Leaving Yesterday (25 page)

“Will they be mad?”

I nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid they will.”

“Mommy, you can’t—I won’t let you. I won’t let you go.” She launched herself at me and wrapped her arms tight around me. “I’m not letting you go to jail.”

“I don’t think I’ll go to jail. But Daddy will be here to take care of you, even if I do.”

“Nooooo! Noooo! I hate Daddy. If you go tell the police to put you and Kurt in jail, then I hate you, too.” She ran out of the kitchen. I heard the thud of her feet as she ran up the stairs and the slam of her bedroom door as it closed behind her.

The weight of the words, of what was before me, pressed against me so hard, I didn’t think I could lift myself from my chair. I braced my palms against the table, used my arms and legs to push myself upright, and somehow managed to move forward. I used the handrails to pull myself up the stairs, one at a time, toward Caroline’s room. I turned the knob but wasn’t surprised it was locked. “Caroline, open the door.”

For the space of a full minute there was no sound at all. I was just about to issue a more forceful order when I heard the slip of the lock. She opened the door and looked at me, eyes already red and puffy. She threw her arms around me. “Please don’t go, Mama, please don’t go.”

Thirty-Three

At five o’clock Monday morning, I reached over and turned off my alarm. I supposed the bright side about not being able to sleep was not having to wake up to a loud buzzing sound. I looked at the unmoving lump in the covers next to me, the wisps of sandy curls that stuck out from beneath the blanket, and how I wished I could go back and change things. What I wouldn’t give to be able to erase the memory of Caroline’s tears, the absolutely brokenhearted wailing that had finally silenced into sleep sometime after midnight.

The day I chose to get rid of the bat, I had never imagined that this awful morning would come. If I could turn back the time, maybe I would have done things differently.

But even now, as I remembered the smell of sulfur from the moment when I struck the match against the side of the box, I could still feel my desperation. My son needed a chance, and I had to make certain he got one. Would I be able to make a different choice now?

I padded down the stairs and went into the kitchen. If this was going to be the last morning I spent with my daughter, then I was going to make it a breakfast to remember. I mixed pancake batter, scrambled eggs, put in a couple of extra pieces of bacon. Soon the entire house smelled like … well, like a happy home. It was amazing how the scents of favorite foods could have that effect. I realized that after this moment I would never smell bacon with the same affection I had for the last forty-five years. It would always remind me of this day. Of the end of everything.

I heard the clomp of Caroline’s footsteps coming down the stairs. She appeared in the kitchen a moment later, dressed in a red velvet jumper, white tights, and black patent shoes. This was not an outfit my tomboy would ever put on of her own free will. In fact, getting her to wear it to the Christmas Eve service had taken begging, pleading, and downright threats. “Don’t you look pretty.” I kept my tone noncommittal because I wasn’t sure exactly what she was up to, and I wanted to leave all my options open.

“Yep.” She sniffed the air. “Smells good. What did you make?”

“Come see.” I set a plate at her seat, and within seconds she had popped a piece of bacon in her mouth. “Mmm.”

I took a small bite of bacon, but it almost made me gag. Regret filled my stomach until there was no room for anything else.

“I figured I needed to look nice for the police station.” She said the words matter-of-factly, but she stared at me with all-out defiance in her eyes. She had made up her mind and had no plans to back down.

“Oh, sweetie.” I went to her and wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in the hair that still stood on end from a rough night’s sleep. “That makes me so happy to know that you would go with me if you could.”

“What do you mean, if I could? Of course I can. I’m coming with you, and that’s final.” Her use of the same words I often threw at her would have been comical had it not been so altogether heartbreaking.

“Sweetie, you can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me today. I don’t think I could stand it if I didn’t know that you were safe at school, and then safely home with Daddy.”

She started crying, every bit as hard as she had last night. “Please don’t make me go to school today. Please, I want to go with you. Please let me go to the police station with you.” She wrapped both arms and legs around me. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

“Oh, honey.” I held her tight while my own tears poured over her. “I love you so much. I love you so much.” Somewhere during this, I ended up sitting on the floor with her in my lap, our arms woven around each other like a safety net—one we both knew would not be able to hold.

