Mercies and Miracles

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Mercies and Miracles Page 21

by Sharon Downing Jarvis


  “Means I think his whole approach to his talk was designed to get the attention of all you girls, and not in the best possible way, either. He bordered on being disrespectful to President Brigham Young, just for the shock effect. It seemed to work, too the way all of you were crowded around him. I don’t think he’ll make a very good missionary, either. He’d be trying to convert all the girls to him, and forget about the Lord, or the gospel.”

  The bishop couldn’t help a small chuckle. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell us how you really feel, honey?” he teased.

  “Well, I think y’all are awful,” Tiffani objected. “We were just trying to welcome him into the ward. And he is cute. So what if he doesn’t give the best talks?”

  “He’s very nice-looking,” agreed Trish, emphasizing the “looking.” “And I hope you’ll stay as far away from him as possible.”

  “Mom! Shouldn’t you and Dad be nice to him, and try to get him to do better, if you think he’s so bad? I mean, Dad’s the bishop, and ”

  “Sugar, I’m speaking only for myself in this matter,” Trish assured her. “As the bishop, of course your dad has to deal with him as he sees fit, and as the Lord directs him to, but as for me, as a mom, that young man scares the daylights out of me, and I think all you girls ought to be very, very careful of him.”

  Tiffani frowned doubtfully at her mother. “You think he’s a player?”

  “Big time. I could be wrong, of course. But those are the vibes he gives off.”

  Amen, thought the bishop. So glad you said it, Trish, because I shouldn’t at least, not yet.

  * * *

  He dressed with care on Friday morning, choosing a conservative tie and trying to look as knowledgeable and responsible and clergy-like as possible. He attempted to plan what he might say, if given the opportunity to support Melody in her plea to have Andrea returned to her custody, but he gave up and decided to let the Lord give him words in the moment they might be needed.

  A small crowd of people milled around the marble hall outside Judge Williams’s chambers. He recognized some of them Sister Hallmark from LDS Social Services, and Mrs. Parkman, Melody’s caseworker, who had taken exception to his referring to the removal of Andrea from her home in the early morning hours as “snatching.” He would try to be more careful in his terminology today, if the opportunity arose. His opinion of the act, however, had not changed.

  He nodded to Sister Hallmark and then saw Melody, who had been standing behind her. Melody spotted him at about the same time, and hurried over to greet him.

  “Bishop, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, her voice low and tense. “Thanks so much. I’m so nervous, I could die.”

  She did, indeed, look tense. Already slender, she appeared to have lost weight over the last few weeks, and her tan had begun to fade, so that there was even more contrast between her complexion and her dark hair.

  “I’m kinda nervous, too,” he responded. “Let’s step around this corner for a minute, shall we, and have a word of prayer?”

  They moved into a window alcove, out of the sight of others on the mezzanine, and bowed their heads.

  “Heavenly Father,” he prayed softly, “Thou knowest the importance of this hearing today. We pray Thee to bless us, especially Melody, with a calm spirit and a knowledge of Thy love for her and her little daughter. Thou knowest, too, how greatly we desire Andrea to be returned to her home, and we beseech Thee, if it is Thy will and in her best interest, that she be allowed to do so. We, and others, have fasted and dedicated our fast to this purpose, and pray that it may be effective. Now, we thank Thee for this opportunity, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

  Melody drew a long, shaky breath and let it out again. “I think that helps,” she said. “I know I need to appear to be calm and competent. Sister Hallmark told me that, because Mrs. Parkman keeps worrying that I’m too emotional to be a good single parent to Andi.”

  “I know,” he said, steering her back toward the group. “I think it’s a little unrealistic to expect you not to be emotional, under the circumstances, but let’s both do our best to keep our cool, and allow the Lord to do His work here.”

  “I like that thought. That He’s here in charge.”

  “So do I.”

