by Renee Miller
“I can’t read, all right.” His cheeks burned. Saying the words felt degrading. “I mean, I can read some, but it gets twisted sometimes, especially when I’m nervous.”
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I have a couple guys here who can’t read more than their names.”
Ronny relaxed and moved closer to the desk. If he could convince Brad to hire him, he and Amy could leave his parents’ house. She was so strange lately. All he wanted to do was to take her and run, but Social Services wouldn’t let him without a job that didn’t involve him being gone all the time. “I can read; it just takes me a while. I didn’t have enough time and I really need this job, so I got worked up. After that, it was impossible.”
“Okay, in the future, I’ll either give you more time for things like that or we can do it orally.”
“What do you mean?”
“From time to time the government requires tests. First aid, safety training, tickets for certain equipment, you know…upgrades and shit. If you need to do one of these, I’ll read the questions and you’ll answer. I’ll record your answers, you sign it, and it’s done.”
“Can you do that?” Ronny scowled, afraid to get his hopes up.
“What the government boys don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“So, I have the job?”
Brad pulled out another sheet of paper from under the pile on the corner of his desk. “Yep. This is the address of the job site and your foreman’s name and number. Show up Monday at six AM with a hard hat and work boots and he’ll get you sorted.”
Ronny took the paper. “Okay. So, when do I start?”
“As soon as you can. You’ll begin with flagging, until you know the ropes. After that, I need a water and sewer guy, but my foreman will fill you in on all that and it depends on where he feels your strengths are. Pay starts at the industry minimum, which is better than the government wage, and you also get limited benefits after three months.”
Ronny barely heard him; his thoughts were on Amy, and moving on with his life. Despite having to give a large chunk of his pay to his dad, he’d saved enough cash to get a small place.
“All right then,” Brad stood and extended his hand. “Welcome to Double B Construction.”
Ronny shook his hand, muttered a quick goodbye, and rushed out of the office. This was the first good thing to happen in more than a year. As he walked out to the small parking lot, Ronny whistled. The sun seemed a little brighter. He crossed the street to his truck. Maybe he and Amy would be okay.
—
“What do you mean I can’t take her?” Rage, white hot, boiled beneath the surface as Ronny confronted Gerard, Amy’s latest caseworker.
“Exactly what I said, Mr. Sampson.”
Gerard, a fat little prick with an ego the size of the Atlantic, frowned, but Ronny could tell he was thrilled to hand him the bad news. In an effort to remain calm, Ronny stared at a dusty rubber plant behind Gerard’s chair.
Gerard shuffled his papers and cleared his throat, bringing Ronny’s attention back to him. “It’s wonderful that you’ve found suitable employment, but the child needs stability and a job alone does not ensure she’ll be better off than where she is right now. You haven’t even cared for her on your own for more than a day at a time. We cannot in good conscience allow you to take her permanently.”
Ronny slammed his fist on the table. “This is bullshit. I’m her father.”
Gerard had the good sense to jump and sit straighter in his chair. He coughed and folded his hands in front of him.
The room was small, barely big enough to fit the round table they sat at. If Ronny wanted to, he could wipe the floors with him in a second, there was nowhere for the jackass to run to, except out the window. Instead, he took a breath and tried to plead his case. “I’ve done everything they told me to. I changed my job, I got a place, and I haven’t been into drugs for more than a year, not even a fucking aspirin. Now you tell me I’m not stable enough? Have you met my old man? Do you want to see the scars from his parenting?”
“People make mistakes, and those were different times, I’m sure. We’ve been watching Amy closely. So far she seems in good health and is a happy well-adjusted child.”
“She doesn’t talk, hates strangers, and she cries whenever anyone looks at her. Last week I caught her trying to stuff their cat in the oven while it was on. That’s not normal.”
“Four-year-olds often do strange things out of curiosity. The cat survived?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point.”
“It may be her way of acting out. Her situation is unique. Her mother is gone. You do see her, but it’s sporadic at best and she lives with elderly grandparents. She’s expected to show her frustration somehow.”
“Yeah, but that’s not normal. How can you tell me living with them is better?”
“I know this is difficult for you, and I wish I could allow her to be with you. You’re her father after all, as you said. Really, I don’t enjoy this.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“The fact is, she is in a two-parent household, a loving home… I can’t remove her to an unstable environment where strangers will care for her while you’re working.”
Gerard shuffled papers around, end of discussion apparently.
“I’ve quit trucking. I’ve found a job that’s close by. I’ll have an apartment too, with a bedroom for Amy, which she doesn’t have at my parents’ house. I’ve been with her every spare minute I’ve had. If I could take her more than one night here and there, I would, but they won’t let me.”
“Okay, here’s the thing,” Gerard motioned for Ronny to sit.
Reluctantly, he did so.
“Most judges don’t consider a single father a suitable caregiver; they don’t like single parent homes of any kind. Given your history, and that of Amy’s mother, the judge in this case would rather keep her where she is rather than risk putting her in danger again. Considering the accusations made by your ex—”
“I proved those were false.”
