A Child is Torn: Innocence Lost (20 page)

“Oh, my God. This is so embarrassing.”

He laughed, his dimples becoming more pronounced. “You’re embarrassed? How about me? Real sexy, having my girl getting caught in my bedroom by my father. Now that’s embarrassing!”

She took a deep breath as he started to open the door and his hand touched the small of her back. He led her down the steps and into the kitchen.

The Captain was sitting at the kitchen table reading the sports section of the daily paper. “Morning.” He started to rise.

“Sit, Pop. I got it.” Marty took two cups out of the cabinet and poured them both fresh cups.

“How you feeling, Hope?” The Captain asked as he laid the paper down.

“Much better. Thanks, Mr. Keal.”

“Please, Hope. Call me Captain, or Ryan.”

“Captain, then,” she said, making her decision.

Marty placed the cup in front of Hope. “Thanks,” she said appreciatively.

“Would you like me to scramble up some eggs?” said the Captain. He turned from Hope to Marty. “Would just take a few minutes.”

“No, thanks—Captain.” She glanced down at her watch. “I really have to run. I need to get to work. I want to check in on Brad and Scottie.” She sucked down the last of her coffee, though it was still hot enough to burn her throat.

“Thanks so much for dinner. I had a wonderful evening,” she said, pushing her chair away from the table and standing up.

Marty followed her lead and standing up himself, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Well, I expect to see you again soon, Hope. How about joining us for Thanksgiving? That is, if you can take the noise and chaos.” The Captain added.

“Um, I…” Hope started to answer.

Marty realized she was caught off guard. He could understand her hesitation; it was traditionally a family event with, perhaps, a crowd of thirty or so people—most of them squabbling children under the age of eighteen. Before he could find an excuse for her, the Captain spoke.

“Justin and Diane are coming, if that makes the idea any more appealing.”

“I would love to Captain, but my mother likes to prepare Thanksgiving and… my brother and his family are going to my sister-in- law’s and, um, she’d be alone…” She began to stammer.

“Well then, it’s settled. Bring your mom.”

Marty saw the panic on her face.

“Captain,” he said. He was shaking his head behind Hope, trying to signal his dad to drop the subject.

“Well you consider it, okay Hope? We’d love to have you both. Like I said, if you can handle the craziness.”

“Okay, Captain.Will do.” She turned to Marty who was holding her jacket out for her to get into. Outside, a fresh dusting of snow had fallen, and with each step they took they left new imprints with their boots.

“Hey, just take it slow, okay? I’m sure no one will care if you’re a few minutes late.”

“Yes sir!” She gave him a salute, mocking him.

He planted one last kiss on her lips. “Go,” he told her, “before I haul you back upstairs for a rerun of last night.” She grinned and got into the car.

He stood in the road watching her taillights as she disappeared around the curve, his fingers tap dancing on this thigh.

Chapter Eleven

Jean

A sticky note on her desk informed her that Dr. Rubin had returned her call the evening before. Squinting, she glanced at her watch. 8:30.
Too early to call
, she told herself. She got up to see if she could scavenge a full cup of coffee from the carafe. Deciding she would rather make a fresh pot, she poured the little bit that was left into the sink. Pulling out a new filter, she set about making some fresh coffee.

Next thing she knew, Moran was standing beside her. She jumped.

“God, Moran. Do I need to hang a cowbell around your neck? You scared the shit out of me.”

He motioned for her to look behind her.

“Watch this,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

She looked up, but didn’t see anything. Within seconds, Hennessey and Stevens walked in the room. The lack of color in Hennessey’s face piqued her curiosity. She couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, so she moved closer, trying to remain inconspicuous.

It was Stevens she heard first. “And you don’t remember this broad?”

“No man, I swear. I can’t believe this crap! What the hell am I going to do?”

The conversation began to fade as the two men walked to the back of the office and out of earshot.

Jean glanced over at Moran who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Seeing that Jean was about to speak, he put his finger to his lips, motioning for her to wait. He glanced at the two men out of the corner of his eye, making sure they were out of hearing range.

“What’s going on?” Jean demanded.

“I got tired of them busting our chops, so…”

“So?” she said, squinting.

“Do you need glasses? You know you’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He narrowed his eyes, imitating her.

“Moran, are you going to tell me or what?” she snapped.

“You know Millie in Robbery?”

She nodded.

