First and Ten

by Michel Prince

  He went back into the living room and looked at her mother sitting on the couch with his son. “Thank you for coming over.”

  “I’m just glad you were able to get her to give you my number. I’ve tried for a conservatorship, but I don’t even know where to start. All I can do is keep DeMonte from time to time.”

  “How often do you watch DeMonte?” Mr. Trundell asked.

  “My baby is a good mother when she’s on her meds.”

  “I understand you believe that, but keeping her on them is the problem.”

  “She’s not violent, sir,” the woman assured as she knitted her fingers. Candace’s mother was too old to be keeping up with a three-year-old. She had been in her early forties when she had Candace and had a heart bypass when the two of them had been together. “Her delusions are mostly about men.”

  “We’re talking about giving a woman with impulse control issues over ten grand a month to pay to raise a child,” Stanton added.

  “That’s more than enough to pay for her to have a nanny for DeMonte,” she said. “I could be there.”

  “You can’t control her and until she wants help, you won’t know if she’s living on the streets or using DeMonte’s child support money to put herself up in a hotel downtown.” Stanton put his hands together in prayer formation. “Mrs. Powell, your daughter is not well and her lawyer and I both agree we need to err on the side of caution when it comes to what is best for DeMonte.”

  “When it comes down to it,” Mr. Trundell said. “Even though we have our teams, DeMonte is our priority. I told Candace if she wasn’t on her meds I couldn’t represent her.”

  “But you’re taking her money,” Mrs. Powell pointed out. “Aren’t you? He gets my grandson and I’ll never see him again.”

  “Mama Powell, I’ve never been like that. When your daughter lived with me I asked her if I could move you closer to us. I never liked you living where you were.”

  “She…she never said.” Mrs. Powell hugged DeMonte closer to her until the young boy protested and she let go.

  “We can help get her and you help. I don’t want DeMonte to ever lose his connection with you. You’re his grandmother and I’m blessed to have you living so close. My mother won’t leave Omaha because she loves her church.”

  “Well, I can’t blame her for that. I tell you what, young man, I’m scared,” her voice trembled and she let DeMonte wander over to the bookshelf where Rome had his trophies. He turned his little head up as he sucked on his thumb. “I’ve talked with social workers and gotten nowhere because she’d always take off.”

  Rome reached his hand over to hers and covered it with his. “Mama Powell, I’m telling you now I will be there through this whole process, but we need you to sign the papers before we can call for an ambulance.”

  “I don’t know,” she rung her hands in worry. “I just need her to get the meds right. Can’t we just take her to a doctor? She took them tonight, didn’t she?”

  “I’ve seen this before,” Mr. Trundell said. “She needs at least thirty days of care where they can judge the effects of the drugs and get her balanced enough. There are better ones that can help with the sleepiness and fuzzy feeling. What she has is chemical. If we can balance those chemicals she can go back to being your daughter.”

  “I… I feel out numbered. Pressured. I don’t like that feeling, gentlemen.”

  “Mama, what if I called your pastor.”

  “Pastor Banister? You’d do that?”

  “If you were my mama, yes, ma’am, I would. This is a big decision and if God agrees with it, I know it will set your soul at ease.”

  After three hours and a dozen cups of coffee, a deal had been struck. When the ambulance arrived they had come to an agreement. Candace protested when they arrived, fighting to the point the police officers had to take care of her. Jerome stayed hidden in his bedroom with DeMonte playing music until it was done. He wanted to call Dani, but there was no way he could until he had every last bit of this settled, he promised her father that. At least with Candace under lock and key, he wouldn’t need to worry about any new pictures.

  “She’s gone,” Stanton said as he opened the door to Rome’s room. “Mrs. Powell asked if you’d be okay with DeMonte tonight.”

  “Yeah, I don’t have to go back to camp until Monday.”

  “At least you know what you can do with that third floor.”

