by Anel Viz
* * * *
Eric's story convinced him that he hadn't exaggerated, and Scott could see that things were coming to a head. He was sure he'd have wanted to intervene if his own kids had been involved, but knowing the law as he did, he'd have thought better of it.
"I sympathize with you, I really do," he explained. "Believe me, I don't like what she's doing. I have a good friend who's gay. But if you want to keep the kids—and that's really what this is about, isn't it?—I think we need to find other grounds for the divorce. For the time being your main concern is getting them back here. We might try the argument that school will be starting soon, though I don't see what would prevent them from attending school in Georgia."
"Liv's been talking about home schooling."
"Then scrap that. Home schooling is all the rage nowadays. Do you think she's qualified?"
"No, and you know why."
"Not a good why for our purposes. You say the kids, the boy especially, sound disturbed?"
"The girls are pretty confused too. I get the feeling Liv's keeping something from me."
"You might ask, as a concerned father, to have them evaluated by a child psychologist. But not a word about your wife's homophobia. Say you're worried they're having trouble adjusting to their new environment, or that they've expressed anxiety over the separation; that it must seem to them that you and your wife have split."
"That doesn't address the issue," Eric grumbled.
"Think of it as a stopgap measure. We can't afford to address the real issue. You have to face the facts."
"I can't believe this is happening, Scott. It's overwhelming. I never thought I could care so much about something like this."
"Have you thought of counseling for yourself?"
"Do you think I need it? It's Liv who's gone off the deep end. When you get right down to it, I'm proud this matters to me as much as it does. And you know why? It's because the real issue isn't the gay thing. What's at stake here is the kind of people my kids'll grow up to be."
"So, you see, it is a problem for you. I meant marriage counseling, though. Have you thought about going down there and seeing a marriage counselor? Just make sure to keep the focus on not breaking up the family."
"Liv will bring up the gay thing."
"Then say you don't care about it one way or the other, you're just hurt that she doesn't put her family first. Point out how she's not needed there. Say you feel rejected. That's true, isn't it? It might get her to come home. And once she's here you may be able to work things out."
Eric sighed. "Okay, I'll give it a shot."
"I think you should. Why be stubborn when there's so much at stake?"
Bill Enslik
Eric's intuition was right; Liv had been holding something back from him. It hadn't been the first time their son had wet the bed. He'd done it every night for… how long? When had it started? About the time Ronnie reappeared in Evan Marker's office, wasn't it?
If something was disturbing Li'l Eric, the sooner she found out, the better. She'd noticed other signs as well. He whimpered in his sleep. He'd begun clinging to her. He hadn't made friends with the other children and had stopped going outside to play with them when Sunday meeting went on too long and the kids got antsy. Instead he sat close to her, his eyes fixed on the preacher, listening to things he couldn't possibly understand. He seemed withdrawn. He stayed home all day and played quietly by himself. He'd become less talkative and would go for hours on end without saying a word. Luckily, he opened up a little more when his father was on the phone.
"Wouldn't you like to go outside and run around the yard with Rags?" Liv asked. "It's such a nice day!"
He shook his head.
She put her arm around him. "Why not, angel? Is something the matter?"
He turned away.
"Fresh air is good for you, you know."
He shook his head. "I'm having fun here."
"But you used to like going outside."
"I'm scared."
"Scared? Scared of what, sweetheart?"
"Of being touched."
Her body froze. She forced herself to look natural. "Like this?" she asked. Her arm was still around him.
"Somewhere nasty."
"Has somebody touched you?"
He didn't move. "Who was it? You can tell Mommy."
No reaction. "Was it one of the kids at church?"
He shook his head. "A grownup?" She could barely see his nod.
"Did he hurt you?"
He shook his head no. So it was a man!
He wouldn't look at her. She knew better than to press him. They'd find out who soon enough.
"We'll talk about it later, shall we? That will give you time to think about what you want to tell Mommy."
* * * *
She called Eric at work. "He hasn't said what happened. As far as I can tell, the man only fondled him. That's traumatic enough. I ought to know."
"Did he say who did it?"
"No. He didn't want to talk about it, and I was afraid of upsetting him more. But I'm sure it was one of those men. Who else could it be?"
"It could've been anyone, Liv. I have no idea who he's been with. Has he been alone with them?"
"We haven't been over to the house since I finished packing, but still—"
"You called the police?"
"Right away. They said I shouldn't say anything to him about it. They want a social worker to question him, a child psychologist, someone who knows how to get children to open up about these things. Oh, Eric—do you think they're right?"
"You'd best listen to them."
"You're coming down?"
"I'll be there tomorrow," he said, "or the morning after at the latest if I have trouble getting a flight. No—tomorrow. If I can't get to Atlanta, I'll fly to Nashville… or to New Orleans… as close as I can get… and rent a car." Then he hung up.
After he hung up, he wondered, "What did she mean by that?—'I ought to know'."
Eric brushed the thought aside and promptly forgot about it. He had too many other things on his mind, too much to take care of. "First thing, I have to tell Harvey," he thought. "He'll find me a flight. And then call Ballard."
