Reclaiming Lily

by Patti Lacy

“Have I explained to them?” Joy shouted. “Only a thousand times. They never listen. Why? Deep down, they’re scared of me. Especially Mother. They cannot accept my eyes, my skin, and my accent—”

  Something—somebody?—rustled near the door.

  “Now my parents might be dead!” Joy wrapped her arms around her knees and wailed. “Maybe I killed them.”

  Another rustle. A click.

  Kai raised her head. Locked eyes with Gloria, who, with Andrew, framed the doorway. Relief swathed Kai with shimmering warmth. They were safe! They could focus on Joy. Kai clasped her hands and rose. Thank the fates came to mind, but she discarded the thought. Whatever else she’d learned today, one thing was clear. The fates she’d hounded for years did not exist . . . or if they did, she no longer trusted them. They were as fickle, as capricious, as that tornado.

  13

  My baby. My Joy. Gloria trembled in relief. If Andrew weren’t holding her up, if Nicole weren’t here, surely she’d fall to her knees and thank the Lord.

  Joy leapt to her feet, darted glances as if unsure of what to do, then threw out her arms and collapsed into their embrace.

  Gloria buried her face in Joy’s hair and inhaled Joy’s sweet grass and tangy smell, the smell Gloria had learned—loved—on that first van ride. There was another odor—stale cigarettes. A problem . . . for later. Joy was alive . . . apparently uninjured!

  A flurry of radio updates and Andrew’s implacable calm had nearly convinced her of that, but words couldn’t compare to holding Joy. The quaver in her lips, the tremble of her shoulders—proof that Joy cared—caused Gloria to swallow tears and fears. She flung her arms about Joy. Despite everything, Joy loved them. Again Gloria breathed deep and prayed, Thank you, Lord.

  “We didn’t know . . . we wondered if you had . . .” Sobs hatcheted Joy’s words. Gone was Joy’s earlier angst, her earlier anger. Or perhaps it had ducked into the dark alleys of her mind, to resurface on a stressful occasion, like hearing that she would have a sibling. Though Andrew had convinced her that Joy should be told—and now—indecision crept near. How could Andrew—and Dr. Davies—be sure? Gloria didn’t know this new Joy. Lord, had she known the old Joy?

  “I am thankful that you are safe.” Kai’s words rang true. “We heard everything was clear, but it is marvelous to see evidence.”

  Gloria nodded, and considered giving Kai a hug. Not yet . . .

  “So you’re . . . okay, Mommy?” Joy leveled a gaze her way. Her eyes, cleansed of sleazy makeup, sparkled. Her girl had a dynamite smile!

  “I’m okay, sweetie,” Gloria whispered. “How about you?”

  “Good. Really. I helped Kai. Like a real nurse would. It was cool.”

  “Y’all woulda been proud of Joy.” Nicole slapped her clipboard against her thigh. “They were Chicago Hope, right here in Texas!”

  “No big deal.” Joy pursed her lips, shrugged her shoulders . . . flashed another brilliant smile. It was a huge deal, apparently.

  Andrew clapped Joy’s shoulder. “I’m—we’re proud of you.”

  “Me too.” Nicole tapped on her clipboard. “Folks, that segues to the station adjustment.” She stepped toward the door. “I know it’s nearly five, but we don’t do ’em on Fridays. We gotta nail this down . . . or hold Joy over the weekend. I don’t want that, she doesn’t want that—heck, no one wants that.”

  Amen! Gloria released Joy, though she yearned for more of Joy’s touch, Joy’s love. Oh, that things could be like they once were, when Joy listened to them and—

  “Y’all want me to listen to you, but y’all never listen to me.”

  Joy’s theme song chose this moment to replay in her mind. Gloria’s head drooped. She’d been delusional . . . for years. With a child on the way, a daughter facing a station adjustment, she’d better tune in to reality. She’d better start listening. Now.

  Kai followed the group to the same office where she’d first been reunited with her sister. The greatest moment of my life . . .

  “It’s a miracle no one was seriously hurt.” Nicole continued the chitchat started on the trip down the hall.

  Miracle. With the task I face, I could use a double portion.

  They entered Nicole’s office. With the sweep of her hand, Nicole ordered them to sit. Behaving like a true gentleman, Andrew pulled out their chairs. Kai pictured David, opening her car door, sending flowers. She missed him . . . and would call as soon as feasible.

