“There, now. That’s better.” Ellie tilted Ruby’s chin up so she could see her face. “Tell me, sweetheart, do you have any family nearby? Your grandmother maybe, or your father?”
Fresh tears welled up in her wide green eyes. “No, ma’am. My father died when I was a baby, and I don’t have any grandparents. Mama’s the only family I got.”
Officer Cummings bent over to be at eye level with Ruby. “Are you hurt, sweetheart?”
“Yes, ma’am. My arm and my face.” Ruby lifted her fingers to the bloody gash on her cheek.
“Can you tell me what happened to your arm?” Cummings asked.
Ruby bit down on her lip in an effort to stop it from quivering. “He was beating my mama. When I tried to make him stop, he smacked me away. I twisted my arm when I fell.”
“We should let the EMTs have a look.” Cummings gestured at the crew waiting at the back of the ambulance.
With her good arm, Ruby gripped Ellie’s leg and refused to let go. “Don’t worry, Ruby,” Cummings said. “Your teacher can come with us.”
The threesome walked together to the ambulance. One of the EMTs asked Ruby several questions about her arm while another blotted the wound on her face with a gauze pad.
Ellie pulled Cummings aside. “What’s going to happen to her?”
“Social Services will try to locate her relatives. If none can be found, she will be placed in foster care.”
Based on what Ruby had told them, Ellie doubted if any relatives existed. Her heart broke for the little girl sitting in the back of the ambulance. Day after day, Ruby had come to school with a bright smile on her sweet face—when all the while she was experiencing such atrocities at home. What kind of mother allowed her boyfriend to abuse her child? In this case, the answer was obvious—a woman addicted to meth, who didn’t deserve the privilege of being a mother.
Ellie and Julian followed the ambulance to MUSC in Ellie’s car. They stayed with Ruby while she was treated in the pediatric emergency room. The doctor saw no evidence of sexual abuse, but scars and faded bruises on her pale body suggested a history of physical abuse. He stitched up the laceration on her face, and when the X-rays confirmed his suspicion of a dislocated shoulder, he returned the bone to its correct position and placed her arm in a sling. Ruby, exhausted by the time it was all over, went willingly with the Social Services’ on-call worker whose job was to find a place for Ruby to sleep that night.
Ellie and Julian followed them out to the parking lot. “I’d like to talk to the person who will be in charge of Ruby’s case going forward,” she said to the on-call worker. “Do you know who that will be?”
The young woman pressed a business card in Ellie’s hand. “Call this number during business hours and ask to speak to the social worker handling her case.”
The rising sun was casting a rosy glow on the clouds as they made their way back to the Fuquas’ street to pick up Julian’s car.
“What a night,” Julian said as they walked in the back door at home.
She set her bag down on the bench. “I feel so sorry for that poor child. She told me she has only her mother, no other family. She’s all alone in the world.”
He sank to a nearby barstool. “What are you plotting, Ellie? I can tell something is brewing in your mind.”
She made herself a cup of lemon-ginger tea and stood at the counter beside him. “We have to help her, Julian. I can’t just turn my back on her.”
“And just how do you plan on helping her?”
“I’d like for us to be her foster parents.”
“I don’t know, honey,” he said, shaking his head. “That sounds like a huge commitment, especially when we already have two foster children asleep upstairs.” He pointed at the ceiling.
“Bella and Mya are not my foster children. They’re my nieces, my family. Once the adoption goes through, they will legally be our daughters.”
“And what about Ruby? Sounds like her mother will be going to jail for a long time. You’ll be satisfied with the foster relationship for a while, but you’ll soon want to adopt her as well.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Would that be so terrible, Julian? She’s an enthusiastic child with the potential to make something of herself, and we have the means to provide for her. Lately I’ve had this feeling that I inherited my grandmother’s estate for a reason. I believe God has something special planned for this house. I’ve always wanted a family of my own—”
He stood to face her. “Need I remind you that you’re pregnant? You’re about to have that family.”
