“On whatever it is you need. Place to live. A ride somewhere. Booze. Drugs. That kind of stuff.”
Marie tried to absorb it all but had a hard time visualizing a young teenage girl making it alone in a shelter. “So where did you go from there?”
Rachael sighed. “I went back to the bus station thinking if I asked enough people, maybe I could collect enough money for a bus ride here. Then this woman came up to me and asked me if I was okay. We started talking, and she was nice enough, so I told her where I was headed, and she said she would drive me there if I would go with her to Social Services and pretend to be her daughter. So I did that and she drove me here.”
“Wait a minute. Pretend to be her daughter?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Probably to get free money.”
“Good grief,” Marie mumbled. “So she drove you here, to my apartment?”
Rachael shook her head. “Not exactly. She dropped me off on Main Street. It took me awhile to find your apartment.”
Marie sat back and stared at Rachael in awe, trying to connect all the dots of what the child had gone through. “You are so lucky you didn’t get hurt. Tell me, though, why didn’t you just try to find someone who could call the police or your grandparents for you?”
Rachael’s lip quivered as though she was about to cry again. “All I could think of was my Dad might be dead, my mom is really messed up, and I wanted to be with you.”
“Did you try to call here first?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to talk to you just to have you tell me not to come here.”
Marie took Rachael to her bosom and held her tight. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now and by some miracle not hurt.” She pulled out of the hug. “But you took some mighty big chances, young lady.”
Rachael bit her lip. “I know. How much does Grandma and Grandpa know?”
“Just that you’re here and safe. We’ll call them tomorrow. I think the best thing now is for us to get some rest. I’m tired, and I know you must be too.” Marie paused and made direct eye contact with her. “Rachael…what your mom did—abandoning you, shooting Ben, and whatever else—I can assure you didn’t have anything to do with you.”
“How do you mean?”
“It was all about her—her issues, her insecurities, her demons. They have nothing to do with you. You were just an unfortunate victim. Do you understand that?”
“I guess so.”
“C’mon, let’s get some sleep. Sound like a plan?”
Rachael rubbed her eyes. “Okay.” Marie followed her toward the spare bedroom. Rachael turned around to face Marie. “Later, gator?”
Marie shook her head and gave her a heartfelt smile. She responded with, “Later, gator yourself,” and then promptly called the St. Charles police, who informed her they would be sending someone to Atchison first thing in the morning to get Rachael’s statement.
She then called Jonathan and Claire and relayed to them Rachael’s harrowing account of what had happened to her. Their phone conversation ended close to midnight. The call to Gloria and Greg would have to wait until the next day.
CHAPTER 25
Change
The St. Charles policewoman arrived promptly at nine o’clock to take Rachael’s statement. Marie could see that Rachael was nervous, but she handled herself extremely well for someone who had gone through that experience, especially a fifteen-year-old.
The Feinsteins were appreciative of Marie’s offer to keep Rachael for a few days, understanding that if that was where she had fled, it was where she wanted to be, and it would be best, at least for now. They agreed to come to Atchison on Sunday, at which time the four of them would come up with a plan for Rachael’s immediate future. Marie relayed this to Rachael while they sat at the dining room table.
“What’s to discuss? I’m here now. Can’t I just stay?”
“Rachael, it’s not that simple. Gregory and Gloria are your grandparents, and my guess is that legally they have the final word on what happens to you.”
“What about my mom?”
“Well, she’s been arrested, and Jonathan thinks she’ll probably go to jail. If that happens, she may not have any say in the matter.”
“But they’re not really my grandparents.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“‘Cause when Mom broke into the house, she told Dad he wasn’t really my father.”
“She did?”
“Yep. Threw it up right in his face.”
“Well, you know we’re back to that discussion we had the last time you were here. How do you really know? How do we know your mother is now telling the truth?”
“All I know is that it would be just like her to say Ben was my father when she was down and out and needed something from him. That’s how she is. She uses people.”
Marie peered long and hard into Rachael’s discontented eyes. “Is that what you really want…to come live with me?”
She leaned forward. Her face was serious. “More than anything else in the world.”
“I wouldn’t be a pushover, you know.”
Rachael sat back in her chair. “I know.”
“And I wouldn’t let you do whatever you want to do. There would be rules.”
“I’m cool with that.”
“You’d have to go back to school. And get good grades.”
Rachael nodded. “No sweat.”
“And no boys.”
“What, for the rest of my life?”
“No. For the rest of mine.”
A slow smile came across her face. “No boys. Can we at least get a dog?”
Marie half-smiled. Nothing she had done in her life had prepared her for raising a half-grown child.
The Feinsteins arrived at noon on Sunday as planned. Rachael took care of preparing lunch for the four of them. Gloria started the discussion. Her voice was warm but unyielding.
