The List

by Alice Ward

  Auggie pouted a bit but in the spirit of our new commitment to one another, she accepted my judgment and we passed.

  The next day, the same agent called and said she had another property she’d like us to look at. We followed her directions and found ourselves at the northern edge of Oldham County. There were more than a thousand acres and it was completely developed.

  “This was an Arabian horse complex,” she said as she showed us around. “The acreage is broken down into ten-acre plots and gentleman farmers would build a house on each for when they were in town. The central part of the development has new, state-of-the-art barns, breeding facilities, show ring, physical fitness including a pool for the horses. There’s also a hotel where out of town guests could come and stay while choosing to buy a horse or simply come to watch the business of Arabian breeding. There’s nothing like it in this part of the country. The closest would be the facilities in Arizona. It’s sat vacant for a few years — bad management. I was thinking that you could move into one of the farms — the houses really are quite nice — and build yourself a new home using the hotel as a foundation for it. You could have plenty of room for company for the people who work for you. You’re only two miles from the river to the east, you’re in the school system you want for your son and this is a small, quaint town where everyone knows everyone. They’d be quite impressed with you. Best of all, there’s a straight shot to downtown along highway 42 and another using I-71. If you go north, you can cross the Ohio at Madison and be on your way to Indianapolis. I-71 will take you straight to Cincinnati. I know, Dr. LaViere, that you have business interests in those communities so this would give you a very centralized location.”

  I was impressed by this agent; she’d done her homework. “What do you think, Auggie?” I asked and she wanted to check out some of the smaller farms.

  “Worth, this is perfect.” Her eyes sparkled in her excitement. “Remember how I said I liked the size of the condo? We can build a house here that fits our family. We don’t need a huge thing. There are several homes here that we could easily live in while we build. Dad and your mother could have one of the others. There’s one for Betsy and her sister, one for Bernie, and when Ford is old enough, one for him as well. There’s plenty of room to build outward on any of them. Then there're the facilities for the horses. They’re gorgeous and are as nice, if not nicer than the ones I had built. I would really like this, Worth. And she’s right. You wouldn’t be but an hour or so from several of your clinics.”

  Auggie didn’t need to convince me. I could see the logic in her words and her plans. I knew, most of all, that this made her heart sing and she would have the room to expand her dreams. She wasn’t cut out for downtown chic, even though she could certainly put on the swagger.

  “So how about the existing estate?” I asked.

  “Let’s do what we said. Let’s donate the whole thing and ask Tyler to be the director. You can stay on as CEO, but it will be a hobby for us; not a full-time job and certainly not a place where we need to live.”

  “I like it,” I agreed, pulling her to my chest. “Consider it done.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Auggie

  We moved into the condo in town for the summer and fall while Worth transferred the holdings of the estate to the foundation. There was a certain amount of relief I felt when it was all done. Dad and Margaret were coming north for a few weeks and I expected Dad to sell his place and take one of the farms at the Arabian development. We’d decided to call it Carlos Acres, for obvious reasons to anyone who knew me. Worth had already contracted with Beverly Dexter to build the house that fit us perfectly.

  Worth and I were scheduled to go to the obstetrician’s. It would be my first visit with an ultrasound and we’d decided we wanted to know the sex of our baby since we were building. At least that’s what we told ourselves. Actually, we were just eager to know.

  We walked into the clinic and were escorted right in to the room with ultrasound. The operator put cold jelly as contact points on my tummy and scooched around the mouse-like transmitter. When she was done, we were escorted to the doctor’s office.

  “You want to know the sex?” he asked and we nodded. “You’re having a little girl,” he said and I laughed, clapping my hands. “And you’re having a little boy,” he added and our mouths dropped open. “Twins?” He nodded and grinned. “Nothing to worry about. Both are in perfect condition and size for this point. We’ll monitor you closely. The only thing I can say is you might end up having a caesarian if they grow too large. In the meantime, take your vitamins, eat healthy, get plenty of rest and you might avoid relations for the time being. There’s no proof of that having any adverse effects, but it does wear down the mother and you’ll need to keep your strength up for the birth. See you next month!” he said cheerfully and left us in the room.

  Worth hugged me and kissed me deeply. “No relations, huh?” he frowned and I play slapped him. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to tide you over?”

  I nuzzled my nose into his chest and said nothing.

  “I wonder what Ford will think,” Worth said, kissing the top of my head. “Although it really doesn’t matter. It’s a done deal,” he said. “Well, c’mon, mama… let’s get you a big salad for lunch. Now you’re eating for three!”

  I telephoned the news to Dad and they were thrilled. Ford, not so much.

  “Why are you having twins?” he asked, as though there was some way to order them in pairs. “Why isn’t just one enough?”

  “Ford! Aren’t you happy? You’ll have a new brother and a sister. You can help me take care of them. We’ll teach them to ride and you can teach them to swim. Think of all the fun it will be!”

  “I don’t want them,” he said in a cold voice. “We don’t need them. The three of us are enough. Tell the doctor you want to give them away when they’re born.”

