Sister's Forgiveness

by Anna Schmidt

  Jeannie relaxed a little. This was the Hester that everyone knew and admired. She was a woman always looking at her surroundings and thinking about ways to make things better. “Okay, I’m listening. What’s the new program?”

  “Actually, it isn’t all that new,” Rachel said. “At least not in some communities.”

  “It’s called VORP,” Hester interrupted.

  “Which stands for…?”

  “Victim Offender Reconciliation Program,” Hester replied, her eyes locked on Jeannie’s. “Rachel’s husband was killed by a drunk driver.”

  “At first,” Rachel said, picking up the story, “I didn’t know what to do, how to react. I was so angry and devastated, and our son was really at a loss. He and his father did everything together.”

  “What happened?” Jeannie’s mouth had suddenly gone dry.

  “The driver was a young man, out of work, with two small children of his own. He’d hit rock bottom and started drinking early one afternoon and kept it up. Then he got into his truck, and on his way home, he crossed over the median and struck my husband’s car.”

  When tears welled in Rachel’s eyes, Jeannie reached over and squeezed her hand. “I know,” she whispered. “I understand.”

  “Sorry,” Rachel murmured. “Anyway, we were in the midst of the trial when I read something about VORP, and I thought maybe it could work. Maybe it would be a way for Justin—and me—to find some peace with this senseless loss.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I contacted the organization, and they sent out a mediator to talk with me and with Justin. There were several steps along the way, but the upshot was that eventually we sat down with the young man. We met his wife and his children. It’s a complex program, but in the end we came up with a contract—things that Justin and I asked the young man to do for us and himself and his family. He still went to jail, but he’s following through on his end of things, and I think he’s going to be all right.”

  He’s going to be all right? What about you and your son? Jeannie wanted to ask.

  And then as if reading Jeannie’s mind, Rachel added, “And we’re going to be all right as well. We’re starting fresh—new job for me, new school for Justin.” She looked away for a minute, gathering her memories. “Going through the program allowed us both to talk openly about how much we were hurting to the very person whose action had brought us that pain.”

  “Think about it, Jeannie,” Hester said. “If we could get the justice system here in Sarasota to hear us out, it could be a way to help Sadie.”

  “Who’s Sadie?” Rachel asked. Jeannie knew by her expression that she genuinely was unaware of the circumstances that had taken over her life and the lives of all of her family.

  “Jeannie? Is it okay?” Hester asked, seeking permission to tell her friend what had happened. “I’m sorry. Sadie’s name just popped out. Is it okay if…”

  Jeannie shrugged and picked up their mugs. “Sure. Go ahead. I’ll get refills for you.”

  “And you,” Hester urged, “you’ll come back and sit with us so we can talk, right?”

  “I’ll come back, but, Hester, I’m making no promises.”

  “None expected. Hearing us out is huge. I appreciate that. Thanks.”

  Inside the coffee shop, Jeannie took her time getting the refills. She did not want to be present for any part of the recounting of the accident that had taken Tessa’s life and landed Sadie in jail. She could see Rachel and Hester through the window of the shop. Rachel was facing her, and Jeannie knew the exact moment that Hester must have given her the news.

  She put her fist to her mouth and just sat there staring at Hester and shaking her head, as if by denying what she was hearing she might change the story. Jeannie recognized that reaction. It was a milder version of the one she had experienced when Dr. Morris told her that Tessa had died on the operating table.

  Here was a woman who had experienced firsthand the kind of loss that Jeannie and Geoff had. Jeannie thought about how Geoff was so certain that if he could just testify, things would be better—at least for them. But what if what they both really needed was to speak out for themselves instead of against Sadie? She picked up the refilled mugs and returned to the table outside.

  “So now that you know my story, can you honestly tell me that this VORP or any program like it can possibly make any difference at all?” Her words were laced with skepticism.

  “It won’t bring your daughter back, Jeannie. But I really do believe—in fact, I know from our experience—that if you and others who have been victimized by this horror are willing to try, it could be a new beginning.”

