The Other Mothers (Chop, Chop Series Book 5)

by L. N. Cronk

  “He should have been,” I agreed, “but he wasn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “He had rickets.”

  “Rickets?”

  “Yes.”

  “What causes rickets?”

  “Your Honor!” Beckham interrupted. “The witness is an engineer, not a medical doctor.”

  Reanna was ready for him.

  “Withdrawn,” she said, snatching a piece of paper from the table. “According to the National Institute of Health, rickets is a disorder that leads to softening and weakening of the bones and it is caused by a lack of vitamin D, calcium or phosphate.”

  “Your Honor!” Beckham exclaimed. “Ms. Justice is not a medical doctor either!”

  It was obvious that he desperately did not want to allow any evidence that might make Savanna Escalante look as if she hadn’t taken good care of Dorito while he’d been with her.

  “Your Honor,” Reanna stated, “I am simply trying to show that Mr. Holland provided medical care and treatment to the child for a prolonged period of time to establish that he took on the role of caretaker at an early stage in this child’s life.”

  “I’ll allow evidence of Mr. Holland’s care of the child,” the judge decided, “but not of what caused the condition. Continue.”

  Reanna nodded, knowing she’d gotten it in there anyway.

  “How do you know Doroteo had rickets?”

  “Once I realized that something was really wrong with his legs, I took him to the doctor.”

  “You took him to the doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was that normal for volunteers to take the children to the doctor?”

  “No.”

  “So why did you do it?”

  “He . . . he needed to see a doctor. Something was wrong.”

  “So you just took it upon yourself to take him to the doctor?”

  “I got permission from the director of the orphanage first.”

  “I see. And who paid for this?”

  “I did.”

  “Why didn’t the orphanage pay for it?”

  “Money was tight for them and I knew it was going to take a long time before they ever got around to doing something for him, so I just offered to pay for it so he could get some help quickly.”

  “Did you do that a lot?”

  “Do what a lot?”

  “Pay for medical treatment for orphans?”

  “No.”

  “Had you ever paid for one of the children to receive medical treatment before?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ever do it again?”

  “No,” I said. “Well, I mean, we adopted Lily from the orphanage and we’ve paid for a lot of things for her, but not while she was still an orphan, no.”

  “Okay,” she said, “so you took him to the doctor even though it was not normal for volunteers to take this upon themselves?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it was at what point that he was diagnosed with rickets?”

  “They pretty much diagnosed it right away.”

  “And what type of medical care was needed?”

  “Ummm, well, we had to make sure that he had a more nutritious diet and that he had plenty of vitamin D and got out in the sun . . . that sort of thing.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No,” I said. “He needed orthotics and physical therapy.”

  “Orthotics?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “They were these plastic leg braces that helped straighten out his legs.”

  “I see,” Reanna said. “And how long did he have to wear these leg braces?”

  “Well, he had three sets total because as he grew they had to make him new ones, and he wore each set for about seven or eight months . . . I guess about two years.”

  “And physical therapy for two years?”

  “No,” I said, “he got to the point where we just did the exercises ourselves. The physical therapist told me to just to keep him active and encourage him to walk and stuff.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “How?”

  “Ummm, we mostly played. I tried to make it fun for him – you know, instead of saying ‘Oh, it’s time to do your exercises,’ we’d have a contest to see who could reach up the highest – I’d be on my knees and would pretend to reach as high as I could and let him win . . . that sort of thing.”

  “You were responsible for making sure he went to physical therapy and did his exercises?”

  “Yes.”

  “And was that something that was normal for volunteers at the orphanage to do?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “So why did you do it?”

  “I wanted to help him. I wanted to make sure he had all the advantages in life that he could.”

  “And how many times did you take children from the orphanage to physical therapy?”

  “I just did it for Doroteo.”

  “No other orphans?”

  “No.”

  “What about special exercises?”

  “No,” I said, “just him.”

  “So,” she said, “for no other orphan did you pay for medical care. For no other orphan did you take them to therapy and make sure they did their exercises. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not?” she asked. “Weren’t there a lot of other children who probably could have used some extra attention but weren’t getting it?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “But you only helped Doroteo?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you want to help him?”

  “He . . . he was special to me,” I said.

  “Special? What made him so special?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not really something I can explain, but he was just the neatest kid. He still is.”

  “He’s still the neatest kid?” she smiled.

  “He’s the greatest,” I said.

  “Tell me something about him,” Reanna said. “What’s his favorite thing to do?”

  “Talk!” I grinned. “He loves to talk!”