  A mother-in-law suite would be nice, but he wasn’t sure that it would be a long term solution. He wanted to get in to William Albright’s good graces and he wasn’t sure having Mrs. Powell in his home would be that.

  “Either way, I’ll need to reach out to a nanny service.” Rome looked down at his son and led him into his own bedroom. “This is yours, little man. Everything in here is yours.”

  DeMonte’s eyes lit up as he got his second wind. Sitting with a pile of toys, he made vroom noises and he pushed a toy truck around the carpet. He looked up at Rome anxiously.

  “You’re good, DeMonte. Thirty minutes then it’s time for bed.” Rome looked over at Stanton. “I don’t know how I can thank you for this.”

  “It’s not over, but it’s a good start.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dani stared at three different pairs of shoes as she stood in her graduation robe. The stylist part of her brain said heels, at least four inches. That way she could open her robe and still be on point. The practical part of the brain said chucks all the way. Barefooted and she could bring the heels for the party afterward. Then there were the sandals with just a little heel, but it was open-toed and she needed a good pedicure to pull that look off.

  It was three days before graduation and their backyard was being mapped out by her mother at the moment with the rental place. Dani watched her from her bedroom window as her mother pointed out areas for the woman to mark on her clipboard.

  “There’s talk of a fountain, live statues and swans,” her sister’s voice broke Dani out of her trance. Tawny Albright had gone the hippie route after college. Made sense since she’d smoked enough weed to satisfy a Grateful Dead concert. She stood in a long peasant skirt with a flowered pattern and lace. The turquois cami might have a shelf bra, but her sister needed more than a shelf. She needed a structured plan. At least her long honey-blond hair was being worn down and draped over her breasts.

  “They’re leftover from your cancelled bridal shower. I’m sure she had a nonrefundable deposit.” Dani fell into her sister’s arms for a hug and could smell the mix of patchouli with just a hint of the herb. Pulling free she looked at her. “Why are you here so early?”

  “If you could believe it, I missed the old place.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  Her sister gave her a smile, then kissed Dani on her forehead before flopping back on Dani’s bed. “Well, I did and I was worried about you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “It’s been at least three days and you haven’t been on the Down and Dirty?”

  “Since when do you subscribe to the evils of technology?”

  “Hippies created Silicon Valley.” Her sister smiled broadly. “I’m more interested in my saintly sister gettin’ down and dirty with a Grizzly.”

  “It was an experience, but you know baggage can be heavy sometimes.”

  “His was too much for you?”

  “No, but I’m pretty sure Dad played nice when Mom was around. When she was gone, he spoke to him when we got back from a walk of the grounds.”

  “You walked the grounds?” her sister asked with air quotes. “And how is the guest cottage Mom never got to?”

  “In need of repair, but that’s not the point,” Dani said as heat erupted across her face.

  “My sister getting nasty in her old age.”

  “I’m not the one hitting thirty with a trail of broken engagements.”

  “I don’t need you or Mom’s biological I-need-a-grandkid-clock to point that out, thank you very much.”

  “Grandkids? Ha,” Dani l
aughed. “And I’m still trying to figure out what to do after graduation.”

  “Have you not had almost two weeks to figure that out?”

  “I have offers, but I’ve been thinking about being a life coach.”

  “What do you know about life?”

  “There’s more to life than communing with nature.”

  “And you’ve just lost me as a client.” Dani scoffed at her sister and went back to her shoe choice. “Tell me about the Speed Demon of Love.”

  “What’s to say, we dated a few times. I thought I meant more to him than I did.”

  “Was he at least good in bed?”

  “How’s your latest man in bed?”

  “Exs are allowed to be discussed,” Tawny said, then wiggled her eyebrows. “Unless he’s not an ex.”

  “He wasn’t a…” Dani stumbled to find the words. “He wasn’t an anything.”

  “That’s not what those pictures from the boat looked like.”

  “And when you were the stone cold sober designated driver and a photographer caught you mid blink so you looked high as hell, was that the truth?”

