Accepting Elijah's Heart

by M. Michelle Derosier

  The dam holding back Reina’s tears broke. She grabbed Nate and held on fiercely. She responded to the Montdesirs in Creole.

  “I love my son. He’s my life,” she finished in English so that everyone else would understand.

  Officer Miller, his hatred not giving an inch, replied with venom, “We can’t take your word for it, can we?”

  Even his officers recoiled at his harsh tone.

  Eli touched her arm. He was trying to control it, but she could sense he was tense.

  “The social worker from children’s services will be here soon. Officer Connelly, show Mr. and Mrs. Montdesir to the interview room. Officer Morrison, take the baby from Mrs. Blackwell.”

  So many voices screamed “no!” in unison it was hard to tell who objected first.

  Reina steeled her voice. “You can arrest me now because I’m not letting go of Nate ever again.”

  “Sir,” Officer Connelly spoke up, “she’s not going anywhere with this many eyes watching. Why can’t the child stay with her?”

  Anger pulsated off Officer Miller. He looked around at the sets of accusing eyes staring daggers at him. “Fine.” He pointed to a corner. “But she stays there and doesn’t move from that seat with him.”

  Reina, who was holding on to Nate with the fierceness of a lioness protecting her cub, didn’t spare Officer Miller the anger he deserved. She would file an official complaint later. All she cared about right now was hugging Nate. Loving him. Telling him how sorry she was for her mistake. Begging his forgiveness. Reassuring him they would never again be separated.

  Officer Miller stormed away from the group and the rest of the officers disbursed quietly, following his orders.

  “Unhealthy or not, I am going to surgically join us at the hip and not let you free until your 65th birthday,” she sobbed to Nathaniel. Settled down since being placed in her arms, Nathaniel rewarded her with one of those toothless grins that never failed to brighten her day. I couldn’t survive losing one more person I love. Feeling guilty for thinking it, she instead concentrated on God finally answering a prayer that mattered to her.

  Eli gently maneuvered Reina and Nate to the corner. He grabbed two chairs and brought them over.

  “That’s about as comfortable as they get,” he told her.

  “These things will kill your back,” Officer Morrison said, approaching them with two cushioned chairs, one under each arm. “These seats should be a little better.”

  Officer Connelly followed with the diaper bag Reina had brought with her from home and the one left in the cab. In the other hand she held two bottles of water and some snacks from the vending machine. She handed them to Eli while Reina was busy with Nate.

  “Not exactly a gourmet dinner.” She grinned.

  The officers walked away before Eli and Reina could offer thanks.

  “What if the social worker doesn’t believe it was an accident?” Reina worried aloud. “If she says this was neglect, I could lose Nate.” If possible, she hugged the baby tighter. “I can’t lose Nate again.”

  “Nate’s with you now. Focus on that,” Eli responded. “Everything else will work itself out.”

  Reina longed to believe this stranger who’d somehow turned into her emotional rock.

  “Miller doesn’t matter. We have more important things to focus on.” Eli turned to her, his tone serious. “Nate and I need a formal introduction.”

  Reina chuckled at the unexpected statement. “You know. You’re right.” She maneuvered Nate to face Eli. “Eli, I’d like to introduce you to Nathaniel Jared Blackwell. You may call him Nate.”

  Nate, who was happily sucking on a pacifier, barely glanced Eli’s way.

  “Good to meet you, Nate,” Eli responded and pretended to shake the baby’s hand.

  Eli’s voice, commanding but comforting, drew Nate’s curiosity.

  “Lauren’s going to be so jealous. She can never get his attention when he’s sucking on that binky.”

  “Lauren?”

  “Yes. Nate’s godmother,” Reina responded. “Oh my God, Lauren!” She jumped up, causing Nate to drop his pacifier. Eli moved with speed to pick it up.

  “Is there someplace I can wash this off?” he asked the first officer in sight. Unfortunately, that turned out to be Miller.

  “We don’t have maid service at this police station.”

  She worried when Eli balled his right hand into a fist and quietly exhaled a breath with each finger he uncurled.