“There’s plenty of room and money for all the children—our baby, the twins, Ruby. We’re blessed with this opportunity.”
“Don’t forget I have a daughter, too.” Julian’s face was flushed with anger. “Where does Katie fit in? She’s struggling at home, and she needs my support right now. Don’t make me choose between my own flesh and blood and your foster children.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means . . . I don’t know what it means, Ellie. Let’s go to bed.” He removed her teacup from her hand and set it down on the table. “We’ve had a long night. We can talk more about this tomorrow. I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with a way to help Ruby.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ellie
Julian was snoring by the time Ellie emerged from the bathroom. But she couldn’t sleep for worrying about Ruby. When she heard the pitter-patter of little feet in the hallway, she got up and followed the twins to the kitchen. Maddie was already working on the promised waffles.
She jiggled her spatula at Ellie. “I’ll get started on your breakfast hash, Miss Ellie, as soon as I get these young’uns fed.”
“Thanks, Maddie, but I’m not feeling well this morning. I don’t think I could stomach a bite.”
Maddie furrowed her brows. “You ain’t getting sick on me now, are ya? You need a spoonful of cod liver oil. Always did the trick when you was little.”
The color drained from Ellie’s face. “No, thank you.” A surge of dizziness overcame her as she gripped the edge of the countertop. “If you don’t mind watching the twins, I need to go lie down.”
Julian was shaving when she returned to their room. She lay down on the bed, closed her eyes, and this time fell fast asleep. When she came back downstairs two hours later, showered and dressed and ready to discuss Ruby’s future with her husband, she was disappointed to see his study door closed. They’d argued before over issues related to household management, but not over anything of importance. He’d never issued an ultimatum.
“Don’t make me choose between my own flesh and blood and your foster children,” he’d said.
She understood she was asking a lot of him. Being a foster parent was an enormous commitment. But they’d been blessed with so much.
What is so wrong with wanting to share our good fortune?
Becca had taken the twins to a program for young children at the aquarium. Desperate for a distraction, Ellie drove her car to the gallery. She circled the block several times before she located a parking place two streets over. Much progress had been made during her seven-day absence from the gallery. The project would be complete in another week or so. But the walls would remain bare. There was no art to hang. There was no desk where the gallery manager would sit. There was no gallery manager.
Her father was working night and day to get his photographs ready for the showing. But she needed more than his collection. There were plenty of local artists with available work to exhibit. Unfortunately, she knew none of them. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting until the twins’ birthday party to find out if Lacey was interested in the job. She would get her phone number from Julian and call her right away.
She left the banging and sawing in the showroom downstairs and climbed the iron stairs to her studio. She stared out across the rooftops of the downtown buildings, to the harbor. A sense of dread for the uncertain futu
re settled in her gut.
What will become of Ruby? And the twins? And Katie?
With Julian’s support, they could be one big, happy family if all went well with the court system. She’d been single all her life—with the exception of the last six months. She wasn’t used to anyone dictating her decisions. She loved Julian with all her heart, but she couldn’t turn her back on Ruby. Julian had told her to do what she had to do. And she would. She couldn’t live with her conscience otherwise.
She dug the business card the social worker had given her out of her bag and placed the call to Social Services. She was transferred four times without success. No one there had ever heard of Ruby Fuqua.
I’ll go visit them in person. It’ll be harder for them to put me off face-to-face.
She spoke to the workmen on her way out of the gallery and promised to have her decorator select the paint colors they’d requested. She keyed the address into her map app and followed the voice directions to the Department of Social Services, on the north side of town. When the receptionist—a woman about Ellie’s age with deep lines in her forehead from scowling—attempted to give Ellie the runaround, she demanded to see the supervisor in charge.
“Take a seat.” The receptionist motioned her to the waiting room. “She’ll be with you as soon as possible.”
