Maria looked puzzled and Sandy explained.
“Because my father told me not to tell anybody, I would not talk to the police,” Maria said.
“Police?”
Sandy told him what she knew about the arrests and interrogation of the men who lived in the trailer.
“So none of the arrests were related to Maria?”
“Right, but an officer still tried to interview her.”
Jeremy looked at Maria. “You decide if you want to talk to the police or not.”
Maria nodded.
“Carol Ramsey was there during the attempted questioning,” Sandy said. “She told me Maria refused to cooperate and mentioned the possibility of having Maria declared mentally incompetent. What do you think about that?”
“It’s a clever tactic,” Jeremy replied.
“Clever tactic?”
“Yes. If a juvenile court judge ruled Maria incompetent, a guardian would have input into what happens to the baby. The appointment of a guardian doesn’t mean Maria would lose all her rights, but it would raise the question of whether she can make a decision in her own best interests. The fact that the pregnancy is the result of rape would be a factor to be considered in support of terminating the pregnancy.”
“There’s no reason for a guardian,” Sandy said. “You can see for yourself that Maria is competent.”
“What you and I think is irrelevant. A psychologist and/ or psychiatrist would evaluate her and render an opinion to the judge. Their assessments would probably dictate the result.”
“Could Carol suggest who would do the evaluations?”
“Yes.”
Sandy’s confidence that Carol’s opinion about Maria’s competency wasn’t a serious threat was shaken.
“I’m not sure I can translate all that,” she said.
“I think we’ve given Maria enough to think about today. That part will be relevant only if an incompetency petition is filed.”
Maria looked from Jeremy to Sandy.
“What?” she asked.
“Tell her we’re talking about things that haven’t happened but might,” Jeremy replied. “If there are other problems, you and Ms.
Lincoln can come back to see me.”
Sandy translated.
“Okay,” Maria said.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“No.” Maria shook her head.
“How about you?” Jeremy asked Sandy.
“What’s the fee for your services today?” Sandy reached for her purse. “I appreciate you seeing us on such short notice. I brought my checkbook so you won’t have to send me a bill.”
Jeremy raised his hand. “Nothing. If my mother were here, she’d send me to my room without supper if I charged a fee.
She does a lot of volunteer work with pregnant teenage girls.
Compared to her sacrifices, this is minor.”
“Thanks. Ben mentioned that,” Sandy said.
“And don’t hesitant to call me if something else comes up.
Especially if the counselor at the school files a petition to declare Maria incompetent.”
Everyone stood, and Sandy stepped forward to shake Jeremy’s hand. When she did, she saw a framed photo on the corner of his desk. Something about the picture looked vaguely familiar. She turned her head to look, and Jeremy followed her eyes.
“My childhood home in Charleston,” he said, handing the photo to Sandy. “That’s me as a little boy standing in the front yard.”
Sandy felt the office spin around. It was the house in the picture she’d looked at in Mrs. Longwell’s office. There was no doubt about it. Sandy’s hand trembled slightly as she returned the photograph to him.
“Very nice,” she managed. “Charleston is a beautiful old city.”
“My mother still lives there. Did Ben mention to you that I’m an adoptee?”
“Uh, no.”
“It’s another reason why I’m willing to help you and Maria. I don’t know anything about my birth mother, but I’m glad she made the decision to give me life.”
Sandy nodded numbly and looked at the pictures on the credenza.
“And those are your children?” she asked.
“Yes, Chloe is ten and Zach is five.”
Jeremy pointed to the photo taken in the rushing stream.
“That’s my wife, Leanne, and the children during a vacation in the mountains last summer.”
“May I see it?” Sandy asked, her voice a little shaky.
Jeremy handed the picture to Sandy, who devoured the images with her eyes and seared every nuance into her mind.
“Your son has reddish-brown hair.”
“Yes, we’re not sure where that came from. There aren’t any redheads in Leanne’s background.”
Up close, Sandy could see the influence of Brad Donnelly’s gene pool in the little boy’s features. The girl looked like a Lincoln. Sandy put her hand on the lawyer’s desk to steady herself.
“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked.
“Uh, yes. It’s been a long, emotional day. And I need to get Maria home.”
She handed the photo to Jeremy, who returned it to its place. He took two business cards from a brass holder on his desk and handed one to Maria and the other to Sandy.
“Keep these and call me if you have questions.”
Sandy clutched the card and stared at Jeremy. Memories of the fair-haired newborn in the infant nursery of the hospital in Atlanta flooded her thoughts. To see the finished product staggered her.
“Anything else today?” Jeremy asked with a slightly puzzled expression on his face.
Sandy’s mind screamed that she had thousands and thousands of questions. She tore her gaze away from Jeremy.
“No, thanks again for meeting with us.”
“I’ll see you out since Deb probably locked the door.”
As he led them from his office, Sandy had a chance to see the back of Jeremy’s head and his broad shoulders. The young lawyer walked with the confident step of a man who knew where he was going in life. Sandy’s emotions boiled to the surface. She dabbed her sleeve against her eyes as Jeremy unlocked the door and held it open for them.
