Pastor Aaron put his arm lightly around Jessica’s shoulders. Sarah noticed an instantaneous relaxing to them. Pastor Aaron had that effect on most people in his flock (as he fondly referred to his congregation—active or otherwise). When Jessica had arrived the previous day, she looked like a wound-up tambourine monkey. Sarah knew instantly that a distraction was necessary.
Fortunately, it was time for her weekly visit to Loving Arms Children’s Home. Sarah, along with Pastor Aaron, made the visit at least once a week, more if her schedule would allow it, to visit the children who lived there. Loving Arms was a transitional group home for children who were not eligible for adoption, but who were unable for one reason or another to be placed in a permanent foster home.
She had been making this visit for most of her adult life. Jessica came regularly all through her adolescent years, and into college, too, when she was home on a school break. Now, whenever she could get some extra time away from work, she would come. But always for Christmas parties. The kids knew her well and welcomed her visits with shouts of glee.
Sarah watched Jessica as she sat down beside a new girl, Angela, who had just entered the home that same week. The girl looked frightened. Hostility danced in her eyes. Within moments, Sarah could see her relax. She thought she even saw the ghost of a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
A favorite aspect of Jessica’s visit with the children was taking pictures of the kids. Jessica dug in her purse now and produced the image-maker that so fascinated the younger children. There was a whole wall dedicated to the photos Jessica took of the kids. Every year the wall was purged to make room for new photos. It was a group effort and the children would laugh hard as they passed around the photos before boxing them up, carefully marking the boxes for easy identification. Those leaving the home were welcome to take their photos with them; most did, but some didn’t want to be reminded of their stay in the transitional foster home.
Angela was fascinated by the camera and took it tentatively when Jessica placed it in her hands. She put it carefully up to her eye as Jessica showed her what to do, and giggled when she saw a miniature version of Jessica through the lens. Jessica then showed her how to push the button and take the picture. The therapy was working. Before long, Angela was all over the room taking candid shots of the younger children.
It was the first time Sarah had seen her laugh since her arrival. She hadn’t realized what a pretty girl she was, until she smiled.
Jessica came up to Sarah and hugged her. “Thanks, Mom. This was just what I needed.”
Sarah smiled and hugged her in return. “I thought it would help.”
“What’s her story?” she asked, nodding toward Angela.
“Neglect, and probably abuse,” Sarah answered sadly. “As usual, her mother has a drug problem and the father is out of the picture. They picked up her mother for prostitution, and she was high on crack. They had to take her to the hospital for a potential overdose. She told the ER doctors about her daughter—in between periods of consciousness, that is.
“They tracked down her apartment, and sure enough there was Angela all alone and eating leftover pizza from about two days previous. There was nothing else in the house to eat. She hasn’t eaten much since she arrived here. The doctors are worried. They say she is underweight.”
Jessica shook her head. A stab of pity wrenched her heart. “Will she be returned to her mother?”
“I’m not sure. Right now, it doesn’t look as though the mother cares, but with Angela’s current attitude, she isn’t even adoptable. They have her working with a therapist, but until tonight, nobody has been able to break through her armor. I’m impressed. How did you do it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. She just looked so sad sitting there all by herself. I remembered when you bought me my camera and how good it made me feel. I was at such a lonely place in my life; it really helped. I thought if I could get her interested in it, then maybe, it would take her mind off her problems. How old is she?”
“Seven. I know she looks small; she probably had some fetal alcohol syndrome, and maybe even withdrawals from her mother’s drug use when she was born. The social workers are still trying to figure out how her mother managed to keep her so long. They said she should have been taken from her at birth, but it didn’t happen. Apparently, the mother gave birth at home. They think that is how she managed to avoid the system. Her birth certificate seems to be legal, though. It’s so sad how these kids are brought up.”
They watched Angela for a moment. Neither woman spoke for a long time. Finally, Sarah turned to Jessica, “Are you up for some dinner?”
She took one last look at Angela and smiled. “You know. I think I am. Suddenly, at this moment, my problems seem trivial, and I am starving. Come on let’s go.”
They linked their arms, hugged as many children as they could, waved to the rest, and headed for the door. They were almost there when they heard Angela calling Jessica’s name. She stopped and turned as the child struggled from one of the aide’s grasp.
“Jessica, wait.” she called. She ran breathlessly and threw herself into Jessica’s arms. She looked up into her face. Jessica hugged her tightly. She wiped the tears from her eyes.
“It’s okay, Angela, you’ll be all right. This is a good place. They have lots of love to offer and all the food you can eat. You’ll make friends. You’ll be happy here. I promise.”
“Will I have to go home soon?”
Jessica wasn’t sure if she meant would “she have to” or, “would she be able to.” She looked at her mother for confirmation, but Sarah only shrugged. Jessica stooped down beside the child.
“Do you want to go home?”
She didn’t answer right away, but looked away with down cast eyes, as if ashamed. Then finally, she spoke, “It’s a bad place there. The men are mean and hit Mommy. Then Mommy gets mad and hits me.”