  I stole a glance at Tanner and saw that he was smiling, too.

  “Rather verbose, is he?” she asked.

  “You have no idea,” I said. “Dorito doesn’t even stop talking when he goes under water.”

  “What did you call him?”

  Ooops.

  “Ummm, Dorito,” I said. I glanced at the judge. “It’s his nickname. Everybody calls him that.”

  “Everybody?” Reanna asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Even his teachers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who gave him his nickname?”

  “Ummm, I did.”

  “Do you love Dorito?” Reanna asked me quietly.

  I nodded, blinking back tears.

  “Please answer out loud,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice breaking.

  “How much do you love him?”

  “I . . . I can’t tell you,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s no way to quantify how much I love him.”

  “Try,” she urged.

  I looked down at my hands and at my wedding ring.

  “He’s the most important thing in my life,” I finally said, looking back up at her. “He’s everything to me. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “THANK YOU,” REANNA said gently, and then she looked at the judge. “No further questions.”

  “Your witness,” the judge told Beckham.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Beckham said, “but we have no questions at this time.”

  I let out a silent sigh of relief and then glanced at the judge.

  “You may step down,” he said.

  “Okay,” I nodded. “Thank you.”

  As I made my way back to my seat, I heard him ask if any other witnesses were going to be called. When he was to
ld that there weren’t, it was time for summation.

  During closing arguments, Beckham reiterated that Savanna had never abandoned her child, but that Dorito had been kidnapped from her. Furthermore, Beckham stated that Savanna had never had the opportunity to find him or to contest the adoption and termination of her parental rights because her husband had unlawfully prevented her from doing so.

  Reanna reminded the judge that our adoption of Dorito had followed all the laws of both countries and that Savanna could have gone to the police any time she wanted to – it wasn’t as if she had been locked in a cage in her basement or something. What Dorito’s father had done had been illegal and if Savanna had chosen to put up with it and not take any action against him . . . well, that wasn’t our problem. The fact of the matter was that Savanna had had a choice as to whether or not to attempt to find her child and she had chosen not to. By choosing not to she had, in effect, abandoned her child just as her husband had.

  It was not the place of the court, Reanna went on, to determine why a mother would choose to abandon her child – just like it was not the duty of the court to determine why a mother might agree to put her child up for adoption. If the courts were allowed to examine the reasons why parents made the decisions that they did, then every unwed, teenaged mother who had ever felt pressured by her parents to get rid of a newborn baby could – years later – change her mind and ask the courts to give her back her child. Once a decision has been made, one must live with the consequences of their decision.

  Reanna only hinted at the fact that Savanna had demonstrated an inability to properly care for her children by not attempting to get them out of an abusive situation and by allowing Dorito to get rickets, but she did make a big deal out of what fantastic parents Laci and I were and how happy Dorito was in his home with us – the only parents he had ever known. It would be devastating for him, Reanna wrapped up, to even consider taking him away from us.

  That, I decided, was the understatement of the century.

  After they were done, I was surprised – and upset – when the judge told us that he was going to wait until the next day to announce his verdict.

  “Does he honestly not know how he’s going to rule?” I cried to Reanna after court had been adjourned.

  “He might not have decided yet,” Reanna admitted, “but the fact that he’s told us to be back here tomorrow morning makes me think he’s already made up his mind. I think he just wants to collect his thoughts and decide how he wants to word his decision.”

  “What do you think he’s going to do?”

  She gave me a look that implied I was hopeless.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Reanna said, patting me on the shoulder. “Go home and enjoy your evening.”

  ~ ~ ~

  WE’D ONLY BEEN on the road for about five minutes when Tanner’s phone vibrated. He held it up and looked at it.

  “It’s Laci,” Tanner said, surprised.

  I snatched the phone away from him and answered it.

  “What are you doing, Laci?” I asked.

  “David?”

  “Yes! It’s David. What are you calling Tanner for?”

  “I . . . I wanted to find out how things went today.”

  “So you called Tanner?” I asked.

  “Well, you won’t tell me anything!” she protested.

  “Maybe if you’d been there with me like you should have been then you’d know what happened.”

  Laci didn’t say anything and Tanner shot me a very disapproving look.

  I looked out the window and took a deep breath.

  “Are you there?” I finally heard her ask quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “Will you please tell me what happened?”

  “The judge isn’t going to make a decision until tomorrow.”

  “Well, how did you feel that things went today?”

  “Lousy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re focusing on the fact that he was essentially kidnapped. There’s no precedent for a kidnapped child not being returned to his biological parent after he’s been found.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” I said, trying not to shout, “that we’re probably going to lose him, Laci! That’s what I mean!”