“Still, single father alone with a little girl…”
“You better not finish that sentence.”
Gerard sighed. “I have to remind you that you did sign over guardianship to your parents. They have filed for adoption and the court is going to consider that route too, so you need to establish that you will be able to provide her with a safe, stable environment for them to give custody back to you. These things take time.”
Ronny clenched his fists; fucking Vicki had ruined his life. It wasn’t enough that she walked out, but she had to drag him down while she did it.
Gerard smiled. “I like you.”
Ronny snorted.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I do. I feel for you. It’s a tough situation you’re in. I’m willing to stick my neck out for you and petition the court for more than the visitation you have now.”
“How much more?”
“It means that every weekend or alternate weekends, depending on what they’ll allow; you’ll be able to have Amy in your care by yourself. Sort of a test, to prove you can care for her on your own. After a year or so of this, I’m sure the judge will see things your way.”
“A year? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”
“It’s bullshit. That’s what it is.”
“Along with increased visitation,” Gerard continued, “I suggest you begin to pay your parents some sort of child support to show your good intentions.”
“I have been paying them. Every fucking week they get almost all of my money.”
“Did you give them cash?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Start writing them checks. Then you have a record. Everything is about paperwork; you’ve got to have proof.” Gerard stood.
“Fuck.” Ronny stood also and ran a hand through his hair. This was a nightmare. “All right, what do I have to do to get this visitation?”
“I’ll
start proceedings and I’ll call you with a court date.”
Ronny nodded and went to the door.
Gerard passed him into the hall and turned. “We can work this out. I’m not against you.”
“You’d be the only one,” Ronny grumbled.
CHAPTER 18
Within a week of the night Dana left everything behind, Catherine helped her find an apartment, although convincing Roger to help her pay for it had been no small task. Dana caught discussions they hadn’t meant for her to hear. Roger thought they should wait and make sure she didn’t go back to Garrett, but Catherine argued Dana would go back if she didn’t get out on her own and build some confidence.
Catherine had been right. Dana enjoyed her new freedom, of becoming her own person. She unpacked and made the place her own, even if it was a cramped and shabby little one-bedroom apartment.
Garrett wasn’t pleasant when he came to see the kids, but he hadn’t been violent either. He’d even told her to call his mom instead of paying for a babysitter.
Opal agreed to watch the kids, though only at her house. A few days after leaving Garrett, Dana had taken the kids to see Opal, who immediately launched into a lecture on what God expected Dana to do. “Marriage is forever. You don’t just quit because you hit a rough patch; you do what you need to do to fix things.”
“Garrett kicked me out. He tried to kill me. I know he’s your son, but don’t you think that says the marriage is over?”
“He wouldn’t have done it.”
“So, I should just pretend it’s okay to traumatize me and the kids like that?”
“As his wife, it’s your job to learn how to live with his quirks. Luke was no picnic either. O’Brien men are passionate and, sometimes, hot-headed. I’ve had my share of broken bones, and bruises. But I never gave up and we’re good now; he hasn’t raised his hand to me in years, because I learned to be the wife he needed.”
“You mean you learned to be his slave?” Dana asked, dumbfounded at Opal’s acceptance.
“No. I know my place and I stay in it. A man should be in charge of his household. How can you expect Garrett to treat you with love and kindness when you don’t show him respect? A man can tolerate a lot of things, Dana, but he cannot condone someone stealing his pride. Garrett provides for you, he protects you, and I think asking for a little deference in return is only to be expected.”
She had laughed. “I can’t believe you think this is normal.”
“You made your bed, Dana O’Brien, and God expects you to lie in it. You can’t just run off at the slightest argument. That’s what’s wrong with people nowadays. No one respects marriage vows and no one is willing to work through the hard times. For better or for worse that’s what you promised. It’s the way things are supposed to be, the way they’ve always been. I don’t know how you can look at those children knowing the pain you’re causing their father.”
“I can’t live that way,” Dana said. “How can you let someone tell you what your place is? It’s not up to anyone but you. Jesus, Opal, I’m not causing him any pain he didn’t bring on himself. He’s sick. Don’t you see that? He threw Devon against a wall. He hates his own son.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense and you know it. What Garrett can’t stomach is how soft you’ve made Devon.” Opal crossed her arms, pinning Dana with an accusatory glare. “You’ve disobeyed him by refusing to raise his children as he expects and you continually do things to anger him. He’s not a monster. The Lord, not Garrett, has decreed how marriage is to be, and you refuse to accept it. Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t make this up. It’s in the Bible. In Corinthians, it clearly states “For the man is not of the woman; but the woman of the man. Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man.”
“The trouble is that your mother let you run wild. But you can learn, so can Devon, and I’m sure Garrett would let you come home if you tried.”
Dana had left it there. Arguing with Opal about her son was pointless.
Now, as the early morning sunlight filtered through the blinds to cast a striped pattern on the floor, she wondered if it’d be easier to go back to him. He definitely didn’t make it easy for her to stay away. Sighing, she stood from the battered couch her sister had dragged up from her basement. She wandered around the apartment, touching the chipped paint on the small window in the living room and stepping over boxes piled in the middle of the room, while she waited for her Dad to come and move her again.