* * * *
She was on Daddy's lap again, her head on his chest, in the rocking chair where they used to sit. "You've gotten so much heavier, Princess," he cooed. "You're a big girl now."
She opened her eyes to look at him, and saw that the rocking chair wasn't on the porch where it belonged. They were sitting around the table in Evan Marker's conference room. The three lawyers were talking softly together by the window, looking at the will. They paid her no attention, but the four men across the table stared intently at them, their hands in their laps, smirking, menacing. Through the table she could see their knees brush against each other.
They rocked slowly back and forth.
They were all in on it, the four of them together. Ronnie had put them up to it. He drew his tongue slowly across his upper lip.
"Ronnie's grinning at us," she whispered.
The lump twitched beneath her. "Let him. He's just jealous. He's nothing to us, Princess; he's gone plumb out of our lives. Tell him to go away and leave us alone."
"Listen to him, Livvie," Ronnie said. "Tell me."
She didn't answer him.
"Tell me," he repeated.
"You saw," she said.
"I saw."
"You saw and you didn't tell."
"I told."
"Who?"
"Him. Why so angry, sister? Did you tell anyone?"
"Faggot!" she screamed. "Faggot! Faggot!" Her voice rang out in two discordant pitches, alto and bass. Like church bells, it hung quivering in the air.
Startled, the lawyers turned toward her.
"Are you going to let this happen?" she asked. "Now that you've seen, aren't you going to do anything to stop him?"
The lawyers looked puzzled.
"See what?" Ronnie asked sarcastically. He turned and
asked the men next to him, "Do you guys see anything?"
"Nobody ever sees," Jay said quietly.
Daddy was gone and everybody was staring at her. She wanted to get up from the rocker and run away, but however hard she struggled, something held her there in an iron grip.
"Faggots!" she screamed at them in her own voice. "Faggots!"
The scream hadn't woken the children. She went up to the kitchen and made a cup of tea.
Jessie joined her.
"Oh, it's you! I thought I heard somebody moving around in here. What are you doing up so late?"
Liv told her what had happened to Li'l Eric.
Jessie gave her a hug. "How terribly awful! You've told your husband?"
"He's coming tomorrow. I'm afraid he wants to take my children away from me."
"Take them away? What makes you say that?"
"He's been talking about bringing them back to Idaho."
"Of course he has! He misses them! That isn't taking them away, honey; they live there. But children this little belong with their mother."
Part IV: Priorities
Janice
Cameron was going back to Macon. He'd had himself genetically tested and his DNA matched Liv's, establishing with over ninety-nine percent certainty that they were full siblings. As if that weren't enough, he had also managed to dig up some other documents that proved he was Cameron Enslik. So he wasn't afraid this time, but Ed still insisted on coming along.
"You don't have to, you know," Cameron told him. "I'll only be there a day. Two at most."
"You don't need to be there either. You can overnight the stuff to Caille. You're just making an extra trip for her."
"She'd have to go there anyway to bring it. Besides, I want to be there in person. You never know what more they'll want. There's no reason for you to go too."
"I won't be bored. I can spend time with Jay and Baron while you're at the courthouse or wherever it is you have to go." Cameron would be staying with them this time. Liv had finished putting everything into boxes and no longer came by. "I also thought I could meet with the people in Atlanta who're making plans for the house. You said I could handle that aspect of it."
"Who will be making plans. No one's doing anything until they know we'll get it. There's nothing you can do there that can't be done by email."
Making plans for the house was an excuse, and they both knew it. Sure, Ed was excited about the house, but if he wanted to be with him it was just to give him moral support. Cameron didn't need it. He was calm and determined. He'd seen his sister and lived through it. In fact, it had been easy, so easy that he actually looked forward to staying with Jay and Baron right next door to where he'd grown up. He didn't care if Liv showed up or not. If she had problems with that, too bad for her.
Oddly enough, Ed's reunion with his brother that he'd so looked forward to had been harder on Ed than Cameron's reunion with his sister, which he'd dreaded, had been on him.
Tim had come to Boston with his wife and daughter almost as soon as they got back. The brothers had gone to hug each other, and the second Tim's arms were around him Ed broke down and started crying. At first they took it for tears of joy, but his crying quickly turned to sobs and he couldn't control his breathing. He weakly separated himself from Tim and stumbled to the sofa. Shaking, he signaled with his hands that no one should go near him, that he didn't want to be touched. Then he fell over onto his side and buried his face in the cushions.
Tim was at a loss. He stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds, trying to take it all in, and finally asked, "What's happening?"
Cameron ought to have known, but didn't. Tim's wife, Janice, had to explain the situation. "He's letting it all out," she said. "The kid inside him is reliving it. It won't last long."
"Maybe I should pour him a drink," Cameron suggested, heading for the dining room table, where they'd laid out some snacks for their guests.
"A drink is the last thing he needs. Show me which way to the kitchen and tell me where you keep the tea. You come too, Tim. He needs to be alone right now."
Their daughter, who'd started on the crackers, had stopped chewing when Ed broke down. "Why he crying, Mommy?" she asked.