She hurried past, hoping he couldn’t see the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks.
TWENTY-THREE
Sandy grabbed a handful of tissues from a small pack beside her seat. Maria stared at her. Sandy didn’t speak as she dried her eyes. She adjusted the rearview mirror so she could see her face. Her eyes were red, but what struck her was how much of her could be seen in Jeremy Lane. It made her wonder why she’d not suspected who he was even before she saw the picture on his desk. Her eyes flooded again. The magnitude of what had just happened was enough to make her heart burst.
“I’m sorry,” she said through her sniffles to Maria.
“Did I do or say something bad?” Maria asked with a worried look.
“No, no.” Sandy reached out and patted Maria’s leg. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
Sandy started the car and backed out of the parking spot. Jeremy came out of the building, saw them, and waved. Sandy fought an impulse to jump out of the car, tell him who she was, and collapse in his arms. Instead, she waved weakly, hoping there was enough distance that he couldn’t see her tearstained face. As she drove away from the office, she saw Jeremy get in a white SUV.
Oh Lord, what is going on? she said to herself.
Maria continued to stare at her.
“Do you need to drink some water?” Maria asked.
“Yes,” Sandy said. “That’s a good idea.”
Sandy pulled into a convenience store.
“Pick out whatever you’d like,” she said to Maria. “I’ll pay for it.”
Sandy went into the restroom and inspected herself in the mirror. She was a mess. She splashed cold water on her face. Standing in front of the drink cooler, her mind went back to the long-ago day when she’d stopped at the gas station between Rutland and Atlanta and encountere
d the strange woman who told her about the twins. Seeing Jeremy grown up and safe made more tears come. Sandy didn’t know where the other twin might be, but if the woman’s warning was true, Sandy had done her part to keep them safe. She opened the cooler and grabbed a water. Maria was waiting for her at the cash register with a bottle of fruit juice in her hand.
“Good choice,” Sandy said.
They left Tryon and rode in silence as Sandy went over in her mind what she’d seen in Jeremy’s office. Every time she thought about the family photos on the credenza, her tears returned.
She had two grandchildren!
No children are perfect, but the two youngsters looked as perfectly normal as possible. Sandy held them with invisible arms and kissed them with imaginary kisses. Maria continued to sit calmly with her hands in her lap, looking out the car window.
“Maria,” Sandy said.
The girl turned toward her. Sandy spoke in Spanish.
“You’ll never know who the baby inside you might become if you don’t give him or her a chance to be born.”
Maria knit her eyebrows together for a moment.
“Do you understand what I mean?” Sandy asked.
“I think so.”
Sandy started to explain but didn’t. She’d planted a seed. There would be time later to water it.
It was dusk when Sandy turned into Maria’s trailer park. She passed rows of mobile homes. Most were in need of repair; a few didn’t look fit for human habitation.
“That’s our trailer.” Maria pointed to one that had three pickup trucks parked in front of it.
“Is your father home?” Sandy asked.
“No, and Emilio is there. Please don’t stop,” Maria said anxiously. “Rosalita lives over there. I’ll stay with her tonight.”
Farther down the row, Sandy saw a smaller trailer with Rosalita’s car parked in front.
“Are you going to tell your father about the meeting with the lawyer?” Sandy asked.
“Is it wrong not to tell him?”
Sandy had never advised a student to keep a secret from her parents.
“If you think it might put you in danger from Emilio, I don’t think you should tell him. At least not now.”
Maria nodded. “I will talk to Rosalita.”
“Can you trust her to keep a secret?”
“Yes. We talk about everything.”
“Okay. Ask her what she thinks about letting the baby be adopted by a couple who wants a child very much.”
Maria opened the door of the car.
“Thank you for taking me today,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry you are so sad.”
“No,” Sandy said and shook her head. “Those tears came from another place. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Maria turned away. Sandy waited until the door of the trailer opened and the girl went inside. When Sandy passed Maria’s trailer on her way out, there were two rough-looking men standing on the narrow front stoop drinking beer. They watched Sandy pass.
With Maria out of the car, Sandy gave full rein to thoughts about Jeremy and his family. Questions rose so rapidly in her mind that she didn’t have time to come up with possible answers. After arriving home, she fed Nelson then turned on her computer and searched for “Jeremy Lane Attorney.” The first few hits provided little more than Jeremy’s business address and phone number. When she found one that included personal information, the first item that popped up made her stop and stare at the screen.
“Born April 5, 1975, Atlanta, GA.”
Seeing the concrete information made Sandy feel light-headed. She’d not doubted who he was. The photo of him as a little boy in front of the house in Charleston settled that. But seeing his date and place of birth in black-and-white was like reading the news on a giant billboard. He’d gone to college at Furman University in Greenville, where he received a BA, magna cum laude, in English.
She smiled. “That’s my boy.”
He attended law school at the University of South Carolina and had been a member of the Georgia bar for eight years. She continued to search, but to her disappointment nothing else turned up. She turned off the computer and sat back in her chair, completely drained. She’d been on an intense emotional high, and it was time to come down for a rest.