  “But . . . but we adopted him!” she cried. “We legally adopted him and-”

  “It doesn’t matter, Laci!” I said. “Don’t you understand? He was kidnapped! The adoption was never legal because his mother never gave consent for him to be adopted! That’s what they’re saying!”

  “Does your lawyer think we’re going to lose him?” she asked.

  “She won’t tell me what she thinks,” I said. “But I can read the writing on the wall. You don’t need to have a law degree to see what’s going on.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

  “It’s a little late for that.”

  “I’m trying to help,” she said.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I told her.

  “Are you coming home?”

  “Where else would I go?” I asked, hanging up on her.

  “Dave,” Tanner said as I thrust his phone at him.

  “Don’t start, Tanner. Okay? Just don’t start with me.”

  He reached for his phone. “You guys can’t keep going on like this. You’ve gotta work it out.”

  “You’re the last person I need marital advice from,” I snarled. I saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel and his jaw tense. Of course, shutting-up at this point would have been a good plan, but I was too far gone.

  “I don’t know what you care for anyway,” I said. “Get me out of the picture and you could have her all to yourself.”

  He actually pulled his truck over to the side of the road. It came to a stop and he turned to face me.

  “Do you really think that’s what I want?” he asked.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. No one could ask for a better friend than what he’d been to me over the past year. I was filled with self-loathing.

  “No,” I finally said. “I don’t think that.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see him relax.

  “Look,” he said quietly. “I saw you do this when Greg died. You took it out on everyone around you . . .”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not mad at you . . . I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I’m not talking about you taking it out on me,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Laci,” he said.

  “I’m taking it out on Laci because I’m mad at Laci!” I clarified.

  “No, you’re not,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I argued. “I pretty much am. She’s been against me every step of the way – ever since Savanna Escalante darkened our doorstep.”

  “She’s been against the decisions you’ve made,” he agreed, “but that’s not why you’re mad. Even if Laci had supported you every step of the way, would anything be different right now?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “I wouldn’t be mad at her.”

  “But wouldn’t you still be sitting here waiting for a judge to decide if you get to keep Dorito or not?”

  “I guess so,” I said.

  “And wouldn’t Amber still be gone?”

  Of course my breath caught in my throat. I didn’t answer him.

  “And you’d still be mad,” he said, shrugging. “And you’d probably still take it out on everybody around you or you’d push everybody away or you’d find some other way to self-destruct. The problem is that you won’t let yourself get mad at the right Person.”

  “The right person?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, piss me off ? Well, I might put you in a body cast or something, but you’d probably heal . . . eventually. Piss Laci off? She might divorce you or whatever, but probably you’d get over that, too. But piss off the Big Guy upstairs?” he pointed Heavenward and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I r
eckon you might be looking at eternal damnation.”

  “I’m not mad at God,” I told him flatly.

  “And you won’t let yourself admit that you’re mad at God,” he went on, “which is probably why you’re self-destructing . . .”

  “What are you now?” I asked. “A psychotherapist?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I’m just a big, dumb jock. I probably don’t know what I’m talking about at all.”

  “Are you done?”

  “I don’t really care if you work things out with God or not,” he said, obviously not done, “but you need to make things right with Laci. This isn’t her fault.”

  “Can we go home, please?”

  “No,” he said. “I need you to tell me that you’re gonna take care of this before you get back in that courtroom tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think I can,” I said quietly, sitting back in my seat and looking out the window.

  “You have to,” he insisted. “You need to fix things with her tonight – before it’s too late.”

  “No. You don’t understand,” I said. “I think it’s already too late.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t think we’re gonna be able to work things out.”

  “That’s crazy!” Tanner said. “You guys are having a fight! You don’t throw away a whole marriage just because of one little fight!”

  “It’s not just a fight,” I said. “I don’t feel the same way about her.”

  “You still love her,” Tanner told me.

  I looked out the window and thought for a minute.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Not like I used to.”

  “She still loves you.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not really. It’s different for her too. I know she loves me, but it’s not like it used to be. She loves me like she loves one of the kids or something . . . like she loves some homeless person she sees on the street or like she loves some family that’s living at the landfill or like she loves some mother who wants to get her child back. If she had to choose between me and one of them, I don’t think she’d pick me.”

  “She would too.”

  “What’s so funny about it,” I went on, ignoring him, “is that the way she is . . . the way she loves other people so much and the way she wants to help everybody? That used to be one of the things about her that I used to love the most, but now . . .”