“At the end of those visits, you would conduct a second hearing to consider the advisability of a permanent order. We would ask that any order incorporate those factors to which Ms. Green just agreed, with the addition that the girls not be left with either or both of Ms. Bateman’s parents.”
“What?” Jennie’s mother stood.
“As Ms. Green noted, a mother should protect her children from abuse. Ms. Bateman’s mother did not protect her daughter, and she cannot be relied on to protect her granddaughters.”
“Ms. Green?”
“We believe that a visitation order consistent with Ms. Bateman’s petition should be issued.” She paused, and Judge Sullivan raised an eyebrow. “However, if Your Honor deems it wise, we would not object to Ms. Carson’s suggestion.”
Chapter Six
“Hi, Grandmom.”
Jennie settled herself on the concrete post that marked one corner of the Bateman plot. “I went to court last week. I…I didn’t exactly win, but I didn’t exactly lose either.” She told her grandmother about the outcome of the hearing. “We’ll have three visits, one each month. After that, well, I don’t know after that. There will be another hearing and…” She shrugged as if to say who knows?
“You’d love the girls, Grandmom. Both of them are so pretty, and so cute, and they have such good manners. I hope that we can be friends. I’m certainly going to try.” She smiled as she pictured Alexis and Christa.
“Alice said that Ms. Carson—she’s Thomas’s attorney—is setting me up to hang myself with these three visits, just as she did when she had the girls go to dinner with me. I guess I need to tell you about dinner.” Jennie sighed as she recounted the events of that night. “It wasn’t my fault, but still…” She shook her head. “Poor Christa was terrified. She thought Daddy was going to hit her, and I did too.
“Alice says that Ms. Carson hopes I won’t be able to cope with being responsible for two teenagers, hopes I find out it’s not as much fun as I expect it to be. She may be right too. I don’t expect it to be fun, exactly, but I do expect to enjoy being with them…We’ll see. I suppose, too, that they could dislike me so much that the judge wouldn’t want to send them back. Sarah says that’s just stupid, but I don’t know…”
Jennie looked around the cemetery. It was the end of January. The trees were bare. The Christmas flowers that had been placed on graves were dead or dying, and gray clouds covered the sky. It was an awful time to find one’s self in a cemetery.
“Ms. Carson asked about the time Daddy caught me with Johnny. You know about that…I had to tell the truth, and she made him look like a monster.” She stared at the ground for a few seconds. “He is, isn’t he? A monster? I know you love him and all, but he didn’t treat his children well at all.” She took a deep breath. “The judge said that Daddy and Mama can’t be alone with the girls. Daddy screamed when the order was issued. Stood up, shook his fist at the judge, and called her names.” She chuckled.
“Judge Sullivan had him taken out of the room. He complained and cursed all of the way home. I finally put in my earphones and listened to my IPod, but I could still hear his voice.” She watched a hawk fly across the cemetery and land on one of the large stones near the church and it made her smile. “I’m glad he can’t be with them. I’ll kill the man if he ever hits my children.”
She checked her watch. “I have to see Dr. Wilson in a little while. The judge had me talk to another therapist. He agreed with Dr. Wilson, said I seem to be doing well, managing my moods. I had the locks re-keyed, like they wanted. I’ve done everything I was supposed to do.”
She stood and walked around the plot, rubbing her hands together for warmth. “Am I doing the right thing, Grandmom? Thomas and his attorney say that I’m selfish, that if I truly cared about Alexis and Christa then I’d leave them alone. That’s not true, is it? Is it selfish to want to know your own daughters? I don’t think I’m being selfish, but I wonder sometimes.” She pulled a stray weed and tossed it aside.
“Maybe it is all about me…Ms. Carson asked me what I would do with the girls if I had them for a weekend, and I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t know what to do. I mean, it would be pointless to sit and stare at each other for two days, but I don’t have anything wonderful for us to do next weekend. What is there to do that could possibly interest them?”
She sat down again and tried to think of what she could do to entertain the girls. “We need to talk to each other. Get to know each other. I guess it will be like making new friends…except they don’t want to be friends.” She wiped a stray hair out of her face. “Saturday is the real problem. They’ll arrive at suppertime on Friday, so we’ll eat and talk, maybe. On Sunday we’ll go to church. But Saturday?” She shook her head. “I’ll think about it.”
As she stood and dusted herself off, she watched the hawk spread its wings and soar into the clouds. “I need to leave. I’ll let you know how things go.” She bent over and touched her grandmother’s headstone. “Bye, Grandmom. I love you.”
***
At noon on Friday, Emma waited beside Thomas’s car in the school’s parking lot. He was inside, getting the girls for the six-hour drive to Georgia. She had suggested that they leave at three, when school ended, arriving at nine or ten o’clock, just in time for the girls to go to bed.
They had been sitting on the sofa in her family room. Thomas had had his arm around her shoulders.
“Maybe next time,” he had said. “They need time to get settled. I need time to drive back to Atlanta.”
“Why can’t she come here?” Emma had asked. “It would be much easier for one person to make the trip than three.”