  The hearing finally convened in the judge’s chambers, which gave it an aura of privacy and informality that may have been misleading, the bishop thought. It wasn’t too evident, for the first forty-five minutes or so of the proceedings, that the Lord had anything to do with the matter. In spite of the coziness of the room, with its fireplace, several wingback chairs, bookcases and long, red-draped windows, Judge Teresa Williams’s demeanor was anything but cozy. A small, squat woman whose sour expression suggested too many encounters with the dishonest and unsavory, she sat behind her mahogany desk with her hands folded, and listened impassively to the testimony of the experts. She heard Mrs. Parkman’s doubts about Melody’s emotional state, the policeman’s uncertainty regarding Jack Padgett’s chances of being sufficiently rehabilitated to return to the family even if Melody decided that she wanted him to and the list of complaints against Jack, evidences of things that had happened in the home which little Andrea, age six, had witnessed and internalized to the point that she acted them out with her young peers at the daycare center. The judge asked occasional searching questions, made notes, and gave no sign of how her opinion was being formed. Bishop Shepherd found himself wanting very badly for Jack Padgett to be able to prove the policeman wrong and to move ahead full-steam with his rehabilitation.

  “Mrs. Padgett, I’d like to hear from you, at this point,” Judge Williams finally invited.

  “Yes, your Honor,” Melody responded, her voice low but not shaking. The bishop sent up one more petition in her behalf.

  “It would appear that one of the chief concerns here is the fact that you allowed your young daughter to witness your husband’s verbal and physical abuse of you on numerous occasions. Would you comment, please?”

  “It’s true, your Honor. There were times when I wasn’t able to prevent her seeing or hearing what went on, especially when my husband would suddenly erupt in anger over something I hadn’t anticipated. Other times, when I thought he might likely become upset, I did arrange for Andrea to stay longer at the babysitter’s, and we would go pick her up after Jack had settled down. Sometimes when he would come after me, I would head away from her room, or wherever she was at the time, in hopes that she wouldn’t be aware of what was going on. But frequently she would hear our voices and come to see what was wrong.”

  “Was he ever physically or verbally abusive to her?”

  “No, ma’am. I did fear that it might escalate to that, but thankfully, it never did. The closest he came was punishing me for not teaching or controlling her better, when she’d made some mess or done something he didn’t like. He did does really care about Andrea.”

  “Do you think he cares about you?”

  Melody looked at her hands, clenched before her. “I don’t know, your Honor.”

  “How have things been for you, since Jack and Andrea were both removed from your home?”

  Melody looked back at the judge. “Very lonely,” she said. “More peaceful, of course, without the fear of Jack’s outbursts, but very lonely without my daughter. Way too quiet and empty. And I’ve been so worried about Andrea what she might be thinking, whether she’s well and happy, or missing us.”

  “Do you actually think she’s missed her father?”

  Melody looked steadily at the judge, who leaned forward and peered at her as if she couldn’t quite make out Melody’s features. “Yes, your Honor, I’m sure she misses her daddy. Jack isn’t all bad, and Andrea loves him the good part of him.”

  “And do you love Jack, Melody? The good part of him?”

  “Honestly, I’m still trying to work that out in my own mind and heart. Lately I’ve been very angry with him for all he put us through but I know, in my mind, that I was to blame, as well. For lettin
g him do it, for so long. For putting up with it.”

  “Why did you put up with it?”

  Melody’s lips held the ghost of a smile. “I’m still learning about that, too,” she admitted.

  “I guess I bought into the idea that it was all my fault, that if I could just be better do better not make him angry, that things wouldn’t be that way. If I could just anticipate what might set him off, and not let it happen, we’d be happier. Now I know that I was fooling myself. The problem was mostly within Jack, and not so much to do with me or with Andi, and anything we did or didn’t do. I just I enabled him to be abusive, by blaming myself. I’m not entirely sure how I ever got roped into doing that.” She paused for a moment, then continued. “You see, the thing is, I wanted I really wanted our family to stay together. What’s happened all of us apart, Andi not with either of us that was like my worst nightmare. And yet I helped to make it happen. And for that, I’m very, very sorry.”

