Long Blue Line: Based on a True Story (38 page)

I went into the clinic and begged them to see me on the spot. I was in luck. They called me back within about fifteen minutes. The young doctor walked in and she was really nice. I explained to her that I was about to move to Texas, and I was having extreme anxiety. “Is everything going okay at home with your husband?” she asked, knowing all too well what my problem really was. “Yes! It’s actually better than ever. I don’t know what my problem is but I keep getting panic attacks. My heart is racing and I feel like I can’t breathe.” She put the meter on my pointer and measured my heart rate. It was extremely fast and she looked concerned. She wrote me a prescription for a drug similar to Valium, and gave me enough for my trip so I wouldn’t be shorthanded while traveling.

We all went to lunch at a Thai restaurant, and I tried to eat as much as I could. Lilah put on her fake smile again, and I was surprised when she actually kissed Danielle on the forehead before we parted ways. My mom took me to the pharmacy to drop off my prescription. After pulling in my driveway, we said our goodbyes. Something was telling me that it wasn’t going to be the last time I would see her before I left. I wasn’t as worried about it as she seemed to be.

Lunch helped me to feel a little better, and after Danielle woke up from her nap, it was time to head over to Probation. I thought about just not going, or calling to reschedule, but I didn’t want the stress of that hanging over my head when I knew that it would all be fine if I just went in. I packed up the baby and started driving down to the Probation Office. When I was called back, my officer started our meeting out with the usual hello, and how are you. Then he began. “I spoke with the District Attorney about getting you off early, and at first they were completely against it. I had to do a lot of convincing, but finally got them to agree to let you go.” “Awesome, thank you so much,” I smiled, bouncing Danielle on my knee to keep her busy. “The only thing that they want to seal the deal is for you to submit a clean drug test.”

Panic struck me. It struck me hard. It was as if I was hit full force with defeat all over again. My body was rushing with adrenaline, my heart was pounding, and my face felt hot. I somehow hid my panic because he didn’t have any look of concern on his face. He knew that my test would come back clean and it would all be just fine. As I was trying not to shake, I reached into my purse and pulled out the prescription I picked up before arriving. “Well, I was prescribed this and I don’t know if it will have an impact, but maybe you might want to document it?” I asked, hoping that this detail could miraculously cancel out this unexpected test. He wrote down the prescription strength and said that it would not have an impact. A female officer, the same officer that took me into the jail last year, approached the office doorway and asked me if I was ready. She was stern, and not very friendly. She looked suspicious of me the entire time. My officer offered to watch Danielle while I did my test, but the second I set her down in the hopes that she would want to run and explore the hallways, she screamed her little head off. “Just bring her in and I’ll hold her while you test,” the female officer said. We went into the bathroom, I signed the label that would go over the urine sample, and handed Danielle to the unfamiliar woman. Danielle was hysterical. It wasn’t difficult for me to pee because I had been drinking so much water. I knew that the sample was extremely diluted, but I still had a horrifying feeling that everything was about to plummet. Before walking through the exit door, my Probation Officer wished me luck and we said our goodbyes. It wasn’t goodbye. I would be seeing him again very soon.

Once I was back on the road heading home, I was free to melt down. I was crying so hard I almost couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry baby. I’m so, so sorry,” I cried as Danielle was innocently playing in her seat. I had failed her again, and after already being placed in three different homes in her short life, she was about to be placed somewhere else. I selfishly allowed myself to screw up in the worst way possible not even considering what kind of impact this could have on her. I was devastated. I felt so much pain, not for myself but for my baby. I was a loser. I would never know how to function as a productive person, and three children were suffering because of it. I chose drugs over my own flesh and blood. I chose to live selfishly over living as a responsible and loving mother. I chose to cave to my addiction and over making their safety a priority. I was a bad mom. I was ruining lives. I destroyed their childhood, ripping away any sense of belonging and security that they temporarily had. I deserved to sit in jail and suffer. They didn’t deserve any pain.

Once I got home, Derrick was still working and had no idea what was going on. His phone battery must have died because I could not get a hold of him. I set Danielle down to play with her toys. I walked into my bedroom and shut the door. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I had to get it out and I didn’t want to scare my baby in the process. I wanted to rip my hair out. I wanted to die. There was nothing left to do except wait for Derrick to come home. I sat on the couch and watched Danielle play with her toys on the living room floor. We only had one option to keep her out of the system. They would take her away from me forever this time. I couldn’t handle the thought of that happening. That was not an option. Derrick walked in from work that night. It was getting late. I had tears rolling down my face and he instantly knew what was going on.

