!” But the line was dead.

  “What’s going on?” Danae stood in front of him, the hem of her nightgown floating just above the wood floors.

  He laid his phone on the counter and looked up at her. Her eyes widened in a way that told him he must look as awful as he felt. For a long moment, he toyed with the idea of lying to her. Telling her it was a wrong number. Or that he’d gotten bad news about their taxes. But he wasn’t about to shatter the trust that had grown between them since that day he’d told her everything about his adoption.

  He reached for her hand. “Let’s go sit down, babe.”

  “Dallas? What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  “It may be nothing,” he said once they were seated side by side on the sofa in the living room. “Misty’s sister might be contesting our guardianship. She wants Austin.”

  “What?” Danae shot off the couch. “That’s crazy. Well, did you tell her she doesn’t have a prayer? How did she get our number anyway?”

  “It wasn’t her I talked to. Her name’s Charity.”

  “I don’t care what her name is, she’s not getting him. Who did you talk to?” She plopped back down beside him.

  “It was Misty.”

  “Misty? Well, she surely set her sister straight.”

  He took her hand. “Misty is . . . reconsidering. I think Charity somehow convinced her that Austin should know his cousins—Charity’s kids.”

  “You can’t be serious. They can’t be serious. Misty has never had a good word to say about her sister—or any of her family. Dallas, do something! They can’t do this.” She shot up again, and started pacing, then gave a little gasp, hands at her mouth. “What about the baby?”

  He hadn’t even thought of that. Losing Austin had been his only fear. But now the knot in his gut twisted. He couldn’t remember, but he didn’t think Misty had even mentioned the baby. “I don’t think anything has changed there. She didn’t say.”

  “But . . . if it’s because she wants him to know his cousins, surely she’ll want him to know his sister or brother too.” Her voice was wooden. “We can let him visit his cousins. We can—”

  “I told her that, Danae. I told her we’d do whatever it took. I told her how well he’s doing here, and that we could give him things her sister never could.”

  “What did she say?”

  He told her everything he could remember—except the fact that Misty had hung up on him.

  He hauled himself off the couch and went to her, taking her in his arms. “Let’s go to bed. There’s nothing we can do about it tonight.”

  “Except pray.” She slumped against him.

  “And we’ll do plenty of that. But we need to get some sleep. I’ll call Carol first thing tomorrow and see what she knows about this.”

  Danae looked up at him, her expression dubious. “Carol didn’t even know Misty was pregnant.”

  “I’ll call everyone we’ve been dealing with. Every attorney, every social worker.”

  “And that guardian ad litem . . . what was her name?” Danae extricated herself from his arms and picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “Surely she will see how ridiculous this is. She’s supposed to be all about Austin’s best interest.”

  “I just don’t see how Misty could have changed her mind so drastically.”

  “Something got to her, Dallas. I don’t know what her sister could have possibly said to change her mind, but I will fight for him. If it kills me, I will fight for Austin. For what’s best for him.”

  “I know,” he said. “We will fight it.” But he had a sinking feeling in his gut. And his thoughts took him in crazy directions, plotting clandestine escapes out of the country, and delivering scathing diatribes to complete strangers laced with words he would never actually use. This wasn’t conducive to prayer. He shook his head as if he could throw off the unwanted thoughts.

  But twenty minutes later, they followed him to bed, growing more morbid and frightening with every minute that passed.

  * * *

  Morning finally came—after a miserable, sleepless night—and Danae hurried through her shower, wanting to be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notice if they needed to. She had no idea what their options even were, but as she hovered near the door to Dallas’s office just off the formal dining room, she tried to pray that God’s will would be done.

  Did God hear prayers when they were exactly the opposite of what the words expressed? She didn’t know what God’s will was, and frankly, right now she didn’t care. She wanted her will. She wanted Austin. And the baby they’d been promised.

  Dallas had started making calls around eight thirty this morning and had been on the phone constantly ever since. Between keeping Austin entertained and packing bags for all of them in case they had to go to St. Louis, she’d kept Dallas supplied with hot coffee and moral support. And—like now—she’d listened in on his end of a dozen different phone conversations. They’d decided that his masculine influence might be more persuasive, so while he did the talking, she riffled through the folders full of documents they’d acquired since Misty was taken into custody. Dallas had filled one legal pad with phone numbers and appointments, and another with hurried notes to Danae: Carol Blye’s number
? or home study folder?