  Nate started fussing, tired of waiting for the adults to get it together. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, Nate went from displeased to outright furious with a piercing cry. The adults sprang into action.

  Reina walked the length of the police station, whispering soothing words to Nate.

  “I’ll clean it,” said Officer Morrison, who curved around Officer Miller, yanked the pacifier from Eli’s hand, and ran into the visitor bathroom across from the center desk in the station.

  Nate’s cries grew louder, like a hurricane picking up speed.

  Officer Morrison came barreling out the room with Nate’s pacifier, waving it like a white flag. Too late. Nate was beyond making peace. He wailed between each strained breath. A curious mix of tears and snot pooled in the vertical groove between the base of his nose and the border of his upper lip.

  His cries dominated the police station.

  “Can’t you take care of your child?” screamed Officer Miller, above the noise. “Makes sense you would abandon your baby. What kind of mother are you?”

  “Here,” Officer Morrison handed Eli the pacifier, “try again with this.”

  Nate kept crying. Reina continued struggling to calm him. Mr. and Mrs. Montdesir, who had come out of the interview room, formed a protective semi-circle around them.

  Eli joined the Montdesirs in protecting Reina and Nate. He patted the baby’s back and gently squeezed Reina’s hand in encouragement.

  Nate didn’t completely quiet down, but they no longer had to strain to hear others talk. They could now hear the noises around the room, which is why they all turned at the sound of the door opening and stared curiously at the stranger who stepped in.

  She stared back and then looked around. She adjusted her skirt slightly, patted down an invisible flyaway from her wavy auburn hair, and touched her face. As if realizing something amiss, she dug into her bag and removed a tissue, and turned away from the prying eyes. The watching crowd could barely make out the sound of her blowing her nose. As she turned around, she pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer from her purse. She placed it back in its pocket after cleaning her hands.

  The stranger walked over to the desk. “Hello, er, hello.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Ms. Weaver.” She handed a badge. “I’m a CPS social worker. I’m looking for Officer Miller.”

  “You came right on time.” Officer Miller smirked.

  Chapter 3

  “Is there some place for the family and I to go speak in private?” Ms. Weaver asked.

  “This way.” He directed her to a vacant room and ordered Mrs. Blackwell to follow.

  That was rude.

  “Do right by this baby and give him to a family who can care for him,” he finished and slammed the door.

  What an aggravating man. Ms. Weaver schooled her face to hide her dislike.

  Dismissing him from her mind, she turned to face Mrs. Blackwell and Nathaniel, who was quietly crying himself to sleep.

  They observed each other in silence.

  Reina sat up straight. Her shoulders pushed back, widening her stance. Her arms nestled Nathaniel, curving him into her body as if still carrying him in the womb. Reina regarded her through eyes marked with deep shadows stained with white. The evidence left on the skin after too many hours of crying. She had a drawn face. And a complexion parched from this station’s unyielding radiators churning out heat in a poorly ventilated building. Her body said fight, but her eyes said exhausted.

  “I’ll tell you as I told Officer Mill
er, we’ll go to war before I let anyone take my son.”

  Ms. Weaver raised both hands slowly, palms up. She leaned forward and dropped her tone to above a hush.

  “My job is not to take Nathaniel away from you. The only thing that matters is for your son to be safe, healthy, and happy.” She paused and gave Reina a moment to accept they were both on Nathaniel’s side. “I have bits and pieces of the story. Please put it together for me. What happened? How did Nathaniel end up lost?”

  Ms. Weaver sat taking notes for the next two hours as she listened to Mrs. Blackwell recount some very frightening moments.

  “Mrs. Blackwell. Thank you. I have everything I need from you.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I’d like to spend some time with your neighbor, Mr. Cooper, and the,” She looked down at her notes, “Montdesirs.”

  “And then?”

  Ms. Weaver heard the cautious tone and saw the slight pull to draw Nate even tighter in her arms. Worry lines etched along Mrs. Blackwell’s forehead and mouth and replaced what would otherwise be subtle laugh lines. Ms. Weaver’s heart went out to them both. It was well past midnight. They should be home resting after this frightful day. Her anger rekindled at Officer Miller for his lack of compassion.