“We have to go,” I cried. “Fuck!” he yelled. “You gotta be kidding me,” he said, on the verge of tears. That was that. We had to start driving. The only vehicle we had that could make the long drive was the truck he got from his brother. It was a two-seater, and I originally wasn’t going to go because there was no room. But, if I didn’t go, I would have to sit here alone, and wait for Probation to come and arrest me. I decided that I would sit on the center console. I wanted to say goodbye to my baby too.

It was late at night and we were on the road. We packed all of Danielle’s important things, and the toys that we knew she liked the most. As we were driving Derrick called his parents. “I have bad news, and we’re on our way right now. Elizabeth was sick last week and loaded up on Vicks and some other cough medicine. They gave her a drug test, and now we’re worried that it will show a false positive,” he said. After a short pause, he replied to his mother, “Ok, I’ll keep you updated. We’ll probably be in El Paso tomorrow around noon. We’re not going to stop; we’re driving straight through.” He hung up the phone. “My parents are leaving right now and they’re meeting us in El Paso, so we don’t have to drive all the way through Texas.” “That’s really nice of them. If we went to their house I wouldn’t want to go back to hell at all,” I said.

Becoming a fugitive on the run was tempting. It made sense. But I just knew that I would prolong everything even more, and probably end up with a prison sentence if I did this. I felt as if I were living another nightmare, and couldn’t understand why I was so stupid. I cried on and off for the entire drive. The anti-anxiety medication didn’t seem to help at all. It took away my panic attacks, but it didn’t take away the reality of my life, which is what I really wanted. We were in Los Angeles around three in the morning. My butt was sore from sitting on the center console in an awkward, curled up position, but I dealt with it. Danielle was sleeping for most of the time, but when she woke, she was happy and in a good mood. It was almost as if she knew that we were protecting her and making sure that she wasn’t going to be stuck in a foster home. By the time we rolled into Phoenix, it was dawn. Derrick was close to nodding off, and we had to roll the windows down and turn up the music. I remember thinking about how beautiful this place was, and how I would love to escape here forever. We pulled into a rest area to clean up and change the baby. We tried to sleep, but we were just too overwhelmed and feeling like we needed to get to El Paso as soon as possible. Probation had probably not gotten my test back yet, but it was only a matter of hours. If we were going to be pulled over, it needed to happen after we dropped Danielle off. Around noon, we were speeding into El Paso, Texas. Ironically, Derrick’s parents had arrived almost exactly when we did. We met them at a Denny’s that was right off of the Interstate.

“Hi, hon,” his mother said as she gave me a hug. “You look so skinny, Elizabeth,” she noticed. “I know, it’s because I was sick and couldn’t really eat much, and now I am too stressed to eat,” I replied. They never brought it up, but I wondered if they really knew what was going on. We had lunch, and I practically had to choke it down. When we finished eating, we walked out of the restaurant like zombies, and I approached our car to change Danielle and make sure she was comfortable. She was happy and smiling, and I didn’t know how to hand her over. I picked her up off of the driver’s seat she was laying on, and I hugged and kissed her smiling face, trying not to cry. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I fought to hide my pain. “I’ll see you soon, sweet girl,” I whispered as I hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go but having no choice. We held it together until we were on the road, this time without our baby. When we got on the freeway, we both silently cried and blankly stared ahead. There was nothing left to say or do, except return to our hell. Our hell that we had caused and could blame nothing for except our own selfish behavior.

After stopping in Phoenix to rest in a motel room for about six hours and then hours and hours more of driving through the mountains in California, we finally made it home. It was the day after dropping Danielle off and nearing noon. We were both on the brink of delirium. The only thing we wanted to do once we walked inside was sleep. I had a feeling that the luxury would be short-lived. Derrick went straight to the bedroom and passed out. I got on my computer, which was facing the living room window in the front of the house. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes after getting home when I saw a Probation Officer walking up the front yard. I rushed back to the bedroom to tell Derrick. “Wake up! Wake up!” I shook him as hard as I could. He wouldn’t wake up. I was going to jail. I nervously approached my front door and opened it. A group of probably ten Probation Officers stormed into my home. My Probation Officer told me to sit down on my couch. The others asked if anyone else was in the house and I told them that Derrick was sleeping in the bedroom. They managed to wake him up and had him sit next to me on the couch.

“Where’s Danielle?” A young, snooty Social Worker charged in with what looked like an intern. She was holding a clipboard and demanding to know where Danielle was. I let Derrick do the talking. “She’s on vacation with her grandparents. Sorry, but that’s all you’re gonna get outta me,” he firmly said. “Elizabeth, your last drug test came back positive for methamphetamine. I need you to stand up and face the other way,” my Probation Officer said. I did as he asked, and my rights were read to me. I wasn’t surprised, and I had been expecting this to happen. I was hauled off to jail for the third time, and I was forced to sit there not knowing what was going on with the CPS. I was horrified that they were going to get Danielle. If they did, I would never see her again. At least with Derrick’s parents, I could go to Texas to be with her once my Probation ended. And as of now, that wasn’t going to be any time soon. I would have to finish out my remaining year and a half.