  Nicole pulled out a file and studied it. Gloria and Andrew sat, holding hands. Gloria had been transformed by a rosy glow, an easy smile. This mother, who surely died several deaths while waiting to see Joy, had been resurrected.

  Eventually Nicole cleared her throat. “I appreciate what y’all have endured today. We battled Mother Nature. And won. Kinda.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Joy, because of your record, or lack of it, I’m leaning toward a station adjustment. We’re talking no sheet. A little service. Restitution.” Nicole smiled. “Piece of cake.”

  Heat rose to Kai’s face. Could Joy avoid serious repercussions? Another miracle.

  “Normally Moore isn’t too wild about ’em. And the paper trail stops with him.” She tapped a pencil on the table. Her chair swiveled, and she swung her leg. “After today, he’s singing your praises. I guess y’all soothed some freaked-out folks.”

  Joy slumped over but failed to hide blushing cheeks.

  Kai studied her sister. Deep down, this one longs to please. If only I can convince her, convince them all, of that. . . .

  “Anyway, thanks for helping. I got to see the real Joy. You confirmed what I’d thought all along. I had to twist Robbins’ arm, but he’s on board too, though he couldn’t be here.” Nicole waved her pencil. “As y’all can imagine, patrol’s swamped with calls. Moore waived Robbins’ scribble on the dotted line.” With a triumphant smile Nicole passed copies to Gloria, Andrew, and Joy. “Sorry.” Nicole shrugged at Kai. “That’s all I’ve got.”

  Joy fanned herself with the paper. “I’ll move over by Kai. We’ll share.”

  Kai locked eyes with Gloria, who was clawing her hand. She’s uncertain about my role. I am uncertain as well . . . but I believe I can trust these parents of Joy. Kai pushed away from the table and shook her head. “I would rather not be involved.”

  “Perhaps just Andrew and I should deal with this” was said with dignity, by a different Gloria.

  Kai felt in her pocket for her phone and let the smooth plastic soothe her. She needed to hear David’s voice, to tell him of the storms she had endured. He would murmur consolation. How she yearned for his affection, after staring death in the face . . . on that prisoner’s leg, her sister’s wrist. The images rocketed Kai from her chair. It was time to call Boston.

  “Stop!” Joy flew to her feet and flung her paper to the floor. “Mommy, how dare you diss Kai?”

  “Joy, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  With sweaty fingers, Kai jammed her phone in her pocket. Joy majored in mood swings. Attitude. This time, manufactured from thin air. “You misunderstand.”

  “It’s pretty—” Joy swore—“clear to me!”

  “Joy, I promise, I didn’t mean to hurt you or Kai. I’m sorry you misunderstood.”

  “I’m sorry too!” Joy stomped her foot and tossed her head. Purple-black hair swished. “Sorry you ever adopted me.”

  Anger paralyzed Kai. She could only stare at the ashen face of Gloria, so undeserving of this assault. Surely the latest of dozens.

  Joy continued her tirade. Fueled by the hate in Joy’s voice, fueled by knowledge of what Mother would have done to such an ill-behaved child, fueled by what Joy had been rescued from, Kai grabbed Joy’s arm and squeezed. “Do not utter such unspeakable things.” The words hissed like Kai’s townhouse radiator. “In front of me. In front of your parents.” Anger radiated to Kai’s every cell. “Your parents sacrificed for you. In ways you will never understand. So did we, Joy.” Kai paused when her lungs begged relief. “I
have not traveled thousands of miles to hear a Chang talk like this.”

  Joy ducked her head and then lifted it. Red splotched her cheeks, her chin, even her nose. “Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.” Her tone had flattened. “But I will not sign any agreement unless Kai is involved. Do you hear me?”

  “No.” Kai shouldered her handbag. Stood. “You are not running the show, Joy.” Anger smoldered. “I have calls to make. I will wait for you in the lobby.” She strode to the door and turned to face Joy. “Sit down and do what they want.”

  The words hung heavy and seemed to pin Gloria and Andrew to their seats. Only Nicole rustled about, her eyes riveted to her file as if its papers explained the meaning of life.

  Surprisingly, Joy complied, and slumped against her chair arm. Perhaps the latest tirade exhausted her. As well it should.