She brewed a pot of hot tea and relaxed in her favorite reading chair in the living room. Nelson lay at her feet. Sandy considered calling her mother, Jessica, and Ben to share her amazing discovery; however, she knew it wasn’t the right time. Also, she enjoyed privately hugging her newfound knowledge close to her heart. Sandy took a sip of tea and looked down at Nelson. He was a safe confidant.
“Nelson, let me tell you what happened today,” she began.
The following day was football Friday. Normally, Sandy ran through the evening’s cheerleading routine in her mind while she drank her morning coffee. Not today. The wonder of her encounter with her son flooded her kitchen with brightness. Still dressed in her pajamas, Sandy slowly stirred her coffee as she sat at the kitchen table. She was proud of the kind and gentle way Jeremy had treated Maria. Her cell phone beeped. It was Ben.
“Ready for tonight?” her brother asked.
“I think so.” Sandy tried to make her voice sound normal. “We’re doing a tumbling routine.”
“Betsy and I are looking forward to it. Do you have any plans after the game?”
“I left it open in case some students invite me to join them.”
Rutland was small-town enough that students would go out to eat pizza after a game and occasionally asked their favorite teachers to tag along for part of the evening.
“If that doesn’t work out, Betsy and I are going to have some folks over to the house. Nothing fancy.”
“Who’s going to be there?” Sandy asked.
“You sound like the boys. Is there anyone you’re trying to avoid?”
“No.”
“Oh, did you get in touch with the lawyer in Tryon?”
Sandy swallowed. “Yes. The student and I met with him late yesterday afternoon.”
“Nice guy, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hire him?”
“Not yet. He told us what we needed to know at this point.”
“Did he tell you to stop helping the girl?”
“That didn’t come up. We spent all our time focusing on the student and her situation.” Sandy paused. “And a little bit about Mr. Lane’s family.”
“Yeah, he’s got a couple of cute kids and a pretty wife. I delivered a disability policy to their home not long ago because she had some questions, and Jeremy wanted me to answer them in person.”
“Where do they live?” Sandy asked, trying to sound casual.
“On the south side of town. The house is nice but nothing fancy. I think they chose the area because it has the best elementary school in town. Also, you know how hard it can be starting up any new business.”
“I think he’ll do well.”
“No doubt. Listen, I’ve got to run to a breakfast meeting with a client. Remember the invitation for tonight.”
Sandy went through the day resisting the wild urge to get on the school intercom to proclaim that she’d met her son! During third period, she noticed a young man in her class with a slight resemblance to Jeremy. Sandy gave him a big smile as he passed her desk. After the room cleared of students, Maria slipped in.
“Are you feeling better?” the student asked.
“Yes,” Sandy said. “But don’t worry about me. Did you talk to Rosalita about the meeting with the lawyer?”
“Yes. My father came over to her house, and I asked him about adoption. He does not like that idea.”
“Why not?”
“The baby would go to a stranger we do not know and might not be taken care of.”
Sandy frowned. Maria’s father was being hypocritical. If he’d cared more for his own daughter, he would have shown a higher level of concern abo
ut letting a group of unsupervised men live in the trailer with her.
“What did Rosalita think?”
“She is like me and does not know.”
Two other female students entered the room to see Sandy.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Sandy said to Maria. “We’ll talk later.”
Maria left, and the students pulled papers from their backpacks.
“Ms. Lincoln, we have questions about the comments you made on our papers,” one of the girls said.
“Let me see what I wrote,” Sandy said.
Only a portion of Sandy’s mind was present with the students. The rest of it was with her newly discovered family twenty minutes away.
Like the football team, the cheerleaders assembled for a Friday night pregame meal. Of course, the two groups didn’t meet in the same place. Putting the girls and boys together would have created a major distraction that neither Sandy nor Coach Hampton wanted.
The cheerleaders met in the banquet room of a restaurant where the local Rotary Club met each Thursday. The booster club paid for the meal. Sandy, wearing a gray sweater and red woolen slacks, arrived at 5:30 p.m. Several of the girls were already there. Dick Dressler, the owner of the restaurant, greeted her at the door.
“Thanks for hosting us,” Sandy said.
“Glad to do it. Do you think we have a chance against Butler County? They have a running back who may go to Georgia next year. He’s a real brute.”
“I don’t know, but the cheerleaders are going to perform a tumbling routine that really pops.”
The rotund man wiped his forehead with a dish towel. “Sandy, you could get more out of our team than Coach Hampton. He’s too predictable. Always runs on first and second down and ends up with third and long. High school quarterbacks can’t be consistent enough to convert in those types of situations. To have a chance tonight, we’re going to have to score, and score in bunches.”
“Bruce Lowell should be able to get open tonight,” Sandy said. “I made sure he ran extra wind sprints yesterday.”
“You did?” Dressler looked surprised.
“Yes, he had a disciplinary issue in my class, and I passed along a note to Coach Hampton. Watch Lonny Mitchell too. He should be able to get to the line a fraction of a step sooner from his outside-linebacker spot.”
The Choice Page 22