  Tawny held her index finger and thumb apart about an inch. “Smidge of difference. I didn’t have my tongue halfway down a joint like you did his mouth.”

  “Now you’re just making it sound dirty.” Dani warmed at the memory of the boat. The feel of the waves rocking them as Rome explored between her thighs.

  “I’m not the one imitating a lobster,” her sister teased. “Blush much?”

  “Fine, the sex was amazing, mind blowing, toe curling, make a girl break childhood mementos lost in an orgasm type sex.”

  “Not my dancing girl?” her sister whined about one of many treasures they’d tucked away in the cottage because it reminded them of their real home in South Shore.

  “No, my Grizzly’s piggy bank from the first game I ever went to.” Dani let out a sigh. “At least I ended up finding three dollars and forty-seven cents.”

  “You were able to count it? I now doubt the intensity of that orgasm.”

  “Doubt all you want,” Dani challenged. “It’s been almost two weeks and if he walked through that door right now I’d clench so hard a safe cracker couldn’t get in.”

  “And why aren’t you with him?”

  “I texted, I called, I even showed up on his doorstep and I was ignored, sent to voicemail and dismissed by his ex at the door.”

  “His ex?” her sister asked as she pulled up her phone and started typing then flashed a picture of Candace being brought out on a gurney with police officers escorting her. “This ex.”

  “That’s her.” Dani took the phone and started swiping down. “What happened?”

  “I read she was committed to a psych ward. And you let her tell you something. Bitch is crazy.”

  “Well he’s with her. Maybe he likes crazy.”

  Rome sat across from Candace in the dayroom at Harvest Pines Psychiatric Facility. The room had been cleared and a councilor sat in a chair to Rome’s left. This was the first time he’d been allowed to see her. She was the mother of his child and as much as he wanted to dismiss her as an ex-girlfriend, they had a bond that would lock them together until the end of his life.

  “Candace has made great improvements over the last week,” Dr. Millstone explained as he put on his half rimmed glasses.

  “I don’t like those,” Candace said as if she were being passed a snake.

  “We’ve discussed this, Candace. I require these to read and there will be others in your life that do the same.” Dr. Millstone kept his voice calm and understanding with just a hint of authority. “You want to live in the world, you’ll have to start coming to grips with things that upset you. Remember your coping drills. You don’t want to go back on Geodon do you?”

  Rome stayed silent as Candace touched each of her fingers with her thumb as if she were doing a concussion test. Coach Marshall had been understanding when Rome asked for a little bit of time to process and deal with the situation. It was Dani he prayed would forgive him. Her calls and texts stopped on Saturday. He feared it wasn’t a coincidence that was the same night he’d committed Candace.

  “She seems worse than when we admitted her,” Rome said. “She was functioning in society. Are you sure she isn’t better off her meds?”

  “We sent someone out to the home she had been living in. The walls were covered with images of you, Danika Albright—”

  “Whore bitch,” Candace snapped and Dr. Millstone put his hand up to silence her. “No, she stole him. Bought him I bet. Rich people do that. Like the football team. Traded him like livestock only he’s not. He’s mine. I paid for him. I have a receipt.”

  “Candace, Rome’s here,” Dr. Millstone said.

  Candace looked over at Rome and then smoothed her hair and straightened her shirt. “Hey,” she meekly said as she smiled. “Any chance we can work this out? I don’t like this place.”

  “Candi,” Rome said and she seemed to melt into the chair.

  “Remember—” she exclaimed. “Remember when I brought DeMonte to see you? He had such a good time. He’s a great kid. It doesn’t matter where we are he’s happy.”

  “I see that.”

  “But I can’t bring him to you when I’m here,” she stated plainly.

  “Where’s DeMonte?” Dr. Millstone asked. “Candace, do you know where he’s staying. We’ve discussed it.”

  “I can’t let Rome know,” she said, leaning in close to the doctor. “If I let him know he won’t need me. He needs to need me.”