  “As soon as I can wrap up, I’ll make my recommendations.” Officially, she had to hear from the witnesses and ensure nothing was amiss, and that this was truly a horrific mistake and not a matter of neglect.

  Reina nodded and stood up carefully to avoid stirring a sleeping Nate. Ms. Weaver followed her out of the room and called Mr. Cooper in. Half an hour later she repeated the process with Mr. and Mrs. Montdesir.

  At last, she could do what she realized was the right thing moments after getting the full picture. She could send Nathaniel and his mother home and hopefully help ease her fear that she would lose him again.

  “I see nothing that proves neglect. Everything tells me this was an isolated mistake, and that Nathaniel is not in danger from his mother.” Ms. Weaver kept her tone even, deliberately removing the emotion out of her voice. Although she was speaking to Mrs. Blackwell and the officers involved in her case, in her mind the words were for Officer Miller who stood arms crossed and defiant.

  “You’re giving her a pass,” he spat out.

  “Sir,” Ms. Weaver said, continuing to taper her tone, “I’m doing as your team would and basing my decision on evidence. All evidence here points to this being an accident.” If he could hit her, his face said he would. His body visibly tensed, and she struggled not to step back in fear. What a bully. She turned away from him and addressed Mrs. Blackwell, her voice softening. “Mrs. Blackwell, please take your baby home. You’ve been here long enough.” It would be unprofessional to hug her, but Ms. Weaver couldn’t deny wanting to after seeing Mrs. Blackwell’s relief.

  Reina walked out of the interview room with Nate. Eli stood immediately outside the door, with a cautious but hopeful expression.

  “It’s over,” Reina whispered. “We can go home. Nate and I can go home together.”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” Eli muttered.

  He stuffed everything into a diaper bag and helped her bundle Nate back into his winter gear and settle him into the car seat.

  “I’ve already filled Jason in. He’s on his way to pick us up,” Eli told her.

  “Thank you for everything.” Reina hugged Jason when he arrived.

  “Thank me after you see my consulting fee,” he joked. “Alright, let’s head out. This chauffeur offer is only good for another ten minutes.”

  Reina rushed over and hugged Ms. Weaver. She was a tiny woman, more of a girl, Reina realized, now that she could really see her. “Thank you,” she said.

  She did the same with the Montdesirs and officers Morrison and Connelly.

  Officer Miller watched her. His rage and suspicion were palpable. Yet not even his hatred could dampen the joy in the station.

  A patient, amused Eli held the door open as she and Nathaniel exited the precinct.

  “Bundle up,” Eli said.

  She felt an unexpected spark when he gently touched her face and fixed the scarf falling from her neck.

  For the first time in months, Reina spoke more than a few passing words to God. Tonight, she said a prayer full of gratitude and a renewed appreciation for God’s grace.

  “Never underestimate God’s mighty love.” She could hear her mother speak the words as if she was in the room.

  Reina had believed in those words even after her parents’ death, but had lost faith in them when she’d buried Jared. Now, as she stood over Nate’s crib watching him sleep, the part of her heart scared to trust God again begged to hold on to the resurfacing hope. She smiled at Nate and marveled at his even breathing and the soft gurgling on every other breath–as if practicing for a baby-sleep-talking competition.

  Her mind replayed the day’s events, and she shuddered despite the room’s comfortable temperature. She would never forget how close she came to losing this wonderful little human being who now slept so peacefully, unaware of the roller coaster of emotions his mother experienced today. She reflected on the story of Daniel, who had kept his faith while in a sealed pit filled with pacing, roaring lions. A trust God had rewarded when He sent his angel to bind the mouths of the lions to keep Daniel safe. With each moment Nate was missing, she had tried her hardest to recall Daniel’s plight and that of others in the Bible who God had delivered. She had desperately hoped He would do the same for her. That He would reward the flickering spark of faith she had remaining.