Ellie watched the seconds tick by on the wall clock. It felt like five hours, but it was only twenty minutes before the receptionist directed her to the last office down the hall on the right.
Beth Morgan greeted her at the door. Her sparkling blue eyes and gentle smile instilled trust in Ellie.
They sat down across from each other at her desk. “I’m not at liberty to divulge any information about her temporary placement, but I can tell you Ruby is being well taken care of. The first step in the process is locating her relatives. So far, we haven’t had any luck.” Beth explained that her department’s main objective was reuniting children with their parents. “The chances of that happening in Ruby’s case are slim, considering the drug charges her mother faces. She most certainly will do jail time, quite a lot of it according to my source at the Charleston PD.”
“I’d like to apply to be her foster parent,” Ellie said. “I care about Ruby, and I have the means to provide for her. I can offer her a loving and safe home.”
“Really?” Beth said, her blue eyes peering at Ellie over the top of her tortoiseshell reading glasses. “How does your husband feel about this?”
Ellie hesitated. “He has some reservations, but he’ll come around. Julian is a kind man and a wonderful father.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Hagood, people don’t come around to being a foster parent. It takes a special kind of person. Foster parenting isn’t for everyone. You’re either committed or you’re not. Raising a child as your own only to have that child taken away from you years down the road can be traumatic.”
Ellie’s chest tightened at the thought of losing a child she loved. She was already in that predicament with the twins. She shrugged off her doubt. She couldn’t think about “down the road.” Ruby needed her now.
“I know my husband. Julian will come around once he’s had a chance to think about it.”
“You should be aware, Mrs. Hagood, that we’ll be conducting a background check and home inspection. If either of you are hiding anything, we’ll know about it.”
Ellie’s mind raced.
Is there anything in my or Julian’s past that would prevent us from being approved? What about his divorce? What if they learn my sister is a murder suspect and that I’m currently taking care of my sister’s children? Would they consider my home an unsafe place knowing my sister, who could possibly be dangerous, might show up at any time?
She straightened. She would cross that bridge when she got to it. “As I said a minute ago, Ms. Morgan, I’m confident in our ability to provide a loving home for Ruby. I’m ready to proceed.”
Beth got up from her desk and went to a metal file cabinet behind her. She opened the top drawer, removed a sheaf of papers, and handed it to Ellie. “Why don’t you take the paperwork with you? That way you and your husband can fill it out together.”
“Is there somewhere I can fill out my portion while I’m here? The sooner the better, right?”
“I’ll show you to a room down the hall if you’d like to take care of it now.”
Ellie gulped. Her stomach was tied up in knots.
How will I get Julian to fill out his paperwork when he seemed so opposed to being a foster parent?
She pressed her hand to her belly. “There’s a child desperately in need of a home. I’d like to get my paperwork in as soon as possible.”
Ellie followed Beth to a small, windowless room down the hall.
“I’m due in a meeting,” she said. “When you’re finished with the paperwork, you can leave it with my assistant. You understand I can’t proceed until I receive your husband’s paperwork.”
“I understand. After Julian gets his paperwork in, how soon should we expect to hear from you?”
“Within a day or two. It’s in the child’s best interest to find her permanent placement as soon as possible. I’ve spoken to Ruby. She trusts you. I’ll do everything in my power to make this placement happen.”
She’s spoken to Ruby about me? Ellie thought. Why didn’t she mention that earlier? Was she testing me?
Ellie held her tongue and smiled her thanks. After Beth left the room, she sat staring at the blank forms. This was the right decision for Ruby, but what about everyone else involved? The twins would surely love having a nine-year-old in their lives just as much as they loved having Katie.
But what about Julian? Am I willing to risk our marriage for this child?
If he chose not to support Ellie in this, he wasn’t the man she thought she’d married. Forcing thoughts of her husband from her mind, she set pen to paper and filled out the forms. By the time she’d finished, the uncertainty had returned, even stronger than before.
She gathered up the papers, marched them down the hall, and handed them to Beth’s assistant.