  “Would you rather that things had gone on as they were?”

  “No. No, ma’am.”

  “Would you say you’re depressed, Mrs. Padgett?”

  Melody considered this. “Not depressed so that I need medication,” she said. “But am I sad, because of how things are? Yes, ma’am um, your Honor I’m sad without my little girl. It’s like my reason for doing things has disappeared. There’s not much color in my life these days. I just go through the motions, but it’s not fun to make dinner just for me, and Halloween was miserable. I kept wondering if Andi had a costume, and if she got any treats. I don’t even like to think about Christmas. But, no, I’m not what you’d call clinically depressed. I’m just missing her. And my counseling sessions help, because I can explain all my feelings to my counselor, and she understands.”

  “That would be Mrs. Hallmark?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is Mrs. Hallmark here?”

  “Yes, your Honor.” Sister Hallmark stood.

  “You may sit down, Mrs. Padgett. Mrs. Hallmark, would you characterize Mrs. Padgett as a good mother?”

  “Mrs. Padgett desires above all else to be a good mother, your Honor, and she’s making admirable progress in learning to stand up for herself and for her child. In my opinion, she already was an excellent mother, but laboring under very difficult circumstances, and adapting her responses the best she could at the time to keep her family intact and continue to mother her child. Now, she’s learning healthier responses, and I feel that she and Andrea would do well together.”

  “Without Mr. Padgett, you mean?”

  “For the time being, at least. I don’t believe there’s any question, is there, of reintroducing him into the family setting anytime soon?”

  “Hell, no,” growled the policeman from his corner, and Mrs. Parkman shook her head.

  “That’ll do,” reprimanded the judge calmly, with a glance in their direction, and they murmured their apologies. “And thank you, Mrs. Hallmark. Mrs. Padgett, I’m interested in learning what made you change your thinking about your husband’s behavior, and your part in enabling it. Did your thinking just begin to change on the morning when Jack and Andrea were removed from the home?”

  Melody stood again, and slowly shook her head. “No, your Honor. My thinking had already begun to change, but I hadn’t acted on it. I wish I had.”

  “Well, when did it begin to change, and why?”

  “It was because of my bishop my church leader. He sensed that something was wrong, that Jack was being abusive, and he asked us about it, on several occasions especially me. I always denied it, because I guess that was how I felt I could keep our family together, and I didn’t want Jack to think I was telling on him. I could only imagine how mean and angry Jack would be if I did that. But Bishop Shepherd didn’t buy my denials, and gradually, what he said kind of wore me down, and I found myself almost admitting to him that he was right. I began to see that I didn’t really deserve the way I was being treated, and that there might be some way to change things for all of us, and get Jack the help he needed. I was actually contemplating asking for help when everything blew up.”

  “I see. And is your bishop here today?”

  “I am, your Honor. James Shepherd,” the bishop said, rising to his feet. Melody sank back down.

  “So you sensed that there was abuse going on in the Padgett home?”

  This was dangerous ground. “I suspected, yes. But Melody always denied it, and even begged me not to talk to Jack about it. But eventually I confronted him, and told him what I suspected. He tried to downplay it, but didn’t really deny it. He finally confessed to me that he didn’t know any other way to deal with his frustrations, and I told him that either he would voluntarily get help, which I could help him initiate, or that I would have to intervene and contact the authorities.”

  She looked at him coolly. “Perhaps you should have intervened sooner.”

  “Perhaps so,” he agreed. “But I feel it’s always better if a person recognizes his need for help and asks for it. That’s what I was trying to get Jack and Melody both to do.”

  “What’s your opinion on whether Melody should regain custody of her daughter?”

  “Your honor, one of my most deeply cherished beliefs is in the validity and integrity of the family, as the most basic unit of society and of my religion. Anytime we can arrange for a family to remain as intact as possible and work out their problems together, I’m all for it. Melody’s a good mother, and she’s in the process of becoming an even better one. She’s great with kids I’ve seen her in action, working with them at church, and I believe she and Andrea are devoted to each other. I don’t believe Jack’s ready to return to them, but I sincerely hope that one day he and their relationships will be healed to the point that he can do so, if that’s what Melody decides she wants. In the meantime, my most sincere recommendation would be to allow Melody to regain custody of Andrea.”