As I walked into the booking area of the jail with two Probation Officers escorting me, I sat down and began to cry out of guilt and embarrassment. The officers were asking me tons of questions and truly trying to figure out why I messed up so badly at the last minute. “I don’t know…I…I just don’t feel like I deserve anything good. With what happened with my other daughters, I just feel like the damage is done and I’ll never be okay,” I cried. I was borderline ugly crying. I could hardly talk. I looked at the Correctional Officer and begged her, “Can I please have my own cell. I don’t want to be put in the same room as everyone.” “Why honey?” she asked, surprisingly concerned. “Because I was here doing a meeting probably a month ago, and they’re all going to think I am so pathetic,” I sobbed. I was humiliated. I could already hear them laughing. Not to mention, I was PMSing extra bad, and I was totally sleep deprived. “Sweetie, they’ll all be nice to you, and out of everyone, they’ll understand your situation the best,” she said, trying to make me feel better about it. It didn’t, but it was nice of her to show that she cared. I sat in the holding cell and was called back to strip down and put my oranges on. I hated this place, but I did it to myself. Luckily, the female officer didn’t make me bend over and cough. Ugh.

I went straight back to my cell, and luckily I was put in a single cell. I slept all the way until they called us out for dinner. At least this time I remembered to put my shoes on. I was used to this place. I knew what to expect. Once you spend even a night in jail, you never forget any small detail. A crowd of women gathered around me wanting to hear all of the gritty details. At first I was annoyed, but then one of them made a remark and I started cracking up. The way she said it just brought good humor to the ordeal. “When you first walked in, I turned over to Tory and was like, holy shit! The lady that did that meeting is here!” There was nothing funny about my situation, but imagining what they must have thought when seeing me walk in was pretty hilarious. I was a horrible example. But they were the first to forgive me.

My stay in jail was very difficult despite knowing what to expect from already having been here two times over. I knew that I would probably only have to serve thirty days, which would really only be three weeks with time docked off for good behavior. The part that was the most difficult was being unsure if the Social Workers were actually going to go all the way out to Texas to take my baby. I was only able to get updates once a day when I had my phone call. Derrick told me that they were trying to get Danielle, but as of current they had not. When I went to my bail review hearing, the District Attorney was there and I could tell that she was pissed. “Your Honor, Ms. Jeter is a clear danger to society, and more worrisome, her daughter conveniently ended up in Texas immediately after she gave us a dirty drug test. The Child Protective Services has exhausted every measure to get custody of the minor child. I made a call to the Center for Missing and Exploited Children, and there is nothing that they can do because we don’t know where the child’s physical location is,” she ranted. I couldn’t figure out why they were making my Probation violation more of a case involving my daughter. I thought that criminal and custody were two separate cases. I’m pretty sure that they were all incredibly upset over this because they felt played. They probably thought that I was deceiving and using drugs the entire time, which really was not the case, but there was no point in trying to bring this up because they wouldn’t believe me anyway.

I went back to the pumpkin patch only to wait for more news. A few days later, my Lawyer came to talk to me. “Now we all sat down and had a meeting over this. Everyone is dying to know why you did this when you were about to be let go. Were you using the entire time?” she sympathetically asked. “Now tell me the truth Elizabeth. I’ve always fought hard for you, and I’m asking that you really be honest with me.” I told her the truth. I told her that it was a last minute mistake, and I didn’t know why I did it. “Some of us think that it could have been a form of self-sabotage,” she said. I started crying, again. “It probably was. After losing Chloe and Zoe, I just don’t know how I’ll ever recover,” I sobbed. “I don’t know what happened to this day, and it’s so hard and confusing and it bothers me on a daily basis. A part of me feels like I’ll never deserve anything good because I lost them.” She nodded in compassion. “Well, I spoke with the Judge. She agreed to let you out of jail if you will be willing to sign over temporary custody of Danielle to the grandparents. Is that something you think you can do?” “Yes. I think it would be for the best. I’ll do anything at all at this point, as long as it keeps her out of the system. I know that they’ll take care of her and she’ll be safe and happy, and I can just try to focus on getting off of Probation.” We ended the visit and I felt better that I at least had a plan.

A few days went by and I still hadn’t heard anything from my Lawyer. I felt like I was rotting in jail. I called Derrick that night after dinner. “Can you see if you can get your Public Defender to put the custody paperwork together and bring it in with a Notary? I want to get these orders signed and put into place because I am terrified that they will find a way to take Danielle,” I asked him. The very next day, he had the paperwork completed and I was called back to the visiting area to sign it for the Notary. The woman was nice and urged me to take my time reading through all of it before signing. I skimmed through it and couldn’t sign it fast enough. The night before, I had received a letter from Derrick’s mom. She had included some pictures of Danielle, who was sitting on her grandpa’s lap and flinging ice chips at him. She looked really happy and very content.