  “For Sadie?”

  “For her,” Rachel agreed, “and for you and your sister and your husband if they are willing to take part.”

  Jeannie released a bitter laugh and stood up, prepared to leave. “Wow, sounds wonderful. Where do I sign up?”

  Hester frowned and glanced nervously at her friend, but Rachel just nodded. “I know it sounds like some kind of magic pill, but Jeannie, the program does work.” She pulled Jeannie’s chair a bit closer to her and patted the empty seat. “Will you let me explain?”

  Jeannie hesitated for a moment then perched on the edge of the chair and waited for Rachel to regale her with stories of past successes—victims who had embraced their offenders and forgiven them wholeheartedly. But she was not at all prepared for Rachel’s opening question.

  “Jeannie, knowing that Tessa can’t come back to you, what is the single most important and positive thing that you would want to come of the event that took your child’s life?”

  Images of Geoff, then Emma, then Sadie flitted across Jeannie’s mind. Memories of Geoff and Matt tossing a football back and forth, of making marmalade with Emma and the girls in their large modern kitchen, of shopping with Sadie because both Emma and Tessa detested shopping. Memories of better times—times when they had laughed together and worked toward the same goals together and prayed together.

  “Jeannie?” Hester said, covering Jeannie’s hand with hers. “Are you all right?”

  Jeannie realized that tears were sliding down her cheeks. She swiped them away with the back of her hand and looked at Rachel. “I want our lives back—the way things were before. I know it will be without Tessa, but surely for those of us left behind, we could find our way back to some semblance of the love and caring we shared before.”

  And having said it aloud, she realized that this was what she had been wrestling with through all the long days and nights since the accident. How could they be a family again?

  “I know,” Rachel said. “That’s exactly what I wanted, for my son and me.”

  “Do you really think that you can help us?” Jeannie asked.

  “I’ll do my best,” Rachel promised then hesitated a moment before adding, “Hester mentioned that you were thinking of visiting your niece. You might want to postpone that, Jeannie. My guess is that she won’t be able to handle your visit—and more to the point, in my experience you’re not quite ready for that meeting yet either.”

  Chapter 28

  Emma

  On Friday evening the family had just finished saying grace when someone knocked on the front door.

  “I’ll get it,” Matt said and was up from the kitchen table and on his way to the front door before Lars or Emma could stop him. They heard the muffled exchange of male voices, and then Matt was back, followed by Joseph Cotter.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your supper,” he said.

  “Not at all. Join us,” Lars invited at the same moment that Emma got up to set another place.

  “We have plenty.”

  Joseph sat down in the fourth chair at the table—Sadie’s chair. There was a heartbeat when Emma, Lars, and Matt all looked at each other, but they said nothing.

  “I have sweet tea and lemonade,” Emma offered.

  “Lemonade is fine,” Joseph replied as he waited for her to set his place and bring his beverage. When
Emma sat down and Lars began passing him dishes of the shrimp, rice, vegetables, and rolls that Emma had prepared, Joseph filled his plate. Then he smiled. “It’s been awhile since I enjoyed a true home-cooked meal,” he said. “Thank you.”

  When the young attorney started eating without first saying a silent prayer, Emma shot Matt a look that warned him not to make the comment that she could see coming. Matt rolled his eyes and went back to pushing food around his plate.

  It occurred to Emma that lately their son had changed. For one thing, ever since he’d heard that Uncle Geoff had been in court to testify against Sadie, he had been quiet at mealtimes, no longer regaling them with sports facts. More often than not, he ate in silence and then excused himself, mumbling something about a quiz or homework. It was understandable, of course, given everything going on with Sadie and the break with Geoff and Jeannie. Still, she and Lars needed to remember that Matt needed them more than ever now. She resolved to speak to Lars about it later after Matt had gone to bed.

  “Your friend Hester Steiner stopped by my office earlier today,” Joseph said.