  Worth was across the room and heard this conversation. My mouth was opened in horror and Worth was scrambling to take it down a notch. “Now, Ford, don’t be silly. We will all be one family and you’ll be glad they’re here. You’ll love them and one day, you won’t even remember what it was like to not have them with us.”

  “I don’t want them!” Ford screamed and ran to his bedroom.

  I was quite shaken by this. Worth’s face deepened into a frown. He didn’t want to say aloud what we were both thinking. Finally, he sighed and said, “I’m going to have him talk to Tyler for a while. In fact, I think I’ll have him work weekends at the foundation, helping to build. He’s old enough now to learn to use a hammer. There are workmen there who will supervise. Don’t worry, Auggie, it’s just a stage.”

  I said a silent prayer that Worth was right. There was no going back at this point. Military school hadn’t worked and even home-schooling didn’t seem to be the right fit for him. I was holding out hope that the school in Oldham County, where he would be among kids like himself, would do the trick. It seemed ironic that the son of a psychologist would be having such problems, but there was no way you could overlook his genetic contribution.

  Dad and Margaret were in town, selling the farm. I asked Dad what he thought about it.

  “Well, Auggie, there’s always been something a bit different about Ford. I used to think it was because he was an only child and that if he had siblings, he would change. That sounds like it’s not such a good idea after all. He’s spoiled, just as you were spoiled, but then you had core values that carried you through. I think Worth is right. I think it would be good for him to work at the Foundation for a while. Let him see the kids who aren’t as lucky as he is and let him learn to use his hands. Nothing will take the fight out of you faster than a hard day’s labor.”

  I had to trust that Worth and Dad knew what they were talking about. The twins were growing daily and I was beginning to feel their weight dragging against my back. I had to sit down more often and had started taking naps every afternoon. My ankles were swelling and the doctor cut do
wn my salt intake and told me to walk more. That was exactly the hardest thing to do.

  I passed the time by driving out to Carlos Acres to check on the progress of the building. I was under orders not to walk around the construction site as I was becoming ungainly with my misshapen body. Beverly would come out and talk to me, pointing out different features and bringing me pictures of the interior on her iPad. It was a virtual tour of my new life and I couldn’t help but want to be more involved.

  Dad’s farm sold quickly and they picked out a farm they wanted at Carlos Acres before heading back to Florida. Dad assured me that as my due date came closer, they would be up and on hand. I waved goodbye to them at the airport and wished they would stay longer. I had a bad feeling that something was going to happen, but had no idea what it would be.

  Worth was extremely busy. He not only had the estate with the foundation to deal with, the new building to supervise and my health to watch over, he still had his clinics. There were now over fifty of them and they’d grown out of his ability to supervise. He put out the word and a buyer approached him. Worth negotiated to sell all but the original clinic in Louisville and the sale went without a hitch. Personally, I was glad he did it. He’d proven himself, the clinics would still carry his name and his brand and now he would have more time for me and our children. I wanted him to spend more time overseeing Ford’s home schooling.

  My due date was rapidly approaching. I had given up travelling and spent most of the time in bed with my feet elevated. Worth was no longer leaving town, staying in Louisville in case I needed him.

  My water broke on a Friday afternoon. Worth wasn’t taking any chances and called for an ambulance. He called Dad and put Ford in Betsy’s capable hands.

  I was in labor for ten hours and it looked as though a Cesarean was imminent but then one of the babies moved and that seemed to clear the canal. Marga and Mark LaViere were born just before midnight and each weighed an identical six pounds. They were healthy and squalling, and I was intensely relieved it was all over.

  Worth brought Ford to the hospital to see them through the nursery window. Worth didn’t tell me until later that Ford spat on the window and walked away. Worth caught up to him and spoke to him sternly. Ford ignored him.

  I told Dad and Margaret not to bother making the trip. They had just gotten back to Florida and as soon as it was safe for the babies to travel, we would all come down and stay at the condo for the winter. Worth would fly back and forth so he could continue to oversee construction as needed.

  I had agreed this once to let Worth design the house’s interior and choose the furnishings. I figured I’d had several shots at it and it was only fair to let him have some input for once. I told myself, I could always change it later.

  I didn’t nurse the twins; they were too robust and it wore me down. Worth hired nurses to handle the feedings and their care. It felt so good to be able to sleep again, most especially on my tummy. At six weeks, the doctor gave the green light and we hired a private jet and left for Florida. Ford sat in the tail of the plane, staring out the window the entire time.

  When we arrive, there was a great to-do about the babies, which only threw Ford into a darker mood. He refused to hug Margaret or Dad and quickly went to his room and slammed the door. I looked at Worth, who simply shook his head.

  I spent a great deal of time walking on the beach. I needed the relaxation and the sunshine to recover. Having the babies had been harder than I’d imagined it would be. Perhaps it was Ford who was truly wearing me down, with worry as well as constant arguments. I didn’t know where my happy, loving son had gone. In his place was a brooding, angry young teen. No matter what I said, he argued and actually threw fits to get his way.