Dear Elizabeth,

I hope you are hanging in there, hon. I am so sorry that you are having to deal with all of this especially after you worked so hard for the opposite to happen. I just want you to know that Danielle is safe and happy, and we are here to take care of her for as long as you kids’ need us to. Remember, that if you decide to sign over custody, we know that YOU are her mother. Even if something ever happened between you and Derrick and you went separate ways (God forbid), we would never, ever keep her from you. This is all temporary, and we’ll do whatever it takes to get you all here one day. We love you.

Love,

Mom

It was a weight off of my soldiers knowing that they weren’t upset with me. At least we still had their support and knew that our daughter was in the best place she could be for the given situation we were in. I went to Court, and after spending exactly twenty-one days in jail, the Judge let me out. I had to report to Probation twice a week until my next hearing. The Judge made it clear that if I took off running, she would send me to prison. I was glad that I hadn’t seriously considered doing that when we were driving Danielle to El Paso. Derrick picked me up, and I was so happy to see him. I practically jumped on him as I walked out of the exit door. He was on his lunch break from work, so he only had time to drop me off at home. As I was getting out of the truck, he gave me some unexpected news. “Oh, by the way, a guy that I work with, Mike has been crashing at our place during the week. He lives in Nevada City and he’s just doing a temporary job for the company so I told him he could stay here since you were gone and all.” “Uh…okay.” I replied, not knowing who the hell this guy was or what I was about to walk in to. I leaned over to give Derrick a kiss and he drove off. When I walked in the house, it was a complete disaster. There were beer cans all over the place. There was a smelly dog I had never seen before. This was definitely not my home. A few seconds later, Mike popped out of the spare bedroom. “Elizabeth! I’m Mike! How are ya?” he asked as he headed my way, giving me a hug and patting me on the back. He reminded me of my Uncle Tony, and for this reason, I instantly liked him. “I’m actually packing my stuff up right now to give you your space back. I’m sure you both have a lot going on and I don’t want to be in your way,” he said. “You are welcome to stay if you need to, I don’t mind!” I sincerely replied. He had already booked his motel room, so there was no convincing him. He left about twenty minutes later.

I didn’t have much to do except clean my house. Derrick came home early and immediately started to help me clean. I thought it was really nice of him, and I was wondering if just maybe, after losing his own child, he would begin to understand how important it was to stay clean and appreciate things more. I’m not saying that I fully understood everything, but I did have an appreciation for the smaller things in life. I did know what I did not want for my life. I also knew that my addiction had control over me, and if any person used drugs around me, I would instantly relapse because I couldn’t say no. I didn’t think that Derrick fully understood that. How could he? He would never admit that something else had control over him.

After getting out of jail for the third time and experiencing a huge loss for the third time, my life had no direction and I definitely had no sense of purpose. Derrick and I were getting along probably better than we ever had. I thought about the fact that he was free to go to Texas whenever he wanted. He didn’t have Probation forcing him to stay in the state. Despite all of the drama, he still stayed by my side. No other person stuck with me like he did. This caused me to attach to him significantly more than I had before, and I became extremely dependent. He was the only person that really understood me, and would never leave my side.

We resumed hanging out with the same group of people as we were before Danielle went to Texas. We didn’t see a reason not to. We didn’t have a reason to behave or think about our choices and actions. My meetings with Probation spread out to once every two weeks, and I could easily predict when I would have my next drug test. We spent a good amount of time over at Donnie’s house. He was renting a room from another guy, but the guy was rarely there. Donnie probably chased him off. Eventually, the guy gave Donnie notice that he was moving out. Before I knew it, Donnie and his girlfriend, Casie, were hauling their things into our house. Derrick didn’t even ask me if they could move in. He announced it. “Well, they can stay for maybe a week but that’s it. I’m too OCD and they’ll probably end up getting us in trouble,” I firmly replied. “Check it out, I told my brother that he could stay. I’m not going to put a time limit on it. He has nowhere else to go.” I was surprised that he was being so insistent on this. He normally couldn’t stand to be around his brother for more than a few hours, and now he suddenly wanted him to live with us. I was not okay with this. As far as I knew, Donnie could be the one responsible for what happened to my daughter. I was sickened and could not bear the idea of being under the same roof as him. The only times I would tolerate it was when he had drugs. I used him for his drugs and pretended to like being in his company, and I thought it was the same for Derrick. He had an unhealthy sympathy for Donnie and I couldn’t figure out why. Everything went even further downhill, and this was the point that my addiction took off full force.