“Do the men ever hit you?”
“No. They only hit Mommy. Sometimes they are nice to me and give me kisses. Some of them yell at me to leave, and I hide under my bed until they leave. Then I go to bed and fall asleep. When I wake up, I fix breakfast for Mommy and me, if Mommy bought some food, only Mommy is usually too sleepy to wake up to eat it.”
Jessica looked at her mother. She wasn’t sure what to tell the child. She wasn’t a trained therapist. Sarah came to her rescue.
“Angela, these people here are good people. They can help figure out where it is best for you to live. Dr. Lisa is very nice. She has a little girl about your age. You can talk to her about anything you want. Do you think you can do that, Angela?”
She nodded and said in a small voice, “I think so. Can I play with her little girl?”
The women smiled at each other. “You’ll have to ask Dr. Lisa, but I think that is probably okay,” Sarah said.
Angela squealed, delighted, and ran off to play.
Jessica watched her run off with a mixture of emotions. “I hope things turn out for her,” she said as they walked to the car.
“It’s hard to tell now. You never know how these kids will turn out. Some of them go on and do well in school, while others fall victim to the system. Some have parents who put their child’s needs above their own. They know they can’t get it together enough to raise them, so they put them up for adoption. Other parents are selfish and refuse to give them up completely. They do more damage to the kids by floating in and out of their lives, while living in a stupor. The kids feel let down and grow up to retaliate. They take it out on society. They do the best they can here; I think they have a pretty good success rate. Occasionally, we get one who turns their life around to regain custody of the kids. They do all they can to help them out, but it’s ultimately up to the parent.”
Jessica stared pensively, and then impulsively bent over to kiss her mother on the cheek.
She beamed at her daughter. “What was that for?”
“I just love you. Every time we come here, I am more thankful to have
you for a mother. I don’t think I appreciate you enough until I see what these kids don’t have. Thank you for loving me, and thank you for giving up so much for me. I am the luckiest girl there ever was.”
Sarah smiled. She knew her daughter appreciated her, but it was always nice to be reminded.
“Okay then. Shall we have the usual for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’d like to say hello to Frank and Ally. They still make the best chicken salads I’ve ever had.”
“Even with all that fancy food you get in the city?”
“The city is fine, and the dining is superb,” she said, smiling affectionately at her mother. But nothing compares to country cooking in my old home town.”
She put the car in gear and zoomed out of the parking lot with Sarah laughing all the way.
**********
CHAPTER 7
Two days before their scheduled departure, Jessica still had not heard from Brandon. Neither, for that matter, had Phillip Stewart attempted to contact her. Was he playing some kind of game? She wondered, as she went about the task of packing for her trip. She had attempted, on several occasions, to contact Brandon; he never seemed to be available.
A knocking on the door startled her. She rushed to open it, hoping to find Brandon on the other side. Her expression turned solemn as she found instead, Phillip Stewart standing there. He had never attempted to contact her at her home before. He stood there at the door, straight and tall, glowering at her.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in? It isn’t polite to leave someone standing upon your doorstep.”
She stuck her head out the door, glancing quickly about.
“Still worried about someone seeing us together?” he chided.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Stewart? And how did you find out where I live?”
“Please, I have asked you at least a hundred times to call me Phillip. And finding you wasn’t difficult. I simply called information.”
“I only address my friends by their given names. Snakes and weasels get called by their sir names,” she retorted.
This statement brought a bout of laughter rolling from within him.
“I do so enjoy these sparring matches. You have some of the wittiest things to say.”
He glanced around the apartment, nodding his agreement.
“Exquisite,” he commented. “You have superb taste. Perhaps I could coax you into adding a few touches to my place.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she spat. “You haven’t told me what you want, Mr. Stewart.”
“Now, now, there’s no need to get hostile. It’s been a couple of weeks since we last spoke; I wanted to check up on things. Now that things are almost finished, I thought I might accompany you on your California trip. I’m sure there are several last minute decisions to be made. I think we should consult on them.”
She stood opposing him, arms crossed in front of her, teeth clenched tightly together.
“I think not, Mr. Stewart. I do not desire, nor do I require, your company on this trip. I have a perfectly competent staff at my disposal. Any decisions that need to be made, I can make myself. And, if by some chance I need your input, there is always the telephone, and those wonderful, convenient, hand-held tracking devices, known as cell phones. I suppose that if I really get desperate, I can send you a telegram. In fact, just for humor, I’ll make it a singing one.”
He grinned, despite his anger. “You seem to forget one thing; I am ultimately in charge here. I make the decisions, call all the shots, the whole kit and caboodle, head honcho, etc., you get the point?”
“Not this time.”
They both turned toward the doorway. Brandon stood there, defiant. He had heard them arguing all the way down the hallway. Jessica’s heart fluttered when she saw him there. He looked much like a knight from some mythological story. She ran to his side.