  Lars looked at Emma but said nothing.

  “She has this college friend—Rachel something-or-other. Anyway, her friend is a trained grief counselor, but more to the point, her husband was killed by a drunk driver a little over a year ago. I got to thinking that if you approved, it might be good to have her visit Sadie. After what happened in court yesterday, it’s pretty clear that Sadie has reached her breaking point.”

  “Sadie wasn’t a drunk driver, and besides, I don’t understand why Hester would come to you before talking to us,” Emma said.

  Joseph ate another bite of his supper and took his time chewing and swallowing.

  “Matt, if you’re finished, you may be excused,” Lars said.

  Joseph cleared his throat. “Actually, you might want Matt to hear about this,” he said quietly.

  For the first time in days, Matt seemed interested in what was going on around him. He sat up a little straighter and focused his attention on Joseph.

  “What is it that you’ve come to tell us, Joseph?” Lars asked. Emma felt the now-familiar tightening of her chest and throat.

  “This friend of Mrs. Steiner’s—Kaufmann—that’s the name.”

  “She’s Mennonite?”

  Joseph nodded. “By her dress, I’d say she’s conservative like you. She apparently has moved here from Ohio to take the chaplaincy at that new hospital just east of here.”

  “What’s that?” Matt asked.

  “Ministers at the hospital—trained people of various faiths who are there if needed for patients and their families,” Lars explained. Then he turned his attention back to Joseph. “Go on.”

  “So, Ms. Kaufmann’s husband died, leaving her to raise their son, Justin, on her own.” Joseph glanced at Matt. “I think the boy is a year or so younger than you are.”

  “Why move here?” Matt asked.

  “Good question. Apparently she lost her job a few months after her husband died, and Hester suggested she look for work here. But the key thing is that after her husband was killed, she took part in a program that’s had some real success in cases like Sadie’s.”

  Emma’s heart beat faster. “She can help keep Sadie from going away?”

  Joseph shook his head as he took a long drink of his lemonade. “She can’t influence the court proceedings—at least not directly.”

  “So, what can she do?” Lars asked quietly, his disappointment obvious.

  “Back in Ohio, she and her son took part in a program called VORP—Victim Offender Reconciliation Program.” Joseph waited a beat to allow that to sink in then continued. “It’s a program where the victim of a crime—or in many cases like yours, it would be victims—and the offender meet directly.”

  “How can there be more than one victim?” Matt asked. “Tessa was the only one who died.”

  Joseph looked at him for a long moment, and then he said, “You’re a victim in this, Matt. So are Tessa’s parents and your parents and grandparents and even Sadie.”

  Matt’s face went nearly purple with anger as he shook his head. “Sadie’s the one that caused this whole mess—she’s the one that—”

  “Matt,” Emma scolded. Her son looked at her with such fury, such frustration that it took her breath away.

  “I’d like to be excused,” he mumbled already half out of his chair.

  “Sich hinsetzen,” Lars said quietly, pointing to Matt’s chair. “We have a guest.”

  “But you said before…,” Matt protested, and then he slumped back into his chair and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to look at either parent.

  “Go on, Joseph,” Lars said.

  Emma saw that Joseph was decidedly uncomfortable with the dynamics around the table. “Would you like more shrimp, Joseph? Or perhaps a slice of raisin pie?”

  Joseph gave her a grateful and relieved smile. “It’s been years since I tasted raisin pie,” he admitted. “But let me help you clear.”

  “Matt will do that,” Lars said.

  Matt looked at his father and then got up and began clearing the dishes. “This is Sadie’s job,” Emma heard him mutter as he passed her with the stacked plates. She picked up the serving dishes and followed him to the sink.

  “Matt? Has something happened at school that you haven’t wanted to tell us?” She kept her voice low, mindful that Joseph was close by, although he and Lars were talking. But company or not, Matt was not himself.

  Matt filled the sink with soapy water and laid the plates in it to soak. “I’m okay.”