Garrett had shown up, drunk and pissed as hell, beaten her and left when a neighbor intervened. She reported it to the police, but because of the kids, a restraining order did little. He’d been careful not to touch them since the night she left, and was told by the police that he had a legal right to see them.
Cursing herself for not reporting his earlier abuse of Devon, she took a police officer’s advice and found a more secure place she could barely afford just to ensure he couldn’t show up on her doorstep unannounced when the mood struck him.
The rattling of her Dad’s pickup sounded outside, she braced herself for the loud backfire that usually preceded it stalling out but it didn’t come. He must’ve fixed it, finally.
Dana opened the door to Devon and Hayley’s room. Inside they sat on the bottom bunk of their bed, staring back. She smiled as brightly as she could. “Grandpa’s here. You guys ready?”
“Yeah.” Devon slid off the bare mattress and held his hand out for his little sister.
She pushed him away. “Me do it,” she grumbled and slid onto the floor to land on her bottom.
Hayley found a stubborn streak over the past two months. Although Dana wanted to encourage her independence, it was frustrating that she insisted on doing everything by herself. Sometimes it’d be faster, and easier, if she’d just let Dana or her brother help.
“Dana?” her dad called from the front door.
She ushered the kids out of the room. “Coming.”
“Gappa!” Hayley ran to his outstretched arms.
Dana knelt and picked up a box. When she tried to pass him on her way out the door, he touched her arm “I think you need to take him to court. He shouldn’t be around these kids.”
“I can’t take them from him. They need to know their father, and Garrett has a right to see them.”
“He gave up any such right when he laid hands on Devon. He’ll never stop hurting you, but I guess that’s something you need to realize. I just hope it doesn’t cost more than you can afford to pay.”
He walked away bouncing Hayley on his hip.
Devon followed, but turned around after a few steps, a frown in his face. “Are we moving back to Dad’s?”
“No, we have a new apartment. I told you that. But someday, maybe Daddy and I can work things out. Would you like that?”
“I’ll live with Granny if you go back.”
“You can’t live with Granny.”
“Then I’ll run away and live with strangers. I hate him. He hates me. I know it. You hate me too if you want to make me go back there.” Tears streaked his cheeks.
“I love you more than anything. I thought you’d want to go home, to be a family again.”
“I don’t. Neither does Hayley. He wants you and me dead, Mom.”
“He was really sorry for hurting you, honey.”
“He’s tricking you.”
“No, Devon. He’s sick.”
“Well, I don’t care. You make me go back and I’ll hate you forever and ever.” Devon crossed his arms over his small chest.
Under the anger, she saw the terror at the idea of being with his father again, and she finally admitted to herself that they could never go back.
CHAPTER 19
Slouching down in the seat of the car, Garrett sipped his beer. He glanced at the crumpled paper in his hand with Dana’s new phone number and address in his mother’s neat scrawl. She thought a little door and a buzzer would keep him from his family?
He tried to teach her. She refused to lear
n.
There were no curtains on Dana’s windows. Other than what he assumed was the kids’—with a colorful blanket over it—he could see into every room. She passed through the living room, then her shadow filled the blanketed window. The light went out, and she surfaced again in the kitchen.
All he wanted to do was take care of her.
The kitchen window went dark, then the living room. Garrett checked his watch, only nine thirty. She probably had to work in the morning.
One by one, the lights in the rest of the building went out. At midnight, he opened the car door, stretched, and stood, his legs wobbly. He walked to the entrance. In the lobby, Garrett searched the list of names and tried one on the top floor.
“Yes?” a man’s voice, thickened by sleep, answered. Harvey Olsen’s if the little sticker was correct.
“Hey man, sorry,” Garrett said. “I forgot my keys. I can’t get into my car and I’m already late for work.”
“You can’t buzz your own apartment?”
Miserable old shit, this Harvey. “I would but there’s no one there. I’ve already buzzed a bunch of others, but no one’s answering. I’m gonna lose my job.”
Silence, then the door buzzed. Garrett opened it. He climbed the stairs to Dana’s floor and then found 503. Her apartment was at the top of the stairs. Left and right, the hallway wrapped around to the either side. Garrett neared the door and paused. Though tempted to kick it in, he knocked instead. He then moved to stand away from the peephole.
Shuffling inside, then a bump. Garrett felt dizzy, his excitement mounting. Her body rustled against the door. The lock slid, knob turning. He slipped a hand in his pocket to make sure the gun was still there. Dana peeked around the door, gasped, and then tried to close it again.
Too late.
Garrett blocked it with his foot, shouldering himself the rest of the way. The force of the swinging door hurled her against the opposite wall. Her head cracked the boards; pieces of plaster rained on the floor. She staggered forward.
“Garrett, stop. You’re scaring the kids.”
“Good. Then you can explain why you won’t let us be together, why you took everything away from me.”