  “So, do you think we’ll get to meet with the sister? with Charity?” He was talking to Carol, the social worker who’d handled Misty’s interests in jail. He caught Danae’s gaze, then rose and turned to look out the window that overlooked their street. “I see. Yes . . . yes, we can.”

  She thought she’d caught a spark of hope in his eyes, but maybe he was only pretending for her sake. She walked around his desk to stand beside him. She didn’t like not being able to see his face.

  “OK,” Dallas said, his expression showing nothing now. “Yes, we’ll be there.”

  He clicked off the phone and his cheeks puffed out with a sigh. “We’re supposed to meet Carol at the jail tomorrow. She hasn’t been able to talk to Misty, but she thinks the chances she’ll talk to us are better if we can be there in person.”

  “OK. I’ll call Mom and see if she can keep Austin.”

  He hesitated. “Carol wants us to bring Austin with us.”

  “What?” She felt the blood drain from her face. “You don’t think they’ll try to take him—” She couldn’t make herself speak the words aloud.

  “So help me, if they did . . .” He clenched his fists at his sides.

  “They can’t—legally—force us to bring him, can they?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen a court order.”

  “We could always drive back and get him—if it’s a legal thing. I’m seriously afraid if we take him with us, we’ll never see him again! Dallas?” Her voice rose an octave.

  He shook his head, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “Yes, but I think we need to tiptoe pretty softly here.”

  “I don’t care.” She crumpled over the counter, but quickly recovered, new steel in her eyes. “We need time to prepare him, Dallas. He’s not some pawn in a game.”

  “No, but he’s not our son either, Danae.”

  30

  At ten o’clock the next morning Carol Blye met them outside the entrance to the Justice Center where the jail was housed, and where Misty awaited her sentencing—and the birth of her baby.

  The sun reflected off the many windows of the building, but the social worker’s expression was anything but sunny. Dallas took Danae’s hand and she braced herself for bad news.

  “I’m sorry, Misty won’t agree to talk with you,” Carol said. She looked past them to the sidewalk. “Where’s Austin?”

  Danae held her breath.

  Dallas scuffed the toe of his shoe on the sidewalk, but he met Carol’s gaze. “We left him with Danae’s parents. We didn’t think he needed to be subjected to this conversation, and we didn’t know who would watch him or—”

  “We’ll have to come up with a better explanation than that for Misty’s sister.” Carol’s expression hardened. “Listen, I understand how hard this is for you guys, but just because you’ve been appointed Austin’s guardians doesn’t mean you can supersede the authorities where he is concerned. The last thing we want to do here is tick people off.”

  “Which authority requested that we bring him today?” There was challenge in Dallas’s tone.

  “I’m sorry. Leaving him at home was my idea,” Danae said. “We—we can go back and get him if we need to.” She felt a little guilty making it sound like a spur-of-the-moment offer when she and Dallas had premeditatedly decided on the tack they’d take.

  “That’s not the point,” Carol said. “I’ll handle the sister, but if we tell you to bring him next time, bring him.”

  They both nodded and apparently managed to look appropriately contrite, but Danae noticed Dallas didn’t make any verbal commitments. She also noticed Carol hadn’t exactly answered his question about which authority.

  “So you’re meeting with the sister today?” he asked.

  Carol looked at her watch. “I’m supposed to meet with both of them in thirty minutes. Along with Dorothy Jessup—Austin’s guardian ad litem. In fact”—she fished in her briefcase and came out with her phone—“I need to call Dorothy and let her know.”

  Carol set her briefcase against a light pole and strolled to the end of the walkway. They could just barely make out her end of the conversation, but Danae got the impression she wasn’t exactly being forthright about what had happened.

  Carol came back and resumed her place on the bench. “Well, we dodged a bullet. Let’s sit down over here.” She indicated a long bench in the sunshine.

  Carol took one end while Danae and Dallas squeezed into the other corner.

  The metal bench was cold, but the sun and Dallas’s arm around her shoulders quickly warmed her. “So what happened? Did we do something to make Misty mad? I don’t understand how she could change her mind so drastically almost overnight.”

  “I think she’s somewhat in panic mode.”

  “So, what do we do now?” Dallas leaned away from Danae and unzipped his jacket before pulling her close again.

  The social worker let out a sigh. “I don’t agree with the choice of the sister to raise these kids and I—”

  “Kids? Has she said for sure she wants the baby, too?” Danae asked, feeling panic rise in her throat.

