But it had happened. Just like Starr’s death had happened, and just like he’d lost the kids. Why was it all hitting at once like this? Are you punishing me, God? It wasn’t a flippantly asked question. He truly wanted to know.
Pete took a swig from the grimy water jug beside him. “I’m sorry, man. You don’t deserve this. I wish I could…I don’t know…do something. But I’ll be honest, Wade. I don’t understand why things are happening to you the way they are.”
“Yeah, well…if you figure it out, would you let me in on the secret. Because I’ve had about all I can take.” He dropped his head to his knees and raked splayed fingers through his hair. “I’m supposed to see the kids again next week. I’m not sure I can face them.”
“What do you mean?”
“How can I ever tell them what I did?”
“Wade, you didn’t do anything.” Pete’s voice rose in frustration. “If anything, it’s the drug companies that are to blame. Besides, the kids are too young to understand any of this. They don’t need to know any of this junk.”
“Pete…I…I’m about ready to give up.” He looked up and met his friend’s eyes. “But I don’t even know how to do that. How to let go…”
Pete stared at him. “You mean with the kids?”
“Maybe that’s what this is about. Maybe God’s trying to tell me to give up on trying to get them back.”
“No.” Pete yanked off his cap and slapped it against his knee, causing a little cloud of dust to rise. “You know better than that. You’re fighting a just cause, Wade. Don’t let this dampen your resolve. Those kids need you.” Pete’s eyebrows shot up. “Hey, wasn’t this the day you were supposed to see them?”
Wade nodded. “They came this morning. I had them for one lousy hour.”
Pete gave a sympathetic wince. “But they’re doing okay?”
“They’re fine. Man, it was good to see them, but it about ripped my heart out to let them go again.”
“So, did the social worker leave you be?”
“She was there the whole time. But she was okay. It wasn’t as bad as I expected. The kids like her.”
“Good...good.”
Absently, Wade picked up a triangular scrap from a shingle and flung it like a Frisbee off the roof. “Do you know how fast an hour flies by, though? It seemed like the kids just got there, and before I knew it, she was telling me she had to get them back.”
“What about the foster home? Everything okay there?”
“It seems to be. The kids didn’t say much.” Wade suddenly felt weary to the bone. He dropped his head to his knees again, feeling the strength seep from him. “It’s only been two weeks…Locke says this could drag on for months. Is it right for me to put the kids through this?”
“You’re not putting them through this.” Pete’s voice rose. “Come on, Wade…Quit talking like this.”
He looked up at his friend. “Should I even be fighting this custody deal, Pete?”
“You don’t have a choice, man! You can’t just let their father have them. You know that.” Pete clapped him on the back. “Hey…hang in there. I know God’s with you through it all, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Margie and I are here for you too. You’ll get through this. We’re praying for you––every day. You know that.”
“I know.”
It was a good thing, too. Because he couldn’t pray for himself right now if his life depended on it.
Chapter 27
In spite of the sunshine spilling in through the multipaned windows of the St. Joseph’s Foster Care Agency, the air in the spacious playroom was chilly. Dee stood in the arched doorway and watched Darrin Parnell. He was perched on the edge of one of the child-sized chairs that furnished the room. Leaning over Lacey’s shoulder Darrin looked on as his daughter chose a new crayon from the tattered green-and-yellow box that sat open on the low table in front of her.
“That’s pretty,” he said, pointing to the picture she was coloring.
“Thanks,” Lacey said without looking up.
“You like to draw, huh? Your mama was a good artist.”
“Uh-huh, I know.” Lacey’s eyes never moved from the page of the coloring book.
From where she stood, Dee could see the girl’s furrowed brow and the firm set of her mouth.
Though Darrin was polite––even charming at times––Dee noticed that all the children remained rather aloof from him. And from what she could observe, he seemed acutely aware of their reticence. Dee watched him flit from one child to the next, like a bee searching, without luck, for a blossom to pollinate. It was painful to watch, but she had to give the man credit for trying.