“Well they’ve been busting her chops too, so
…
well she’s got this friend who lives in Boston
—
”

“Yeah?” She was getting impatient.

“You remember how a few months ago, Hennessey went to that Yankee game in Boston? Bragged about how he partied so hard, he couldn’t even remember half the weekend?”

“Yeah, so?”

He started to laugh. “Well, Millie had this friend call up Hennessey and tell him that he’s going to be a father.”

Jean stared at him. Stevens and Hennessey were still deep in conversation in the back; Hennessey’s color still hadn’t come back.

Turning back to Moran, she joined him when he broke into a hearty laugh.

“I love it!” she beamed at Moran. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. I hope he’s freaking out.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

The ringing of her desk phone grabbed her attention, and she reluctantly walked back to her desk to answer it.

“Jean, its Hope, returning your call. How are you?”

Jean sat down on top of her desk, still trying to get a glimpse of Hennessey.

“Hi Hope. Thanks for getting back to me.” She recapped her conversation with Brad’s paternal grandfather, and asked her what she thought about it.

Then it was Jean’s turn to listen as Hope explained Brad’s incident from the day before. Jean was speechless for a moment.

“Is the other boy hurt?”

As she was talking, she turned over the pink message pad on her desk and started to doodle. She realized she had drawn a stick figure of a pregnant woman. She crumbled up the picture, tossing it into the trashcan.

“More scared than hurt,” Hope replied. “I’m headed over to Brad’s room as soon I hang up with you. As for Mr. Madison… I don’t know what to make of it. From what you told me, and from what I’ve ascertained from the Ginns family, the other family
—
his father’s family
—
really had very little association with Brad. The grandfather’s attitude or personality shouldn’t have had much of an effect on Brad’s personality.”

“Well, thanks Hope. I appreciate the input. I just thought I would throw it out there, get your professional opinion.” Jean glanced up when she recognized Hennessey’s voice. Stevens and Hennessey were walking past her desk; the color had still not returned to the younger man’s face. Jean giggled to herself, enjoying the look of panic on his face. She imagined the confirmed bachelor fretting over the next eighteen years of child support. She brought her attention back to the phone.

“Thanks again for getting back to me. Maybe we can have lunch sometime soon.”

“Sounds good,” Hope replied. Jean hung up as she felt Moran’s arm on her shoulder.

“Come on, we have a call. Domestic, maybe murder-suicide.” Moran said.

 She grabbed her jacket, adjusted her side holster, and forgot about Hennessey and Brad’s grandfather as she followed Moran out the door.

Hope

I walked into the quiet room. Brad was sitting up with a blanket covering his legs, and his pajama top unbuttoned. Cindy was sitting on the edge of the bed showing him how to manipulate the strings in a cat’s cradle game. His eyes, still slightly dilated from the diazepam he’d been given, were slightly droopy. Though he appeared to be focusing, his eyes had a vacant look.

“Brad, hi. How are you feeling?” Cindy got up from the bed, and I took her place. She placed the string on the bed next to him. She quietly walked to the other side of the room and sat on the small table against the wall.

His back and shoulders had fallen into a slouch. Jack the monkey was by his side, and he put his hand out, his fingers reaching for it. I leaned over and, gently placed Jack onto Brad’s lap.

“Brad, can you look at me?” A few moments passed before I got a reaction.

He lifted his chin and looked at me as he sat back, leaning on the pillow. His body seemed to be wilting in surrender.

“Brad,” I repeated.

He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.

“We have to talk Brad. It’s important you tell me what happened. You want me to help you? Then, you have to talk to me.” I placed my hand on his knee. I felt him tremble under the blanket.

“Okay, Brad.” I took his silence to mean this wasn’t the right time. I got up, nodded to Cindy and started to walk out the door when I heard his weak voice.

“Am I crazy?” he asked. His eyes were now wide-opened and alert. He seemed to be pleading for an answer.

“Honey, what makes you ask that?” I sat back down, moved his leg gently, making room to sit. I noticed for the first time, he had a sprinkle of freckles on the top of his nose.

“I hurt people.” He started to sniffle. “I… my mom, I hurt my mom. I couldn’t stop Dr. Hope.” His tears were falling faster now. He tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand.

“You don’t know why? Does someone make you mad Brad? Did Scottie make you mad? Is that why you hit him? Did Scottie say something to make you angry?” I took a tissue from the box that sat on the table beside the bed and wiped the bottom of his nose.