She was almost to her car when she felt a stabbing pain in her gut—a pain that had nothing to do with Ruby or Julian or Social Services. Another pain gripped her abdomen, and she doubled over, feeling warm liquid between her legs.
Oh my god! This can’t be happening, she thought.
Staggering to the car, she fumbled with her keys, unlocked the door, and started the engine. She was way across town. She had two choices—either call 9-1-1 or drive herself to the hospital. She removed her phone from her bag. When she received her husband’s voice mail, she called her father.
“Oh god, Daddy,” she cried when Abbott answered the phone. “I think I’m having a miscarriage.”
“Where are you, honey?” he said in the calm voice that had guided her through the years.
“In North Charleston.” She grabbed hold of the steering wheel as pain tore through her belly and radiated throughout her body.
“Are you able to drive yourself to the hospital?”
“I’ll get there somehow.” She threw her car in gear. “My doctor’s name is Ellen Gillespie. Call her office and tell her staff I’m on my way to Roper Hospital.”
“I’ll take care of it, honey. Unless you hear back from me, I’ll meet you at the emergency room. Do you want me to call Julian for you?”
“If you can reach him. I tried, but I got his voice mail.”
Ellie was grateful when he didn’t press her with questions.
She white-knuckled the steering wheel with her right hand and pressed her left hand against her abdomen as she maneuvered the Mini onto the highway and back toward downtown. The pains were coming fast, and blood had seeped through the crotch of her khaki slacks by the time she arrived at the emergency room. As promised, her father was waiting for her on the sidewalk out front. She parked in a handicapped space as Abbott hurried over with a wheelchair to assist her. Inside the emergency room, he turn
ed Ellie over to a triage nurse.
He knelt down beside her. “Julian’s on his way.”
Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. “He warned me not to push too hard, but I didn’t listen. I’m losing our baby, and it’s all my fault.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ellie
Julian arrived at the hospital within minutes of Abbott calling him. He remained at Ellie’s bedside throughout the horrific ordeal. He wiped her forehead with a cool washcloth, held her hand, and whispered comforting words near her ear. The hurt in his eyes was apparent when the doctor cautioned Ellie about trying to get pregnant again.
“Because of your age, your chances of carrying a healthy baby to term are slim,” Dr. Gillespie said. “You might consider other options, like adoption.”
But Ellie knew no adoption agency would give a newborn to a forty-year-old woman when millions of younger couples were waiting in line to adopt.
She was released from the emergency room around midnight on Thursday night. She rode home with Julian in his SUV. They didn’t speak during the short drive, and when they arrived at the house on South Battery, he helped her up the stairs to the second floor. The guest bedroom door was open, her father’s loud snores coming from within. Julian went to their room to start the shower for her while she tiptoed across the hall to check on the girls. Bella and Mya were sleeping peacefully, with their limbs tangled together in their queen-size bed. Ellie had tried to convince them to trade their queen bed in for twins, but they’d refused. Maddie, who’d stayed over to help Abbott with the girls, slept on the daybed in the adjoining room, her mouth slack and her arms across her chest.
Ellie stripped off her clothes in the en-suite bathroom and stepped into the shower. The hot water massaged her aching body and rinsed away all traces of her hospital stay. In the solitude of her shower stall, she was able to finally release the emotions she’d been holding back for the past twelve hours. Dropping to her knees on the marble floor, she bit down on her balled fist and rocked back and forth as she sobbed. She cried until her skin was pink, her fingers pruned, and her well of emotions empty. She slipped into her robe and wrapped her wet hair in a towel. The covers were turned back, but her bed was empty when she emerged from the bathroom. She assumed Julian was letting the dogs out, and she sat on the side of the bed for a long time waiting for him to return. Finally, her aching body got the best of her and she slid beneath the cool covers of her bed. She closed her eyes, but the burden of guilt weighed heavily on her, preventing her from falling asleep.
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