As if demonstrating her musings, Darrin eased off the seat and went to stand over a beanbag chair in the corner where Beau was flopped, a magazine spread open in his lap.
“What are you reading there, son?”
Beau turned over the colorful cover and held it up for Darrin to see.
“Boys’ Life, huh? I used to read that when I was a kid. What’s that article about? Are you in Scouts?”
Beau grunted something unintelligible and shrugged before opening the magazine again.
Darrin knelt on the floor beside the beanbag chair. He pointed to a page of Beau’s magazine, whispered something, then laughed. Dee couldn’t hear what he’d said, but he had Beau’s attention now. Beau’s eyes went to his father’s face, and his mouth went slack. Darrin whispered something else. Beau’s expression didn’t change, but he squirmed in the chair, and Dee thought he seemed uncomfortable at whatever Darrin had said.
She stepped away from the doorway and moved closer to where they sat. She cleared her throat. “No whispering, please,” she said.
“I can’t talk to my own son?” Parnell said evenly.
“Of course you can. Just…please don’t whisper.”
Darrin shot Beau an exaggerated wink. “I think the lady is a little cranky this morning, what do you think, son?”
Beau nodded noncommittally and went back to his magazine.
Darrin turned and flashed a smile at Dee. He had white, even teeth and a dimple that gave him a boyish look. He smelled of some spicy aftershave and wintergreen chewing gum.
“I’m just kidding,” he said, giving her the same wink he’d given Beau.
Dee ignored his comment and went to sit at the table near the door to catch up on some paperwork she’d brought. She looked at her watch. There was still half an hour left of their visit. It was going to be a long morning. She thought to suggest an activity the family could do together, but something made her hold back. If things didn’t go better next time, she’d intervene, but she wanted to give Darrin Parnell a chance to proceed at his own speed. It couldn’t be easy trying to woo his children on foreign turf and in front of watchful eyes. And he was trying.
Wade shifted in his chair, crossed one khaki-clad leg over the other, and tugged at the knot in his tie that threatened to choke him. The conference room was stuffy, and they were seated too close around the wobbly table. Every creak of a metal folding chair, every scrape of a heel on the grimy tile echoed through the sparsely furnished room.
The meeting hadn’t even started, and Wade felt weary from averting his eyes a dozen times to avoid the inquisitive gazes of Betty Graffe from SRS, Ben and Karen Xavier, and the guardian ad litem, an attorney appointed to represent the children. Dee Thackery, the caseworker who had supervised Wade’s first visit with the children, was chairing the meeting. She sat with a legal pad and a stack of papers in front of her, alternately checking her watch and the door. Today her business attire and staid demeanor felt threatening. Wade tried unsuccessfully to picture her as she’d been that day at his house, casually dressed, playing with the kids, making small talk with him.
He felt as if he were already on trial. And in a sense, he was. Frank Locke was in court this morning and hadn’t been able to make this meeting, but he’d warned Wade that the impression he made in the case planning meeting today was cruci
al.
Beau, Lacey, and Dani had been taken to the playroom down the hall. But when the kids had first seen him in the corridor a few minutes earlier, they’d squealed and jumped on him as if he were a long lost puppy dog. It had done his heart good. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get rid of all these people and just spend a few minutes with his kids. But that wasn’t on today’s agenda.
He pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch. The meeting should have started fifteen minutes ago. They were still waiting on Darrin Parnell. Wade allowed himself to entertain a fragile hope that the man would not show up, that he had given up on trying to get his children back, that he’d gone back to Minneapolis forever. At the very least, Parnell had made a bad impression by being late for this crucial meeting. Wade hated the way the vindictive thoughts made him feel.