  I expressed my concerns to Worth and he took Ford to a variety of psychologists and even a psychiatrist. The last put Ford on a mood stabilizing drug, which had the opposite effect. Ford grew violent and Worth had to actually have him restrained until he calmed down. We constantly feared for the safety of the babies because Ford seemed so intent on harming them.

  We put inside locks on the condo doors, but it didn’t matter. Ford figured out how to open them and took off long before anyone was up in the morning. We were getting phone calls from the police. They had picked him up for vandalism, emptying garbage receptacles along the beach and finally, for shoplifting. He had stolen a candy bar from a small grocery and the owner was threatening to press charges.

  I was beside myself with worry. Worth said little, but I could tell he was concerned as well. We both knew that eventually Worth was going to have to return to Kentucky to tend to business and there was no way I could handle twin babies as well as a young teen who was determined to be wild and harmful. I insisted the babies sleep in bassinets in my room just because I was afraid Ford might harm them.

  Worth had stayed as long as he could but needed to return to Kentucky for at least a week to get things caught up. He decided to take Ford with him. They left on a Monday morning, close to Halloween. They landed in Louisville and went straight to the clinic. Worth was in his office making phone calls when a commotion got his attention. He opened his door and heard women screaming from the opposite end of the clinic. By the time he got there, Ford streaked past him. One of the attendants came out and told Worth that Ford had gone into the ladies’ hot tub and massage area and was making obscene gestures and comments to the naked guests. Worth turned and strode down the hallway to find Ford, but he’d run out into the parking lot and was missing.

  Worth called to tell me not to worry, but that Ford was on the run and to let him know if I heard anything. I wanted to jump on a plane myself but knew there was nothing I could do but wait. Worth called Bill Daughtery, and Bill told him to call the police. It was time to get the authorities involved.

  It was horrible.

  Ford caused a wide path of uproar as he travelled. He walked into stores and grabbed things before running into the parking lot. He picked up landscaping rocks and smashed them into parked cars, setting off alarms and breaking glass, in addition to causing sizeable dents. Worth was driving up and down the street, following the sound of alarms, trying to track Ford down.

  The police caught up to him first and arrested him as a juvenile and took him to detention. They called me first and then I telephoned Worth. Worth hired an attorney but the judge felt Ford was a danger to himself, as well as others, and held him in detention. Worth contacted Tyler Peterson who went to visit Ford and came back with dire observations.

  “Your son is deeply disturbed, Worth. I’m sorry. He declared in front of staff that he wanted to kill himself and anyone who got in his way. He needs a thorough examination by several doctors specializing in adolescents. I would also recommend a physical exam to be sure to rule out tumors or neurological causes. I’m sorry, Worth, I wish I had better news to report. You’d better get the best in on this — you’re going to need it.”

  Worth relayed all this to me. We had sworn honesty to one another and although it pained me to hear it, I knew it pained him more to tell me. We decided he would stay in Louisville indefinitely until he got Ford straightened out and that I would stay in Florida with the twins. We couldn’t risk whatever mania was in control of him.

  It was the saddest, loneliest holiday season I could ever remember. My son needed me and there was nothing I could do to help him, not even be by his side. It was too dangerous for him to be near the little ones. They needed me, too, and perhaps even more. I wanted Worth to be with me, to assure me that everything would come out alright, but he could give neither the assurance nor the companionship.

  Dad and Margaret tried to cheer me up, but I could tell they were just as frightened as I was. How was it possible that an adolescent boy could hold all these adults, especially authorities, hostage? My son had become a part of the system. Any efforts on Worth’s or my part now to remove him from their custody would result in our being prosecuted as unfit parents and child protective services would take him f
rom us, perhaps permanently.

  The winter dragged and the golden Gulf held no magic for me. I tended to the twins who were already curious and starting to be mobile. Margaret and I took them for long walks in the sunshine in a double stroller, but our hearts were always heavy.

  Worth finally flew down for a three-day weekend in late February. Margaret watched the babies while he and I went out to dinner. We chose a quiet little place where we could talk.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I said and he nodded, his fingers stroking the back of my hand.

  “I know, sweetheart. I don’t know what’s going on — where this all came from all of a sudden.”

  I linked my fingers with his. “Worth, be truthful. We’ve seen it coming. There have been signs all along the way. There’s something wrong with him and as long as he had our full attention, he wasn’t triggered. But now he has to share us with his siblings, with the businesses, the development — he’s acting out. We can’t watch him closely enough.”

  “They’re talking about keeping him in confinement at the boys’ home,” Worth told me and my heart felt like it would break in half. He was such a beautiful young man, but all the money we had wouldn’t buy him happiness.

  “Is there somewhere better to put him that the judge would accept?” I asked. “Maybe a facility here in Florida where I could visit?”

  “No, first the judge won’t let him out of his jurisdiction. Second, you’ll be coming back up to Louisville very soon and then he’d be down here alone. Third, the facility up there is at least monitored by people I know. I don’t have any connections down here.”

  “Worth, what do you think we should do? If he weren’t your son, what would you recommend?”