  It was Daniel’s story she’d shared with Eli while he’d sat with her at the police station, talking when she needed him to and remaining in comfortable silence when the moment called for it. Thoughts of Elijah M. Cooper, as his license had shown, brought emotions that were not all easily named. Gratitude was one, she was sure. Everything else required peeling layers off a confused bundle of feelings that left her uncomfortable and, strangely, vulnerable. She poked, gently at first, to see what layers she could unveil without exposing too much.

  Surprise. He surprised me. Her mind continued. Who goes out of his way to help and comfort a stranger expecting nothing in return?

  She’d asked that question on the drive back home during their game of Meet Your Neighbor, a not-so-veiled rip-off of Twenty Questions. It had been Eli and Jason’s attempt to distract her from the torrent of emotions she was struggling to get under control.

  Eli had shrugged and answered, “You needed help, so I helped.”

  “That still doesn’t prove you’re not some kind of serial killer whose weapon of choice is kindness,” she’d joked, attempting to diffuse the feeling of warmth that had crept into her heart when he’d confirmed what she thought about him.

  He had tried to keep from laughing, couldn’t, and had given himself up to the laughter that flowed freely. “You make a good point. How can I convince you?”

  “For starters, you could tell me more about yourself. Do you have a middle name?”

  He’d raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Foolproof method of ruling out potential serial killers?”

  She’d made a face, and he’d chuckled softly. Jason had laughed and chimed in, “You’d make an excellent detective.”

  Eli had adjusted his seatbelt, removed a brown wallet from his pocket, and pulled out a worn New York State driver’s license. He’d turned around and handed it to her, shining the light from his phone for her to see.

  “Please note my birthday. I’ll expect a gift.”

  She’d rolled her eyes. “Duly noted.”

  “So, does a thirty-five-year-old man with dark hair and greenish-hazel eyes fit your description of a crazed killer?”

  Her lips had curled into a half-smile. “Not at all. The one with just green eyes does.” Reina had pointed to the corresponding line on his license.

  He’d roared. “It’s not my fault the Department of Motor Vehicles didn’t capture the flecks of hazel and gold my mother claims
to see.”

  “A mother complex.” She’d checked an invisible box. “Boys love their mothers, don’t they?” she’d stated, though not to him in particular.

  Not at all fazed by the sudden shift in mood, he’d comforted her by reminding her Nate was safe and wasn’t going anywhere. “God protected Daniel from a den of hungry lions and brought Nate home unharmed. He’ll keep him home where he belongs.”

  Reina rubbed her tired eyes back to the present.

  After assuring herself once more Nate slept safely in his crib, Reina walked to the living room fatigued but too emotionally wired to sleep. She curled up on the couch and reached for her favorite wedding picture. She watched in her mind’s eye as the scene of the photo replayed like a too-often-viewed favorite movie.

  The dialogue repeated verbatim.

  “Don’t expect to see me in another tie after today.”

  “Like you weren’t supposed to be in one today?”

  She’d pulled Jared in for a kiss and had laughed at the joy in her heart. The photographer had captured the moment immediately after when Jared had taken her face in his hands and allowed his delight to mirror her own.

  Shaking herself free of the reverie, Reina wiped tears from her face she didn’t realize she cried. Our son would have never been in this situation if you’d been here. You were always so responsible. Tonight, she cried the tears she hadn’t shed since the early weeks of Jared’s death. She cried in gratitude, in relief, and sheer exhaustion. Cried and prayed. When the words wouldn’t come, her tears spoke her heart. She offered a special prayer of appreciation for Eli.

  Thoughts of Eli and her feelings for him continued to sneak up on her. Of course, I’m thinking about him. He was with me every step of this crisis. She rationalized. It would be strange if I weren’t thinking about him. She could see the faint cleft in his chin and now agreed with his mother about the flecks of hazel and gold in his eyes. Eyes that crinkled in the corner when he smiled and sat on a face with a straight nose, a mouth with wide, even-spaced white teeth, and thick dark eyebrows that matched a head full of crow-black hair. From his license picture she could tell his complexion was shades warmer than Lauren’s, but in the winter month it was hard to tell. She forced her mind away from that train of thought. It’s gratitude. She reminded herself. You’re grateful for his role in saving your son. Nothing more. You’re not ready for that kind of complication.