“Rachael, we know what you’re going through, and we want you to know that whatever you need, you can count on us for it.” She gave her a comforting smile. “Greg and I miss you very much. What we really came down here for is to take you home with us. We have that big house, so there’s plenty of room. We need to get you back in school, into your riding lessons, back with your friends.” She struggled to keep the tears in check. “And we think Ben would want that too.”
Gregory nodded throughout Gloria’s opening statement and then picked up from there. “I agree completely. We really do want you to come live with us and try to pick up the pieces. We think what’s best for you is to be with family in a time like this.”
“Before Rachael responds,” Marie said, “I want to tell you that Rachael and I have talked pretty much since she got here about what may lie ahead for her. And believe me, I want what’s best for her too. I’ve gotten to know her very well these past few months, especially these past few days, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for this child.” She looked at Rachael with tear-filled eyes. “I mean this young woman. And if what’s best for her is to live with you, then I’m one hundred percent for it. But I have to tell you that she and I have also talked about her staying here…permanently.”
Gloria and Greg exchanged glances. Greg let out a sigh and responded, “I can’t say we’re surprised. We’re both aware of how much Rachael cares about you, and there’s the fact that she sought you out when she was in trouble. That speaks volumes.” He turned his attention to Rachael. “You’re fifteen, Rachael, and you should have a say in the matter. Is that what you want to do, live here with Marie?”
Rachael nodded. “I love you guys. I really do.” She swiped the tears off her cheeks. “But I’d like to stay here.”
The Feinsteins turned their focus on Marie, who nodded. “Can my wife and I have a few minutes alone, Marie?” Greg asked.
“Of course.” She led them to the spare be
droom and closed the door.
Rachael and Marie were silent while they waited for Greg and Gloria to emerge. When they did, Marie saw Rachael cross her fingers and put them behind her back.
“Here’s the deal, young lady.” Gregory’s tone was serious, but everyone saw the glint in his eyes. “You’ll come visit us often, and when you can’t visit, you’ll call us. And we may pop in here for a visit as well. If you don’t do well in school, you’ll have to answer to us.” He gave Rachael an affectionate look. “Because I can assure you, we are not going to forget about you.”
Gloria added, “And if you ever need anything, anything at all, even if it’s just someone to talk to, you know how to get a hold of us.”
Gregory turned to Marie. Marie glanced at Rachael. They both put their hands on their hips and said in unison, “We’re cool with all that.”
Marie and Rachael spent the next month getting Rachael settled in. There was school to consider, redecorating Marie’s spare bedroom to match Rachael’s personality, and establishing a routine that worked for both of them. School was the big issue. Rachael should have been starting her sophomore year in high school, but because of the amount of school she had missed, the Atchison High School wouldn’t accept her. Academically, they thought she belonged in eighth grade.
Rachael went berserk. “They can’t do that to me. I can’t go to school two grades behind. Forget that shit!”
“Rachael! Your language.”
“Sorry.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
It took a lot of convincing, but Marie was able to get the high school administrator to allow Marie to work with Rachael over the summer and then take an achievement test to see if she qualified to be a freshman in the fall.
During the next weeks, in between Marie and Rachael’s long study sessions together, more of Rachael’s story emerged of how she escaped from her mother, especially stories of the three days she spent in the shelter—stories about the squalid conditions and dealing with social misfits, the mentally ill, and garden-variety weirdos. She talked about how she’d had to sleep, or pretend to sleep, next to pie-eyed old men and then try to find something to do outside the shelter between ten in the morning and two in the afternoon when everyone had to leave.
Marie cringed when she heard her tell these stories like it was just another day in paradise. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Rachael had been there before.
The Feinsteins boxed up Rachael’s belongings and sent them to her. They included a card to wish her well in her new home and a check for fifty dollars for her to buy something special to make her new start a memorable one. With part of the money, Rachael bought a picture frame. She put a photo of herself and Marie in it and then sent it to the Feinsteins.
The Feinsteins had included a second check made out to Marie, a check for a thousand dollars. The note read, “Please use this toward Rachael’s education. Ben would like that.”
“I’m so proud of her,” Marie told Karen one day when they met for lunch. “But just when I think I have her figured out, she does something else to surprise me.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that she didn’t tell the Feinsteins that her mom said Ben wasn’t her father after they told her they wanted her to live with them. That was very mature of her. And what teenager would take the fifty dollars they gave her and turn around and spend some of it on them?” She told Karen about the picture frame.
“What else did she buy with it?”
“She bought a glass bud vase at the five-and-dime for her room, and whenever I have flowers in the house, which is just about all the time, she takes one for her vase. Or sometimes Julia will give her a stem or two.”
“Doesn’t seem like something your average teenage girl would be interested in. Maybe she’s just looking for brownie points.”
“Maybe, but I also think that’s her way of expressing herself. She wants that bond with me but doesn’t know how to put it into words, so she finds or maybe even creates a commonality between us, like the flowers, to show me instead. Another thing is whenever I work late, I’ll come home and find she’s done something without being asked, like taking out the garbage or dusting and sweeping the sun porch, stuff like that.”