“Ah, Mr. Brandon Phillips, I presume. I’ve heard a lot about you. I was wondering when we would have the pleasure of meeting.”
“Believe me, Mr. Stewart, it’s no pleasure. I’ve heard a rumor that you have threatened to ruin me. Well, I’ve just come to warn you that I don’t take kindly to threats like that.”
Phillip turned to Jessica, his grin returning. “Oh, come now, Jessica, you had to go running to the boyfriend to tattle. Somehow I thought higher of you than that.” He turned back to Brandon. “I suppose you think you have the power to stop me,” he choked out between bouts of hearty laughter.
He stopped laughing when Brandon waved a handful of papers in the air.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Phillip glanced nervously between the papers Brandon held in his hand, to Brandon standing staring at him with hatred and victory in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you think you have there. But whatever it is, I think you underestimate my power. I’m not intimidated by you.”
“What you see here in my hand, are several newspaper clippings and a copy of an arrest warrant from the State of Illinois for a Mr. Everett Watkins.”
He pretended innocence, but Jessica could see the sweat begin to form around his eyes and across his forehead. He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped casually at his brow. He shrugged his shoulder, but his hands shook.
“I fail to see why an arrest warrant for Everett Watkins would concern me,” he said with less conviction than he would like them both to believe.
“Well, the resemblance in the photos of the person posing for this camera is remarkably like you. Oh, I admit there are some differences, but allowing for the age and quality of the photo could easily explain that.”
It was Brandon’s turn to grin now. He tapped the photo playfully, his voice taking on a teasing charm. “I’ve done some checking up on you, Mr. Stewart. I found it quite strange that none of my sources could find any trace of a background on you. In fact, I had almost given up.” He glanced at Jessica, smiling tenderly at her.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing you. I was sick with anger; it ate at me day and night. Then the thought occurred to me: if a man has no past, then that man surely must not exist.” He turned back to Phillip and said, “I used all the material I’d gathered on you. You’d be surprised how much information you can learn about someone these days, especially if you know the right people. I used this information to have a friend of mine, who happens to have access to the big computers with the Feds, see what he could find out.”
He walked to Phillip, getting mere inches from his face. “Do you know what he discovered?” He waited, but Phillip didn’t answer. He just sneered back at him. “Well, I’m waiting for an answer.” When Phillip still didn’t answer he continued, “I’ll tell you what he discovered. He discovered that this Mr. Watkins fellow is wanted by the State of Illinois for the suspicious death of one Mary Watkins.”
Phillip exploded with laughter. “Come now, Phillips. You’re threatening me with your suspicions of me being a different person. That’s it, that’s your big ‘Ace in the pocket’?” He glowered. “You have no proof of these lies.”
Brandon shrugged in a, who cares sort of way. “Perhaps I don’t, but are you willing to risk everything because your inferior male ego won’t allow you to accept no from a beautiful woman. Surely Mr. Stewart, this woman’s attentions can’t be worth all that.”
Jessica nudged him in the ribs. He winced before continuing, “I’m sure the Illinois police would be willing to listen to me enough to at least begin an investigation, wouldn’t you think so?”
He laughed again, although a little less confidently this time, and sauntered to the door, turning at the last minute. “Be careful, Phillips. When your back is down and you least expect it, I will strike. I don’t accept defeat graciously.”
He left the apartment, slamming the door behind him, making the walls shake.
Brandon pulled Jessica into his arms the minute the door had closed and stroked her head.
“Are yo
u okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
She shook her head and walked silently to the sofa. “Only my pride.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“When my father left us, I swore that I would never be dependent upon a man for anything. I made myself a promise that I would always do whatever was necessary to protect myself, without the help of a man. I honestly don't know what I would have done without you today. It seems lately, I’ve become dependent on you for a lot of things.”
He held her tightly, softly kissing the top of her head.
“Everybody needs somebody for one thing or another, sometime in their life. It’s part of life. We can’t exist solely on our own; God made us to be mates, to support each other in good times, and in bad. Jessie, I don’t doubt your ability to take care of yourself. I intended to give this information to you, so you could use it against Stewart. I didn’t know he was going to be here. I was surprised to find him here. You stood up to him quite well. But even though, you need to learn to lean on me, just as I need to know I can lean on you.”
She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. “Do you really think I could have taken him on?”
He laughed softly. “Better than almost any man I know, most of whom wouldn’t even have the courage to stand up to a man like Phillip Stewart. Quite honestly, I’m glad you’re strong and self-sufficient, because I would much rather you need me for other things.”
He kissed her hard on the lips. She understood his meaning well. His kiss melted into hers, they became lost in their own world. The sweetness of the kiss erased all thoughts from their minds, except each other.
Finally, breathless, he pulled away. Passion and love glowed in his eyes and he lay down on the sofa, pulling her next to him. He cradled her body gently against his, kissing away all traces of tears. Eventually they drifted into a deep sleep.
Coveting Love (Jessica Crawford) Page 13