  “Because I want you to understand that Dad and I realize that everything going on these last weeks has been hard on you as well as the rest of us. You can talk to us anytime about anything. It’s just that right now Mr. Cotter is here, and he might be able to help your sister and—”

  “And that’s what matters right now,” Matt said. “I get it, Mom.” He shut off the water while she took down plates for the pie.

  “Helping Sadie can help us all,” Emma said quietly. Then when Matt made no comment, she handed him the clean plates. “Take these to the table, bitte. Coffee, Joseph?” she called out in what she had intended as a normal tone but realized was too shrill and tight with tension.

  “No ma’am. The lemonade is fine,” Joseph said.

  At the table, Emma cut slices of the pie and passed the first slice to Joseph. He waited for everyone to be served and for her to be seated before taking a bite. He was a well-mannered young man even if he had started his meal without first thanking God.

  “Wow,” he said after tasting the pie. “That is seriously great pie.”

  In spite of her faith’s caution when it came to accepting compliments, Emma fought back the first genuine smile she’d managed in days. “Danke, Joseph.”

  “I mean, help me out here, Matt. This whipped cream topping tastes more like.…” He frowned as he savored a bite of the topping.

  “Marshmallows?” Matt said wearily. It was true that people unfamiliar with their whipped cream often described the flavor that way, but Emma did not like the way Matt was acting.

  “That’s it exactly,” Joseph replied. He watched Matt for a minute, and Emma understood that the attorney had somehow realized that Matt was struggling to find his place in everything that had happened to their family. “Hey, Matt, Mrs. Steiner tells me that you’re some kind of statistics genius.”

  Matt glanced up from eating his pie, his eyes interested but still wary. “She said that?”

  “She did. When Rachel started rattling off the statistics about the VORP program’s success rate, Hester said you were the one with a head for stats. Is that right?”

  Matt shrugged. “Sports stats mostly.”

  “Stats are stats,” Joseph observed and went on eating his pie. “Marshmallows,” he repeated, nodding as he took another bite of the whipped cream.

  Matt fought to hide his smile, clearly beginning to feel a connection to
Joseph.

  “I’m not a hundred percent clear on the details, but after Mrs. Kaufmann and her son participated in the program, she trained to become a mediator for other cases.”

  “She would be there if Sadie sat down with Jeannie and Geoff?” Lars asked, drawing the lawyer’s attention back to the adults.

  “Actually, that’s only the first piece.”

  “What else?” Emma asked.

  “The idea is to personalize the crime for the offender by showing them the human consequences of their actions.”

  “I think our Sadie is very aware of the human consequences of her action, Joseph. She grieves every hour for this terrible tragedy.” Emma tried to keep her voice calm. The last thing she wanted to hear about was one more process that would only add to the suffering Sadie was already enduring.

  “Well, the idea is to give the victims—those who often never have a chance to speak their piece in the criminal justice system—the opportunity to talk about their feelings directly to the offender.”

  “It is not our way to involve ourselves in such things, Joseph,” Lars said, glancing at Emma. His tone reflected his doubt and discomfort. He had already gone well beyond what he believed to be the way to handle Sadie’s troubles by agreeing to hire Joseph. Now this?

  “And yet people of your faith are some of the strongest advocates for the program in communities where it has been used,” Joseph said.

  Emma saw Matt gauge the mood and decide that once again he needed to break the silence. “You said there were statistics?” Matt prompted, fully engaged now.

  Joseph focused his attention back on Matt. “The program in one form or another dates back two decades, and there are now thousands of such programs operating around the world.”

  “Around the world—you mean in other countries,” Emma said unable to disguise her skepticism.

  “And here as well. There’s more,” Joseph said softly. Emma could see that her husband and son were being drawn into Joseph’s presentation, but she wasn’t interested in what others had done. She was only interested in how she could best protect her daughter. And she had her doubts that some stranger—whether or not she was an old college friend of Hester’s—could ever hope to know Sadie or Jeannie or any of them well enough to make this work.