Karen laughed. “Have to give her credit. She’s very…let’s say shrewd for her age. How’s she doing with the studying?”
“Really well. She’s a bright girl and determined not to have to go through eighth grade again. I give her an assignment in the morning before I go to work, and she has to have it done by three when I get home. Then we go over it together, and I quiz her on it.”
“That’s great.”
“I told her she could take off weekends, but she suggested we keep going.” Marie sighed. “I’ll be glad when this is over. It’s running me ragged.”
“But you love every minute of it, don’t you?”
Marie smiled and nodded. “Hey, how’s Maurice? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life, I haven’t asked you about yours lately.”
“We’re good. What are you two doing on Memorial Day?”
“Jonathan and Claire invited us up for the weekend, so that’s where we’re going. I’m sure we’ll see the Feinsteins as well, which will be good for Rachael. How about you and Maurice?”
“He wants me to meet his daughter, but we haven’t quite figured out how to do that yet. His ex-wife is a real pill. Goes out of her way to make things difficult for him.”
“That’s too bad. How old is the daughter now?”
“Just turned seventeen. Maurice is trying to get her interested in the University of Missouri, but her mother is against it.”
“Well, she’ll be eighteen before you know it, and then she can decide things for herself.”
“That’s what he’s banking on. He’s going to Kansas City next week on business. Do you and Rachael want to take in a movie? Heidi may be fun.”
“Are you kidding? That would be way too immature for her,” Marie said sarcastically.
“How about Don’t Bother to Knock with Marilyn Monroe?”
“Um…come back down a notch…or two.”
“The Greatest Show on Earth?
“Perfect.”
It didn’t take long for Rachael to befriend thirteen-year-old next door neighbor, Phyllis Armstrong, and as a result, Rachael’s home territory expanded. Marie just hoped Phyllis was the one she was interested in being with and not Phyllis’s seventeen-year-old brother. Rachael and Phyllis would spend time in each other’s bedroom or in the yard behind the coach house. Marie and Phyllis’s mother, Linda, talked about it one day.
“I’m glad the two of them are friends,” Linda remarked. “There are no girls Phyllis’s age in the neighborhood.”
“Me too. It keeps Rachael close to home but gives her a little freedom as well. If she’s ever around too much, be sure to let me know.”
“You know, Phyllis is going away to camp for two weeks next month. I wonder if Rachael would want to go.”
“Where is it?”
“Up in Hiawatha. Lots of horseback riding, swimming, and hiking. I think the age group is eleven to fifteen.”
“I’ll ask her. May be good for her.”
Rachael was excited to go. Mr. Armstrong drove the girls to camp in his prize ‘31 Ford roadster complete with rumble seat.
Marie invited Karen over for dinner one night while Rachael was at camp. “So what have you been doing while she’s gone?”
“Well, for one thing, I am totally digging the silence. I almost forgot what that sounded like.”
“I’ll bet.”
“And the TV is getting a break. She has a habit of turning it on and then going off to do something else. Like listen to the radio in her room. Do you know how many times a day I have to tell her to turn it down?”
“Plenty, I’m sure. Who does she listen to?”
“Have you ever heard of Johnnie Ray?”
“No.”
“What else have you noticed with her gone this week?”
“I noticed an overdue library book in her room…on Amelia Earhart. And here I thought she hadn’t heard a word I’d said about her.”
“What about her?”
“I took her to her museum and told her Amelia was a stubborn and determined individual, just like Rachael. Now she’s reading a biography about her.”
“Got to give her credit, even if the book is overdue.”
Marie laughed. “Well, I guess I can’t have everything. She’s a handful.”
They continued talking while preparing dinner. “Your life sure has changed with her here,” Karen remarked.
“I’ll say, but with Rachael at camp, I can tell you I don’t miss picking up after her or straightening the bathroom towels six times a day.”
Karen shook her head. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”
“Did I tell you I discovered she was using my razor? So now I have to have a talk with her on feminine hygiene when she gets back. Good grief.”
“Just wait ‘til you have to have the birds and bees talk.”
“Ugh. I hadn’t even thought about that. When am I supposed to do that?”
“Well, she is a teenager.”
Marie shook her head while she thought about their conversation. “And all that eye-rolling. Drives me crazy.”
“Anything else?”
Marie smiled. “God, I miss her.”
Karen chuckled. “Who said, ‘Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation?’”
“I don’t know, but they sure knew what they were talking about. She wrote me a letter from camp, you know.” Marie got up to retrieve the letter and let Karen read it to herself.
Karen glanced up at Marie after reading it. “Well, she writes a good letter.”
“I think so too.” Marie tried to stifle a smile. “And guess what else? I got a letter yesterday from Greg and Gloria. Turns out Ben had an insurance policy, and they wanted Rachael to be the beneficiary, so they enclosed a check for $10,000.”
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