A commotion in the hallway brought him back to the present. St. Joseph’s receptionist appeared in the doorway and behind her stood Parnell and a man Wade assumed to be his attorney. Like his lawyer, Darrin Parnell was dressed in a blue suit and tie. His hair was neatly combed, and he was freshly shaven, bringing the scent of Old Spice into the room with him.
Wade suddenly felt like a slouch.
“Terribly sorry to be late,” Parnell said with a warm smile. He nodded to each person in the room, his eyes darkening briefly when his gaze swept over Wade. “We got stuck behind a train.”
Everyone nodded sympathetically, and the tiny glimmer of hope Wade had nurtured vanished. In Coyote County, where alternate routes were few and far between, the Santa Fe Railroad trains were a famous––and legitimate––excuse for tardiness.
Everyone shifted to allow Parnell and his attorney a place at the table. Parnell put his briefcase on the table and took a seat beside his attorney.
Dee Thackery cleared her throat and picked up a sheaf of papers from the table. “Is everyone here now who’s expected?” When no one spoke up, Dee looked at her watch. “Well, then, let’s get started, shall we?”
For the next half hour she went through one page after another, asking for input from those present, outlining goals for each child, stating the agency’s requirements for Wade and Darrin Parnell, and answering queries––mostly from Parnell’s attorney and the guardian ad litem.
Throughout the meeting, Parnell’s attorney slid notes to his client and whispered asides, apparently explaining the legal terms and agency jargon that were used with abandon.
Wade felt incompetent to ask an intelligent question and kept quiet, wishing he’d been more insistent about Frank Locke’s presence at this meeting.
“Now about visitation…” Dee tamped a stack of completed forms on the table and picked up the next sheet, aiming her remarks at Betty Graffe and the other personnel from SRS. “I’ve already attended successful visits with Mr. Parnell and Mr. Sullivan. The plan calls for continued once-weekly supervised visits. After the next hearing we can revisit the issue if necessary. Since Mr. Parnell is commuting from out-of-state, his visitations take place here at St. Joe’s on Friday afternoons. Visitations with Mr. Sullivan occur on Tuesdays, and at the request of Mr. Sullivan and his attorney, the children are being taken to his home for visitation.”
Darrin Parnell rose from his chair. “I object to that,” he blurted. His attorney reached out and tugged at his client’s sleeve, but Parnell shrugged him off. “I don’t want my children out there. There’s no reason for it. He can see them here at the agency like I have to.”
Dee Thackery leafed through several pages before looking up. “It’s my understanding the request for in-home visits with Mr. Sullivan was made for several reasons. Mr. Sullivan’s house has been the children’s home since their mother’s death, so understandably there are many memories there for them.”
“I know they’ve missed being out in the country,” the foster mother chimed in. “We have a nice fenced yard, but there’s not much room for them to explore. They have a dog out there, too, that they’re always talking about. I think those were big considerations when the decision was originally made.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary,” Parnell said, wagging his head, still on his feet. “Due to circumstances I can’t control, I don’t have the same privilege to see my kids in my home. They’re going to have to make the break at some point. It seems like this is as good a time as any.”
Wade sat forward on his chair and put his elbows on the table in front of him. “Please…” He aimed his remarks at Dee Thackery. “If this is truly about what’s best for the children, as you all keep saying, it seems like it’s not asking too much for them to be able to see their dog once a week––and to be at the house they’ve called home since…since their mother died. Besides, most of their things––their toys and stuff––are still out at the house and––”
“Then get their things out of there.” Parnell’s voice was even, but a line of red crept up his neck. “There’s no reason their toys can’t be moved to the foster home––maybe even the dog––”
“Oh no. We can’t have a dog,” Karen Xavier objected. “And we…really don’t have a lot of storage space, either. They already brought a lot with them…”
“Then I’ll take their things back to Minneapolis with me,” Parnell said. “They do not need to be at his place.” He angled his head sharply in Wade’s direction.