"Grown-ups cry sometimes, too, honey. Come help me and Daddy. You can bring the crackers with you. Are they good crackers?"
Cameron was going to follow, but Janice said, "No. You stay with him."
She was a rock. So sure of herself, so efficient, and so young, too. Only in her twenties. She reminded him a little of Marc, the director of the safe home, unflappable in a crisis. But Marc had years of experience, and crises must be second nature to him by now. That rare ability Marc had to care deeply about someone's pain and communicate that caring without getting upset, he could see Tim's wife—Ed's sister-in-law—had it too. That is, at least not showing that they were upset. Liv got upset, but was cold as ice.
He went and sat on the sofa and put his arms around Ed. Ed made a feeble attempt to pull away, then let himself be lifted and cried in his arms. The sobs were starting to subside. In a little while he'd be himself again.
He didn't think he'd have reacted like Ed if Liv had been like Tim and glad to see him. At most he'd have shaken her hand and they'd have exchanged a few polite words. They hadn't been close as children. She was so much younger and her father's favorite—Princess, he used to call her—while he could remember nothing but coldness from the man. The man, that's how he thought about him, not as his father. His mother was different. He loved her, but she'd belonged to her husband's world, and Cameron couldn't find a place in it.
Ed had stopped crying. He sniffed and swallowed as he wiped his eyes with the ball of his palm. Cameron asked if he should get him a tissue, but he shook his head and pressed against him harder, wanting to be held.
"Your sister-in-law is terrific," Cameron murmured. "She understands a lot. Pretty, too. I think she's pregnant. It barely shows, but I think she is. Your Timmo's a lucky man. He's lucky to have you, too."
Ed swallowed. "Where are they?"
"In the kitchen, making tea."
"Still? How long does it take to make tea?"
"Oh, I'm sure it's all ready. They're just waiting until you're okay."
"God, what must they think of me? To come all this way, and then I go and make a scene."
"I'm sure they understand."
"I was happy, you know. And then suddenly there was all this pain inside me and everything started hurting."
"I know."
Ed stood up. "Well, I'd better let them see I'm better now," he said, and headed toward the kitchen.
Elliot Cannon
When the phone rang, Liv assumed it was either her husband or the police. The last person she expected to hear from was Christian Worthy.
"We have a court date for tomorrow at one," he said. "Judge Cole again."
Of all times to schedule the hearing! "Do you think you can have it postponed?" she asked.
"You want to postpone the hearing? Why? You've been on pins and needles for weeks waiting for it. But this isn't for the hearing; it's something else. I assumed you would know what it's about."
"Nobody's told me anything, but I'm glad it's nothing that important since I might not be able to make it. I may have to go to the police station."
"What for?"
She told him.
"Oh, Mrs. Redding, I'm so very sorry! You must be devastated."
"I'll be all right. It's my boy I'm worried about. The police have been very supportive. They've already hauled some men in for questioning. It seems it takes an actual crime to get any action around here."
Worthy ignored the dig, so she went on. "But I may not be able to make court."
"That shouldn't be a problem since the police station is next door. They'd probably excuse you for a while to honor the subpoena."
"I've been subpoenaed?"
"Didn't you get it?"
"Maybe they left it at the hotel desk. Don't they know we're
staying with the Heymers?"
"They wouldn't have left it anywhere. They're required to give it to you personally."
"Why would I be subpoenaed? And how do you know about it when I don't?"
"Oh, I hear things. I don't know what it's about, but I wouldn't worry about it. That's just what it's called when you're asked to appear in court. It doesn't mean you've been charged with anything. As I was about to say, if you're not there I'll explain your situation to the judge. I'm sure he'll understand."
Liv tried calling her husband the second she got off the phone, but he must have already been in the air on his way to Georgia.
* * * *
On Ballard's advice, Eric put off filing the divorce papers until his return so as not to give his wife grounds to contest his decision to bring the kids back to Idaho. With the help of his lawyer and the local Child Protection Agency, it had taken Eric just a little over two hours to have a petition filed in Macon allowing him to take them. He did it all by phone and fax. Ballard also put him in touch with a colleague in Macon, Elliot Cannon, to represent him so the temporary transfer of custody would go smoothly.
"The only obstacle I foresee," Cannon had told him, "is that the police will want to keep the boy in Georgia for as part of their investigation. They won't interview him themselves, of course, in case it intimidates the kid. They'll get a social worker to do it."
"The only obstacle?" Eric said dubiously. "You obviously don't know my wife. She'll put her heart and soul to keep this from happening. She'll hang on to them as tenaciously as she's hanging on to that house."
"Not more so?" Cannon inquired, a friendly challenge in his look. It was clear he assumed Eric was exaggerating.
Eric's shoulders slumped, and a pained expression crossed his face. "I honestly don't know," he said. "It seems she's put that goddamn house before all of us. It's one reason I'm doing what I'm doing."
"Then I wouldn't let her know my intentions if I were you. You're not required to, so why tempt fate? Present her with a fait accompli. A transfer of custody to one of two parents when they're not living together on a temporary basis isn't exactly routine, but it should go forward without a hitch."