He shook his head no.

“He didn’t say anything that made you mad? Are you sure?”

This time he nodded. “Dr. Hope?” He was mumbling through his sobs. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want my mom and dad back, and I want to go home. Please let me go home to my mom and dad.” He was sobbing uncontrollably now. I held him against my chest, rubbing his back, trying to sooth him.

It took a few minutes, but he was able to calm himself down.

“Brad, Brad—look at me.” I turned his shoulders so he was facing me. “Brad,” I waited for him to acknowledge me. “Brad, you know why you can’t go home?” I waited for some sign that he understood the question.

He touched the top of my hand with the hand that still clenched Jack. I felt the soft fur of the monkey as he rubbed his hand against mine.

“My mom and dad are dead. I hurt them. Dr. Hope, I didn’t mean to hurt them. My mommy…” He paused. “My dad… my dad and I were going to go to a Yankee game. I… I wish I knew how to stop it.”

“Stop what, Brad? Tell me what you need to stop.”

He shook his head, his nose beginning to run again. I wiped it gently.

He finally looked directly at me. His eyes were clearer now; the vacant looked had waned. “It… it just happens. Like, I get angry, and I don’t know why. Scottie didn’t do anything. He was just laughing about a cartoon, and I just hit him. He started to run, and I grabbed him and I kept hitting him. Like my mom, I just kept hitting her! I’m so scared. I like Scottie, Dr. Hope. He’s not mad at me, is he?”

“No, Brad. Scottie is going to be fine, and he’s not mad at you. We explained to Scottie that you didn’t mean to hurt him. Scottie’s a very bright little boy, and he knows, like I think you know, that each one of you has a problem. A problem that everyone here is trying to help you with. As a matter of fact, Scottie asked when you were coming back to the room.” A look of relief spread across his face. “He’s a good friend, Brad. I don’t think you have anything to worry about there.

“In the meantime, we’re going to give you some medicine to keep you calm, okay? Until we find out what is causing your outbursts of anger. It will help you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, I’ll have someone come in and get you some breakfast. It’s important you eat. I’ll come back later and you and I will talk some more. How’s that?”

His hand gave mine a slight squeeze before he let go.

“I love you, Dr. Hope.”

“I love you too, Brad,” I said, trying to keep my words from cracking with emotion. I glanced over at Cindy and she beamed at me. I put my hand on his shoulder, gave it a little squeeze, and walked out, closing the door behind me. I stopped and stood for a moment with my back against the wall. I took a deep breath before I continued my rounds.

Marty

Marty and Justin stopped off for a quick lunch at a sub shop in between calls. They had been trying to get together for a couple of weeks, but it had never worked out.

It was Hope who had kept him informed about what was going on in Justin’s life, through Diane. They’d been going hot and heavy ever since the night they had dinner at the Liars’ Den.

Both couples had tried on numerous occasions to arrange for the four of them to get together, but they never seemed to be available at the same time. Justin was driving into the city to be with Diane, and between computing back and forth and work, he hadn’t been able to catch up with Marty.

“God, I’m so looking forward to Thanksgiving,” Justin announced as he tore off a huge chunk of his meatball sub. “You want to hear something really weird? My parents and Diane’s mother are going to some church thing for Thanksgiving and they happen to be staying at the same hotel. Tell me that’s not weird.”

“Do they know each other?”

“They have acquaintances in common, but they really don’t know each other,” he mumbled around an enthusiastic bite of his sandwich.

“So, you really like Diane, huh?” Marty was still wondering whether Justin was more attracted to her position at work or to the lady herself.

Justin wiped some sauce from the corner of his mouth.

“You know what, Marty?” He paused, taking a sip of his coke and let out a loud belch. He smiled proudly. “I think… well, we’ve been talking about getting married.”

Marty was shell-shocked. He choked on a mouth full of soda, spraying the brown liquid. Justin jumped back in his seat, trying to avoid the sticky shower.

“Excuse me?” Marty sputtered. He shook his head. “I could swear I heard you mention the word marriage.”

“I did, Marty,” replied Justin, suddenly stoic.

“You’re shitting me?”

“No man, dead serious. We’ve been talking about it, really talking about it. You know, we have some things to work out, though. Like where we would live. I mean, we thought about getting a place in Westchester or something, kind of halfway between here and the city so neither of us would have to change jobs. I mean, neither of us wants to commute two hours every day for work.”