  “Candace, it’s time to go back to your room.” Dr. Millstone motioned for an orderly to escort her out.

  “As you can see, we’re still balancing her out. Evenings are hard. She’s less violent than when we first brought her in. It’s going to take longer than we thought. I’m going to ask that you not come by for at least a month.”

  “A month?” Rome asked, annoyed by the conflicts in his life taking over. Life was supposed to be simple. “I’ll pay for her, support her any way you can, but I need to know she’s well enough so I can move forward with my life. For DeMonte too. He should be starting pre-K in the fall. I need to get things in order for that.”

  “This disease doesn’t have a set pattern. I can’t predict how she’ll react to drugs. This is an illness. She’s not hearing voices like some of our patients, but socially she doesn’t read people correctly. The paranoia is there. I’m going to recommend she stay in a group home for at least a year when she leaves here. Then maybe she’ll be able to get into her own apartment. That isn’t going to guarantee she won’t go off the cocktail we figure out.”

  “How did I miss it?” Rome asked. Sure he hadn’t really seen her since she’d walked out on him, but her being moody before he would have never thought was this serious of an illness.

  “When we did the intake history with her mother it seems she had her first break around twenty-two,” Dr. Millstone began. “At the time they treated her more for bi-polar depression, but when she got pregnant with DeMonte she went off the meds. Then she went into hyper mama bear mode. To her, DeMonte was a blessing and curse. Son of a superstar with expectations she had to make sure he filled. I’m surprised she even went to the hospital to have him. When social workers intervened she fled, sure they were trying to steal him for his talent.”

  “So that’s why she left me.” Rome wanted to punch himself for assuming she’d just been a money grubbing gold digger, instead of being a scared woman thinking everyone was after her child. Then he blamed himself, how many times had he talked to her about the scouts out for themselves who stalked him and his mother.

  Dr. Millstone flipped a few pages back in her chart. “Candace wasn’t assigned a social worker like most with schizophrenia do, especially one with a child. She now has one, but she kept moving around to avoid being medicated and losing DeMonte in the foster care system.”

  “Right now there’s no indication she harmed DeMonte, but the thought
that boy might be ignored or passed off to someone because she’s having a manic episode…” Rome brought his hands together in prayer. In a few days, DeMonte had become his whole life. Each day he woke up secure in the fact he’d be going to bed that night in the same spot. The child was coming out of his shell and talking more. Rome had flown his mother up to help with him, but like Candace’s mother, it wasn’t a long term solution. “As much as I want him to know his mother, I never want to put him in danger.”

  “All I can recommend to the courts is supervised visitation. She can’t be alone with him and never in a place where she can walk out a door.” Dr. Millstone noted on the chart. “I’ll send the documentation and records to your attorney. Have you thought about the costs?”

  “Costs? She has medical assistance right?”

  “She does…as well as her social worker is getting her started on disability through Medicare but, Mr. Speed, this is a for profit facility. We explained that to your attorney.”

  “You don’t take her insurance.”

  “Legally we do, but it’s not our policy because we have costs above and beyond what those insurances cover.”

  “Bill me, unless I don’t want to know how much it is.”

  “It’s a significant cost. Especially with the extended time we need to house her.”

  “Are you kicking her out?” Rome asked defensively? “Because I have money.”

  “I’m aware, but you might want to apply for private insurance or…” Mr. Millstone took off his glasses and folded them neatly. “You say you’re going to be there for this woman. For your son. Have you put him on the insurance you get through the Grizzlies?”

  “Yes, but the only way I could put Candace on is to marry her.”

  Dr. Millstone shrugged his shoulders. “Is that an option?”

  “No, I’m not marrying her. Are you believing her delusions now?”

  “It’s not going to be easy having her in your life. She’ll be melting down and you’re on her emergency call list.” Setting the chart down on the chair next to him, Dr. Millstone gave Rome a hard look. “The last thing I want for Candace is to be abandoned into the system, but I doubt you’ll have a future if you’re locked into her.”