“But the kids couldn’t have access to their things if you take them to Minneapolis.” Wade struggled to keep his voice steady. “It seems you’re assuming the kids will end up with––” Feeling an internal, holy restraint, he clipped off his words and set his lips in a tight seam. He didn’t know anything about legal strategies, but he was fairly certain Frank Locke would not want him getting into the subject of the court’s final decision. Even if he did have a good point. Whatever the reason, he somehow knew he was to be quiet for now.
“Listen, buddy,” Parnell said, his voice rising an octave. “Those are my kids and you better not forget it. You’re lucky you even get to––”
“Darrin––” Parnell’s attorney stood and put a hand on his arm. “Come on…calm down.” His tone was hushed, but it was obvious everyone in the room heard him.
Parnell brushed him off, but he did sit down, putting his elbows on the table and smoothing a hand over his hair.
Parnell’s attorney turned to face Dee Thackery. “The visit was supervised, correct?”
“Yes, I supervised it.”
“And you felt it went satisfactorily?”
“Yes, I did.”
The lawyer nodded and jotted something down on the legal pad in front of him.
Dee turned to Parnell. “Are we okay, then, with leaving visitation as it is presently?”
Parnell didn’t respond, but his lawyer nodded approval for him, as did everyone else around the table. Wade was surprised at the immense sense of triumph he felt. A minuscule victory, but victory nevertheless.
Chapter 28
A weekend rain had left the countryside lush and green, and Dee felt her spirits lift as she laughed and joked with the Parnell children on the drive out to Wade Sullivan’s place. This would be the fourth time she’d supervised a visit here, and the route was becoming familiar.
On either side, field after field of wheat stubble waited to be plowed under or burned off. Twice Dee had to slow the car as tractors pulling wide implements hogged the road, headed to fields that were most likely still too damp to work. She looked at the clock on the dashboard and pressed harder on the accelerator. Wade would be wondering where they were. At his request, they’d changed the visitation time to eight in the morning, but she’d gotten a bit of a late start today.
Finally, they pulled into the drive. Dee couldn’t help but contrast this tidy farmhouse with the typical homes she visited––run-down apartment houses, mobile homes in weed-infested trailer parks, and ramshackle bungalows on the proverbial wrong side of the Santa Fe tracks. Wade’s house seemed to welcome visitors with its wide front porch spilling over with pots of col
orful geraniums and faded pansies. The lawn was neatly cut, and the sidewalk leading to the front door was swept clean.
Without having to be reminded, Dee drove around back and parked. The kids threw off their seatbelts and scrambled out, calling Wade’s name and whistling for the dog.
Dee locked the car and started across the driveway. But before she reached the walk, she heard the back door slam and looked up to see Wade coming to meet the children.
The three of them squealed with delight and raced to his side. Dee stayed in the background, watching their joyful greetings. In what had become their ritual, Wade lifted each little girl high into the air before capturing her in a hug, then he turned to Beau and rubbed his knuckles affectionately over the boy’s spiky, sun-bleached hair.
In spite of her initial reservations about Wade, Dee was beginning to wonder why these kids had ever been taken from his home in the first place.
Lacey’s gaze panned the yard, and a flicker of worry crossed her face. “Where’s Shadow?”
“He’s probably down taking a swim…trying to stay cool.” Wade whistled and they all waited expectantly. When the dog didn’t appear after a couple minutes, Wade put an arm across Lacey’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, he’ll be up to see you before you leave.” He looked at the sun, shading his eyes against the glare. “It’s already pretty hot…maybe we better find something to do inside.”
Dee watched him, noticing the crinkled lines the sun had baked into his skin. With his neatly trimmed hair streaked with gold highlights, she realized that in a rugged, outdoorsy way Wade Sullivan was quite attractive. She wondered what his relationship with the children’s mother had been like. Watching Wade with the children now, she had a feeling he had loved their mother very much. She shook her head to clear the thoughts, wondering why they were so unsettling.
A Nest of Sparrows Page 19