What had I done?

After a long time I pulled back. “Come on, let’s brush your hair and your teeth and then I’ll walk you to school.”

“I’m not going.” Her arms went around my neck again.

“You’ve got to, baby. You’ve got to. Don’t worry, though. Daddy will be there to pick you up when you get out.”

“I don’t want to stay with Daddy. I want to go with you.”

I reached up and pried her arms away from my neck, then stood up and away from her. It took more strength than I knew I possessed. “Come on, you’re already late.”

She grabbed for me, but I backed away and pointed toward the stairs. “Brush your hair and your teeth. Now!”

She burst into a fresh bout of tears and ran up the stairs. I wanted to follow her, to spend every available second with her, but I knew she’d be more likely to finish what she was supposed to do if I wasn’t in her line of sight. A couple of minutes later she came down the stairs, her hair slightly less tousled than before. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and looked up at me with a defiant look, but her lower jaw was trembling. “You said you’d walk me to school.”

I reached down and scooped her up into my arms, and proceeded to carry her the block and a half to school. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. I could sense the stares coming from the cars that were making the drop-off circuit through the parking lot, but I didn’t care. The two of us needed each other now, and there was nothing to be ashamed of in that.

The tardy bell rang with twenty yards still left to go, so I went straight to the office to sign her in. As soon as I signed on the appropriate line, I went to set her down. She started screaming. “I’m not staying, I’m not staying, I want to come with you.”

I knelt down at eye level. “Sweetie, I need you to be strong for me. You’re all in the world I’ve got left. I can’t make it if you won’t help me.”

The school secretary watched this scene unfold over the lenses of half-glasses. She stood from her desk. “Good morning, Caroline. Why don’t I walk you to your class?”

I nodded at my daughter and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You need to go with her. I’ll see you soon.”

Caroline reached a trembling hand up and took the secretary’s, but she shuffled through the door still turned, still staring at me.

Thirty-Four

My legs had become stones, but somehow I managed to force them to bend, lift, move, and step by heavy step, propel me back to my house. I collapsed at the kitchen table, put my head on my folded arms, and prayed out everything in my heart. “I blew it, God. I know I blew it. This is my fault. I know I shouldn’t have covered up and lied in the first place. But, God, how could I not do everything in my power to give my son a chance? Wouldn’t you do everything in your power …” The rest of the thought died in my throat.

Somewhere deep inside me, I heard the ringing of the hammer against nail, the thud of nail against flesh, and the splitting of the wood as the nails were driven in. I saw a Son’s face, contorted in agony, awaiting a slow and painful death. I thought of the Father who didn’t save Him, although He could have done so with complete integrity. Instead, He left Him there to pay someone else’s penalty. Mine.

I, on the other end of the spectrum, had been willing to sacrifice someone else to save my son, the one who deserved the punishment. It was so against everything God stood for that I wondered He hadn’t knocked me dead by now.

“God, I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I’ve done everything wrong, everything the way that you wouldn’t want me to do it. Please forgive me. I’m so grateful your Son shed his blood so I could be washed clean from sins just like this. Please take care of Caroline. And Kurt. And Rick, too.”

I’d always heard people telling stories about things like this, and right about now they always said something to the effect of “The Spirit of God washed over me and filled me with complete peace,” but that’s not how it happened for me. There wasn’t a single ounce of peace anywhere to be found inside me.

I stood up, picked up my keys and purse, and walked out the garage door to where my car waited to take me to my fate. I pressed the garage door opener, climbed into the driver’s side of my car, and started the ignition. The song on the Christian radio station was something about being more than overcomers, but I reached over and flipped it off. I needed silence now.