  After terse good-byes, Kai left the room. For now, those three could deal with Joy. Then she remembered the thing she must discuss with the Powells and darted a fearful glance backward. It must be done later. But soon. Oh, what a mess! Trying but failing to summon strength, Kai slogged down the hall.

  The makeup’s gone. Gloria darted looks at her daughter, who had slumped so dramatically, her rear end hung off the seat. But the attitude’s blown back in.

  Nicole plucked Joy’s paper off the floor and plopped it into Joy’s lap. “Well, all right, then.” Gone was the breezy smile. Nicole sat down and turned to face Joy. Her wedge sandals clapped against the floor. “Here’s the deal.”

  Joy picked her cuticles. If she heard, she gave no indication.

  “You were accused of stealing a negligee and thong underwear from Sexy Lady at 11:00 on April 4.” Nicole stared at her watch. “That’s today.”

  “Sexy Lady?” Gloria’s stomach knotted. Her baby had shoplifted sleazy clothes? “Why in heaven’s name did you steal a negligee?” Her anger snapped Joy to attention.

  Though Andrew clenched Gloria’s knee, she wasn’t stopping, no siree. “Are you sexually active, Joy? Answer me!”

  Joy stiffened but otherwise didn’t move.

  “Gloria . . .” Andrew squeezed her hand.

  “Don’t ‘Gloria’ me! I need to know these things!” Gloria slid off her chair and knelt by Joy, whose face had begun to crumple like a wadded tissue.

  Gloria’s anger splintered and showered onto everyone. Everything. How had Joy gotten so messed up? How had they gotten so messed up? “Well, are you? It’s a simple question.” She squeezed Joy’s hand. Surprised at its fragility, its chill, she loosened her hold.

  Joy shook her head but was losing composure.

  “I need to hear the words!” Gloria’s voice was escalating, but she didn’t care. “Talk to me.” If Joy’d had sex, she could be pregnant! The thought of her own pregnancy again washed over her. So new, so unbelievable; so polar opposite from this, though this was also new. Unbelievable.

  “Mrs. Powell, I understand your concern.” Nicole pulled out a pen. “I really do. But we have a different priority. We’ve gotta settle this station adjustment . . . or book her.”

  “What Nicole is saying, Joy—” Andrew pled in his altar-call voice.

  Nicole tapped her pen on the table. “No offense, Mr. Powell, but it would be best if I handled this.” A page rustled as Nicole fiddled with her clipboard. “If you don’t cooperate, Joy, I have no choice but to let them book you. Understand?”

  Gloria closed her eyes. Father, let her see past her pain and accept this chance. Joy needed help. It wouldn’t come from her or Andrew. Not now. She wobbled to her seat.

  An eternity passed . . . or was it a second? Joy nodded.

  “Well, all right, then.” Nicole leaned back in her chair. “What can you tell me about the allegation made against you by Detective Robbins?”

  Silence reigned. Gloria wasn’t sure what she hated most: that silence or the memory of her own nagging voice.

  “We have surveillance tapes, Joy. Living color of your every move.” Sarcasm now tinged Nicole’s confident tone. Gone was the effusive praise and encouraging smile. “It’s open and shut. There’s two choices. We’ll arrest you. Fingerprint you. Take a glamour photo.”

  “Can you explain ‘station adjustment’ again?” Joy asked dully.

  “You confess. No muss, no fuss . . . no record. As long as you’re compliant.”

  A phone rang.

  Nicole made it to her desk in four strides. She picked up her phone. “Barton. Um-hum. Right.” The phone rattled into its cradle. Nicole slid back into her chair. “Look. You’ve got two minutes to decide.”

  Joy raised her head. A hollow look had replaced her sullen stare.

  Pain pricked Gloria. She could not bear this! She leaned across the table. “Joy, what can we do—”

  Nicole slapped the desk with her file. “Please, Mrs. Powell. I know you’re trying to help, but truth be told, you aren’t.”

  You aren’t. Gloria’s cheeks burned from the slap of the words. From the truth.

  “Joy’s gotta accept blame for what she’s done and move on. It’s her choice.”

  Andrew rustled about. Gloria stared at the art on the wall, expecting it—and her nerves—to explode.

  “I . . . I did it,” came from behind a curtain of hair.

  “Well, all right, then.” Nicole’s tone became giddy. “You have a real chance here. To turn things around.”

  Joy twisted to face Nicole. “What do I do next?”

  Nicole pointed to the form. “It’s all right here.”