  “I didn’t ask you for your recommendation, Mr. Bishop er, Shepherd, excuse me, I merely asked for your opinion.”

  “I’m sorry, your Honor. In any case, they’re one and the same.”

  The judge glanced toward her bailiff. “Is the child here?”

  “Yes, your Honor.”

  “Will you have her brought in, please?”

  The bishop saw Melody stiffen. Calm, Melody, calm, he thought, wishing he were capable of thought-transference.

  Andrea came into the room through a side door, her eyes wide at the assemblage of solemn adults. She held her arms folded, as if she were in Primary. The bishop put a smile on his face, in case she glanced his way. Melody gave a small gasp, and her eyes began to fill. Andrea found her mother, and took a small step forward, then paused.

  “Mommy?” she said in a small voice. “Mommy, are you okay? I’ve been lost. You and Daddy forgot to come get me. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

  “Oh, honey,” Melody whispered. “I’m so glad to see you. I love you so much! Can I . . .”

  She appealed to Judge Williams. “Can I hug her?”

  “Well, I think you’d better,” the judge said, with a tight little smile.

  Melody held out her arms, and Andrea went into them, but her eyes were still big with apprehension and confusion, and glanced from face to face even as she returned her mother’s embrace. She finally saw the bishop, and he winked at her. She waggled the fingers of one hand uncertainly. After she had examined each face in the room, she looked up at Melody.

  “Daddy isn’t here?” she questioned, and Melody shook her head. “No, honey. Just Mommy.”

  “Oh. Okay. Can we go home, just you and me?”

  Melody’s chin wobbled. “I hope so, sweetheart.”

  “Would you like that, Andrea?” asked Judge Williams. “Do you want to go home with just your Mommy, even if Daddy isn’t there?”

  Andrea nodded. “I thought my mommy was dead, ’cause her and Daddy didn’t come get me. I thought it was my fault ’cause I was bad,” she said, twisting her face to look u
p at her mother. “Was I bad, Mommy? Is that why you didn’t come?”

  “No, no, never, honey. It was never your fault, not at all.” Melody buried her face in her child’s curls.

  See? See? the bishop cried silently, to the powers that had taken and detained and sheltered the little girl for these long months. Hadn’t they explained things to her? Surely they had, but it must be that she had to make sense of things in her own way. If Mommy and Daddy hadn’t come to get her, it must be that they’d forgotten her, or died, or that she’d been so bad they didn’t want her anymore. Her six-year-old’s reasoning broke his heart.

  The judge was speaking, issuing her decision that the custody of Andrea Padgett was to be immediately turned over to her mother, Mrs. Melody Padgett, and that both, together and separately, were to continue to undergo counseling and therapy until such time as the acting agencies and the courts were satisfied that they were sufficiently whole to be released. Andrea, who had started attending first grade, was to continue in the elementary school nearest her home. Jack Padgett was to continue, for at least another six months, to be under a restraining order to stay beyond a three-mile radius of the family home and the school at all times, which distance was sufficient to allow him to access his business on Melville Street. If he should accidentally come across his family, he was not to talk to them, nor they to him and he was to immediately distance himself from them for the prescribed three miles. They were to do the same, and neither party was to seek the other out, nor make phone calls to one another, nor in any way violate the restraining order. Jack also remained under court orders to continue to attend therapy and counseling sessions as presently set up.

  Melody rocked Andrea back and forth, tears of happiness blending with her smiles as she thanked the judge. The bishop thought it was probably the first real smile he had ever seen from Melody. He also thought he detected a certain moisture in the eyes of Judge Teresa Williams as she dismissed the hearing and turned aside.

  Chapter Eighteen

  * * *

  “the spirit’s divinest tuition”

 

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