Rap. Rap. Rap

The sudden knocking at the passenger-side window startled me. I looked over to see Lacey, her hair perfectly styled so that it gently rounded into a single curl just at her shoulder, completely absent of headbands, bows, or sequins. She was wearing a navy blue suit, and I could see what looked like the handle of a briefcase in her hand. I used the power button to roll down the window. “What are you doing here?”

“You paid me a retainer, remember? I’m your lawyer, and as such, I say you can’t go do this alone. Now, open the door and let me in. We’ve got an appointment downtown.”

I hit the power locks, but even as she was relaxing into her seat, I said, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I don’t. I want to. If ever there was a woman naïve as to the way the law works, it’s you. It would be like throwing Daniel into the lions’ den if I let you go down there alone.”

I looked at her and smiled. “I hate to break the news to you, Lacey, but it wasn’t a lawyer who saved Daniel, it was God.”

“Yeah, well, and if God wants to keep your mouth shut at the appropriate times like He supposedly did with those lions, then that will make my job all that much easier, now, won’t it?”

I reached across and hugged her. “You’re the best.”

“So they tell me.”

I backed the car out the driveway and started on the journey I did not want to take. I was glad that Lacey was in the car with me, in part just to answer the questions I thought I knew the answer to but wasn’t sure.

“What’s going to happen today? After I tell them, I mean? Will they arrest me and lock me up?”

“Well, that could go either way. They’ll likely turn it over to the DA for now, but there is the possibility they will go ahead and lock you up today, to use you as bait.”

“Bait?”

“You’re a tiny player in this whole big opera. They want the big dogs, and in this particular case the dogs don’t get any bigger than the boy who swung the bat. I’m guessing they will suppose that if they lock you up long enough, Kurt will be more willing to show his face at the station.”

I wondered where Kurt was now, if he had made it across one border or the other yet. I hoped he was far enough away that he would never find out I was bait. I didn’t want him to do anything because of me. He was gone, and I was here to face my part in this. That’s all I could do.

We parked on Garden Street and walked around the corner to the imposing three-story white building that housed the police department. I stood at the bottom of the long procession of concrete stairs that led up from the street level and took a deep breath. I looked at Lacey. “I’m ready.”

“Not quite, you’re not. You seem to be forgetting something. Or someone, that is.” Kurt’s voice came from behind me.

I spun around and faced him. “Kurt! What are you doing here?”

“I knew you were coming here this morning, so I’ve been sitting on a bench across the street just waiting for you. I’m going in there to face this with you.”

“But … I thought you were going to leave town.”

He shook his head. “And leave my mother to face this battle alone? Besides, Dad was always telling me I needed to man up. Well, if ever there was a time to man up, I’d say this is it. How about you?”

I reached out and hugged him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yep. It’s what Nick would want me to do, don’t you think?”

I thought about my older son, his penchant for absolute honesty, even when it got him in trouble. I nodded at Kurt. “Let’s go man up together.”

We walked arm in arm up the steps, Lacey by my side. About halfway up, she grasped my arm. “Hold on. Need a quick rest.” Her breathing was shallow and wheezy.

“Lacey, are you all right?” Kurt asked.

She smiled at him and nodded. “Police stations always have this effect on me.”

He smiled, but I could see he was scared, too.

She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths. After a full minute she straightened up and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

We finished the climb and pushed through the glass doors that led to the lobby. I walked to the only open window. It said Records above it, but I didn’t much care at this point whether we were at the right spot. “We’re here to see Detective Thompson. He’s expecting us.” I looked over my shoulder at Kurt. “Some of us, at least.”

“Have a seat. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

We went and sat together in a row of blue plastic seats. An angry-looking Hispanic man sat directly across from us, and a woman who I assumed to be his wife sat crying in the seat beside him. They were speaking Spanish, but my immediate assumption was that they had a son in trouble. I’m sure it’s the same way Rick and I had looked on several occasions.

“Mrs. Stewart?” Detective Thompson’s voice came from somewhere to the left.

We all stood and walked to the open door. He looked from me to Kurt to Lacey. “You’ve brought some friends, I see.”