  “Charity hasn’t been clear on that, but I don’t think Misty would let Austin go to her if she thought it would separate the two kids.” Carol frowned. “I think we have to assume the sister wants them both.”

  Danae slumped against Dallas, feeling utterly empty inside.

  “Let’s not despair yet.” Carol leaned forward on the bench and held up a hand. “I think Misty is feeling a little desperate as the baby’s birth draws near. Naturally, the birth is going to be very hard for her—it symbolizes the end to this . . . reprieve she’s had. And losing another child. Once that baby is gone, she’ll be sentenced, and she’ll likely be sent to the penitentiary. I’m guessing that thinking of Austin somewhere familiar is comforting to her.”

  “But she told me point-blank she didn’t want anyone in her family to have him! She called them ‘lowlife perverts’ at one point.”

  “Can you prove that, Danae? to a judge? Did anyone else hear that conversation?”

  “It was at the shelter—where I met Misty.” Danae closed her eyes, trying to remember the exact conversation. “I don’t think anyone else was there. Or at least not where they would have heard her say it.”

  Carol shrugged. “It would be your word against hers. But if there’s any truth to that label—lowlife pervert—it should come out in the home study.”

  “You mean she’ll have to go through the same home study and everything we did?”

  “Yes. And as you know, that can be a long process.”

  Despite everything, a frisson of hope went through her. At least that might buy them some time. “And what happens in the meantime? Until the sister gets cleared?”

  “Could we keep Austin—and the baby—during that time?” The hope in Dallas’s voice broke Danae’s heart. Because she had an awful feeling what Carol’s answer would be.

  “You could possibly retain guardianship of Austin in the interim. That will certainly be my recommendation. And Dorothy will likely feel the same. I’ve worked with her before and she’s very wise. And trustworthy. But a lot will depend on Misty.”

  “And she wouldn’t even speak to us this morning.” Danae closed her eyes. “Did we do something to make her mad?” she asked again. Carol hadn’t answered that question to her satisfaction yet.

  “No. Definitely not. This isn’t about you two. It’s about Misty coming to terms with losing her kids. She needs somebody to aim her anger at. And unfortunately, her sister has fueled the fire and made her question her decision.”

  “So what’s next?” Dallas scooted from behind Danae and rose.

  “We wait,” Carol said. “I’ll let you know what happens when I meet with the sister and if we need to reschedule the meeting with Dorothy. But”—she looked at each of them in turn—“You need to be prepared to bring Austin back. With all his things. I can’t cover for you next time.”

 
The sun had risen above the awning over the bench, putting them in the shadows. Danae shivered and rose to stand beside Dallas. He put an arm around her, drawing her close.

  Carol gathered her briefcase and stood. “I’m sorry this has gone the way it has. Again, I’m not convinced the sister is the best place for Austin, but unfortunately, Misty’s desire for her kids will carry a lot of weight with any judge—as it should,” she added quickly.

  “What do you think will happen?” Dallas asked.

  The social worker shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly predict. I think our best angle right now is the fact that Misty will likely want the two children to be placed together, and I’m not sure the sister has the means to take in both of them. She wouldn’t have been so ambiguous otherwise. She works long hours and already gets government help with daycare for her own two children. We’ll push hard on those issues.”

  Again, a glimmer of hope. And yet, if Austin had to be wrenched from them, Danae almost felt like the baby should go wherever Austin went. His brother or sister would be a comfort to him, and a link to Misty.

  She’d been so desperate for what she and Dallas were losing, but now her heart broke for Austin. She remembered how pathetic he’d been that first night they came to the shelter. Frightened and pale and bleeding—and he’d at least had his mother then. If they forced him to go with Misty’s sister, he would be completely alone, away from everything familiar.

  Carol checked her watch. “I need to go sign in.” She shook each of their hands. “Don’t lose hope yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. And stay by your phone in case things change.”

  Was that code for in case you have to turn Austin over?

  How could they ever bear that? Her legs almost wouldn’t hold her and she leaned heavily on Dallas, trying to draw strength from him. Strength he didn’t look like he possessed in this moment.

  * * *

  “Where did you guys go?” Austin’s nose wrinkled in that funny way that had become as familiar to Dallas as his own breath.

  “We were in St. Louis, buddy. Now hold still so I can zip your jacket.” He gave Danae’s mother a smile that must not quite