  Joy pushed back her hair, ducked her head, and pulled the paper close.

  For the first time, Gloria realized that Joy’s glasses were gone. Not sexy enough, I suppose. She caught herself studying Joy’s cute nose, exquisite eyes, smooth brow. When, oh, when had her girl needed makeup, dyed hair, and vulgar clothes to feel beautiful? Wanted? Had she ditched her glasses because she couldn’t bear being called a dork? Why couldn’t she see her smarts as an asset?

  “Let’s start at the top—FWPD Formal Station Adjustment.”

  Joy scooted her chair close to the table and set down the document.

  Andrew picked up his copy and studied it. Gloria pretended to do the same but flitted looks between Joy and Nicole.

  “You’ve already gotten off to a good start, here today, by helping with the cleanup. Confessing. Agreeing to the FSA.”

  Was that Joy, nodding? Gloria allowed herself to breathe. Nicole knows her stuff. I should take lessons.

  “It’s right there on the form, if y’all want to follow along.” Nicole held up the paper, pointing to the first paragraph. “Obey all laws and local ordinances. Obey rules and directions of parents/guardians.”

  Gloria scanned the sheet. Boxes to check. Rules. Joy won’t even make her bed; she’s suddenly going to comply with this?

  “Attend school and remain in good standing. No contact with—” Nicole penciled something on her form. “We’ll talk about that later, Joy, in our one-on-one.”

  The creep for whom she’s wearing the negligee? The one who talked her into scrawling graffiti on the school wall? Who taught her cuss words? The one without a name, a face—at least for us? Gloria held her breath so questions wouldn’t spew all over the room. There’d be time for questions later. After she, Andrew—Kai? Yes. Kai.—talked.

  Joy quirked an eyebrow. “One-on-one?”

  “Every week. Right here. You and me.” Nicole scribbled on her paper. “Or at— You go to Paschal, don’t you?”

  “We’ll bring you over, Joy. It’s no problem,” shot out of Gloria.

  Andrew squeezed her hand, a not-so-subtle warning.

  Regret immediately pummeled Gloria. Too often she’d butted in when she shouldn’t. Perhaps Nicole can meet one-on-one with me.

  “Anyway, it’s all there. Restitution. A letter of apology. Community service.”

  “Community service? Like . . . what?”

  With her finger, Nicole traced the table edge. “Hmm. In your case, maybe the H
arris welcome center.”

  Joy sat straight. “You mean the hospital?”

  “Yeah. You’d probably start at the front desk. If things go well, you’ll walk the wards. Deliver flowers.”

  “Hmm.” Joy’s leg swing belied the noncommittal utterance.

  Gloria blinked. The medical thing. Again. And you didn’t have a clue. After today, why should that surprise her?

  Nicole unfastened her form from the clipboard, scribbled, and passed it to Andrew, who signed and handed it to Gloria.

  Parent/Guardian__________________________________ Date: ________________

  Parent. Not caretaker. Not prodder. Parent. Gloria grasped the pen as if it were a lifeline to Joy. Can a FWPD form signal a new start? Not just for Joy, but for me? Gloria signed the form, dated it, and prayed with all her might that it would be so.

  Joy took the document. Scrutinized it. Gloria kneaded her knuckles. She has no option; it’s clear to us adults. But is it clear to Joy?

  Joy lifted her head. Set down the pen. “Is this what you want me to do?” Her voice had thinned, as if she were no longer sure of herself.

  Andrew leaned forward. “Well, hon, sure. I mean, think what a record would do to your future.”

  “Joy, you have a future.” Nicole’s perkiness returned. “I talked to your advisor before mayhem descended. The only thing keeping you off the honor roll is your absences.” A leg swing erupted. “Nip that in the bud, and there’s no tellin’ what you can do.”

  “Do you agree with that?” Joy’s gaze penetrated Gloria, searching. . . .

  For what? Understanding of me? From me? What I don’t know about Joy would fill every file in this room.

  “I . . .” Gloria pursed her lips, not sure what to say. But this wasn’t a trick question. “Yes, Joy.” She twisted her ring, oddly afraid to meet the gaze of her own daughter. “I think you should sign it,” she told her lap.

  “Then y’all will do your part?” Joy asked.

  “Of course.” Andrew smoothed into his preacher’s groove. “We’ll get you to counseling. Mom said—”