“I don’t want her here,” Thomas had replied. He had stood and walked to the window, where he had stared out at the flowerless garden. “My life is here. She’s not a part of my life.”
“Thomas, if the girls are going to be seeing her, the two of you will need to get along.”
Thomas had crossed his arms over his chest. “Three visits. That’s all. It won’t work out. This…foolishness will be over by April.”
Now, Emma idly kicked at a rock lying on the pavement beside the car. “I hope he’s right.”
The front doors opened with a bang, and Emma turned to see Christa rushing through them, taking the steps two at a time. She dashed to Emma, throwing her arms around her.
“Emma, I don’t want to go.”
“I know, Chrissie,” Emma said. “It will be all right, though. You’ll see.”
“You don’t think that, really, do you?”
“Of course I do. I think you are a strong person and you can cope with whatever situation you find yourself in.”
Christa sighed. “I wish she’d leave us alone.”
Emma hugged her. “I do too. I do too.”
Alexis and Thomas joined them.
“Load up, girls. Time to go.”
As they put their book bags in the trunk, Thomas and Emma stepped away, toward the front of the car. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You be careful now. Call me from Atlanta, so I’ll know you’re okay.”
“I will.” He kissed her.
“Call me anytime you get lonely. I’ll talk dirty to you.” Emma laughed at the joke they shared when either one left on a trip.
Thomas raised one eyebrow and looked toward the girls.
“Mud. Sludge. Grime…” she said quickly. “Silly, they’ve heard this before.”
“I know.” He laughed and kissed her again.
Emma turned to Alexis and Christa who were standing by the car. “It’s okay. You can look now.” They all laughed. “You two behave yourselves. No matter what happens, you remember where you’re from, and you act like the young ladies that you are.” She hugged them both. “Your dad has to write this weekend. If you have any trouble, any trouble at all, you call me. I’ll come right over and take care of things.”
“She’s a witch,” Alexis hissed.
“Be nice, now,” Emma war
ned, giving her the icy stare that told Alexis that she’d better listen.
“Did I miss something?” Thomas had been checking his email. “Who is going to be nice?” He looked from one to the other.
“Nothing. Go. Call me.” Emma stood back and watched as they drove away. “They’d better have no reason to call me,” she said quietly.
***
Jennie paced about the house. It was spotless. She had swept, mopped, vacuumed. A vase in the dining room was filled with flowers, and she had started dinner. She glanced at the clock. Anytime now. Alice had relayed the message that Thomas would bring her daughters around six, and it was five till.
Jennie had been dressed for an hour. What to wear had been a major decision. Not a dress. Not khakis and her burgundy polo, her school’s uniform. She had settled on a pair of navy slacks and a striped t-shirt. She looked like someone’s mother she had decided, but not a grandmother.
Glancing in the guest room, she hurried over to straighten one of the throw pillows. On the chest was a basket with shampoo and body lotion and toothpaste and almost anything else Alexis or Christa might need.
Returning to the kitchen, she checked dinner. The vegetables were simmering. The rolls were rising, and, once she popped them into the oven, all she would have to do was fry the chicken. Her stomach rumbled. She had been sick twice already, thinking about the weekend. Friends at school had wished her luck this afternoon. Marcie, one of the other third grade teachers had brought her the flowers. She had hugged Jennie. “Everything will be fine,” she had said. “Don’t worry.”
Jennie wished she was so confident. The grandfather clock struck six as she peered through the front window. It was dark already and lights burned in the windows of the houses across the street. She watched as a car cruised slowly toward her and her heart began to thud. She sighed and turned away. It was just old Mr. Williamston who lived next door.
She sat on the sofa and idly flipped through a magazine she had placed on the table. As she began to read a story about small towns in the south, she heard a car door slam. She dashed to the front door, still holding the magazine, and yanked it open as Thomas started up the steps. Alexis and Christa followed. Each girl carried a duffle bag, with a backpack slung across her shoulder.
“Hi. Come in.” Jennie stepped back.
As she spoke, Thomas stopped and motioned for the girls to enter, but he lingered on the step.
“You come in, too.” Jennie managed a small smile as Alexis and Christa brushed past her, their expressions reminding Jennie of what she would expect from a prisoner approaching his execution. She imagined what they must be feeling—fear, uncertainty, anxiety, anger—she felt most of those herself.
“Thanks, but I really need to be going,” Thomas said. “I’ll be in Atlanta at the Ritz-Carlton. Both girls have my number on speed dial.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back at noon on Sunday.”
“So early? We won’t…”
“It will be a six- or seven-hour drive. All of us have school on Monday, and they will likely have homework to finish.”
“Okay. We’ll be ready.”
“Alexis, Christa, behave yourselves.” Both girls stared straight ahead. “Be nice.”
“We will, Daddy,” Alexis said.
They stood in the living room, listening as Thomas’s car pulled away. Jennie looked at her daughters. Alexis reminded her of a defiant child who was daring her mother to say something about her behavior. A tear slid down Christa’s cheek.
“Your room is down the hall.” Jennie pointed toward the guest room. She gave Christa a gentle hug as she passed, but Christa’s body was stiff and did not yield to her touch. Like a tree, Jennie thought.
“Two beds. You can hang clothes in the closet or put them in the dresser.”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
Jennie stepped back and pointed down the hall. “Right there.” Her eyes met Alexis’s. “There is just one bathroom.”
After a moment of silence, she pushed a few stray hairs out of her eyes. “Dinner will be ready in just a little while. I wasn’t sure exactly when you would arrive. Get settled. Come help me if you’d like.”
She heard the beep as she reached the kitchen, indicating that the oven was hot. She slid the rolls onto the middle shelf and set the timer for fifteen minutes. Next, she poured an inch of oil into her cast-iron pan. Taking the chicken from the refrigerator, she dipped each piece in buttermilk and dredged it in flour.
“What is that?”
Jennie had just placed the last piece of chicken in the oil. Turning, she found Alexis and Christa staring at the pan.
“Chicken,” she replied, puzzled.
“Not the chicken. That.” Alexis pointed at the oil which was popping around the chicken.
“Oh, it’s oil. I’m frying the chicken.”
“Isn’t oil bad for you? Emma says it clogs your arteries.”
Jennie tensed as she heard Emma’s name.
“Well, it’s vegetable oil, not lard like Mama would use.”
“What’s lard?” Christa wrinkled her nose, and Jennie laughed.
“It’s pig fat.”
“Yuck,” they spoke in unison.
“Now, that’s really bad for you.” She turned around. “Fried chicken, green beans, rice and gravy, squash, rolls, apple pie for dessert. Sound good?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you set the table for me?” Both girls nodded, and Jennie showed them where to find the plates, glasses, and silverware.
“There is a pitcher of iced tea in the refrigerator.”
The table was set in front of a bay window that looked out onto a garden. Jennie wished it were spring. The flowers would be in bloom and birds would be singing as they visited the feeders that hung near the porch. Jennie often lingered at the table long after she had finished her meal, watching and listening.
She wondered how her breakfast area compared to the girls’ dining room in Charleston. She had not been inside their house, but, having seen it from the outside, she could imagine how large and how well furnished the rooms must be.
They sat around the table and served themselves. As Jennie took her first bite of chicken, she noticed both girls staring at her.
“What?” She looked down at her plate, on her shirt, to see what was wrong.
“Aren’t you going to ask the blessing?” Christa had not even picked up her fork.
“Oh, uh, surely…of course.” Jennie dabbed at her moth with her napkin. She recalled their dinner in Charleston. “I…uh…would one of you like to ask it?”
Alexis rolled her eyes, then bowed her head. “Bless us, O Lord, and what we are about to receive…”
They ate in silence for several minutes.
“You told me that you like to ride, Christa.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It has been so cold, you probably haven’t been out recently.”
“Just twice this week.”
“Oh. We have an equestrian center not far from here. Stables, riding ring, everything. Maybe we can drive by to see it tomorrow. Would that be good?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jennie turned to Alexis. “How is soccer going? Is your team doing well this year?”
Alexis shrugged. “The season starts next month.”
Jennie asked how things were going at school. Alexis glanced at Christa before replying that school was fine. Jennie asked what courses they were taking, and each girl recited her schedule.
“Which is your favorite, Alexis?”
“English, I guess.”
“How about you, Christa?”
Christa shrugged.
Jennie gave up, and they finished dinner in silence.
“Was dinner good?”
“Yes, ma’am.” They spoke in unison.
Jennie began to clear the table. She smiled as she noted that the vegetable bowls were empty and that there was a single piece of chicken remaining. Half of
the pie had disappeared. “I’m glad. Fried chicken is one of my favorite meals.” She stopped suddenly and wheeled around. “Christa, you weren’t allergic to anything, were you?”
“Now she asks.” Alexis spoke so softly that Jennie barely heard her.
“No, ma’am.”
“What foods are you allergic to?”
“Scallops, lobster, rye flour, some cheese, corn.”
“No cornbread, then?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Do you want to watch television while I finish picking up?”
“We can help…” Alexis began.
“Thanks, but let me do it tonight. You’re my guests.”
Jennie watched as Alexis and Christa raced into the living room. Christa snatched the remote and began flipping channels.
“What channel is USA?” She had flipped through almost twenty already, most of them with no signal.
“What is USA?” Jennie asked.
“It has a new show. You don’t have cable?” Christa’s face registered disbelief.
“I have an antenna—three networks and PBS.”
Christa punched OFF and they sat on the sofa waiting for Jennie to put the dishes in the sink. A few minutes later, she walked into the living room, drying her hands on a towel. She sat in a chair across from the girls. No one spoke for a moment.
“Do you have big plans for Valentine’s Day, Alexis?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Alexis’s face flushed and she looked down. Christa put her hand across her mouth.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Well, sort of…”
Christa began to laugh as Alexis’s face turned crimson. “He’s taking her to dinner.” She moved away from Alexis, to the end of the sofa. “Alexis and Robbie sitting in a tree…”
“Stop. Quit.” Alexis reached over and popped Christa on the arm.
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