Chapter 19

Mizz Lee's turn:

How do I justify telling this man I've never met that I think my great grand-daughter is really better off married to a man twice her age?

I have read that in some avalanches, there is a single 'trigger stone' which, if moved, brings down tons of stone in an uncontrolled rockfall. That stone was a simple phone call from a family services worker in Texas. The nice but very official-sounding lady informed me that my grand-daughter was incarcerated and that her daughter, my fourteen year old great grand-daughter, is in need of a place to live and I am in the position of being her only living relation.

Of course I immediately agreed to pick her up the next day.

I can tell you that my night was sleepless. I'm in my seventies. Fourteen year olds today ... It's been ten years since I was in a classroom and each passing year brought new levels of disrespect and poor behavior. I had just agreed to bring home a fourteen year old girl who was living with a woman who was a 'mother' in only some minor terms of the definition. Parts of my thoughts regretted my decision as possibly hasty, but other parts of my upbringing overcame those. One helps family. It is what family does, and it is one of the foundations upon which civilization is built.

Houston is a long drive, three hours at my normal pace, and I do not relish doing that on my own. I have a friend. He's young. One of my students from my later years of high school. He's a good, quiet, polite young man who happens to live across the alcove from my front door. That would be Edward Allen. He's employed as a technical person, Information Technologies, for one of the big industrial facilities. He and I often talk. He is also the rescuer of many of my friends as well as me when it comes to the myriad difficulties with modern technologies. I know he's always a phone call away.

Today, though, he's taking a couple of vacation days. I see him out in the parking lot, working under the hood of his car. I walk out. "Edward, I have a situation."

I saw a look in his eyes. "This isn't the normal thing, Edward. You know about my daughter..." Family was sometimes a subject of conversation, as were contemporary mores. My own daughter and granddaughter had figured into some of those conversations. I benefit from the viewpoint of an intelligent man forty years my junior.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered.

"You do know she had a daughter, right?"

"I remember you talking about her," he said.

"Well, she's finally done it. Jail. I find myself getting ready to raise my great-granddaughter. Dana's fourteen, and right now she's at a shelter near Houston. I was wondering if you'd mind going with me to collect her. I do not relish making the drive alone."

"Jerry can't make it?" he asked. Jerry is my male companion. I do not relish the use of the term 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' when both of us are in our seventies.

"He's headed off to speak at a conference for prosecuting attorneys," I said. "I need to go as soon as possible."

"Today?" he asked.

"Yes. She doesn't need to spend another night in the shelter. I'm going to go. I wish you'd drive."

"I'll drive. Let me stick this stuff back together and then go clean up."

As I previously stated, nice young man. Very helpful. The two of us departed, driving up I-10, not knowing that we were poking that single little stone with a stick.

I had not seen Dana in a year. The previous summer I had her for a week. She was a good young girl, ebullient, energetic, intelligent, but with only a week, I spent just about every day and night at some venue of interest, at least in my estimation, to a young teen girl whom I determined needed a little guidance into more intellectual pursuits.

I think she saw Edward going between car and apartment once or twice.

I was surprised then that she acquiesced to my guidance on activities.

Now I am looking at, not a week, but an undetermined stay, and I have heard the horror stories from my friends as they describe teen grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I am praying in the very best Episcopalian manner that God gives me strength.

"It may not be so bad, Mizz Lee," Edward said comfortingly. "She may just need a bit of stability and guidance. And I'll help in any way that I can."

"I know you will. I just do not know what we can do."

"Only our best," Edward said. "It'll work out somehow. Might not look like what we think it should be from this vantage point, but we can make something work."

I admire his confidence, especially when it comes to interpersonal relationships. I've watched Edward all through high school where he was one of those students that a teacher hopes to see, and I have watched him here. Single young man. Good income. I am led to believe that many such men are subject to a steady stream of girlfriends of questionable morality. Our Edward was not such. Home most nights. Always alone.

Two hours of driving gives the two of us time to trip around various conversational topics. We're discussing the future of liberal arts education and how it should integrate with STEM degrees. I am happy to report that Edward believes that an engineer or a technologist should have a knowledge of literature and the arts.

Edward's GPS takes us directly to the address where we are to meet Dana. I signed some forms, Ed picked up two sad bags of Dana's belongings and we departed.

First impression – Dana was in control of herself. Her life may have just turned topsy-turvy, but she seemed to be optimistic. She was dressed well, under the circumstances. I quickly inventoried. No lipstick. No eye makeup. No long, painted nails. Yes, I know she's fourteen. I also see those 'enhancements' on girls younger than fourteen, often, sadly, with their mother's encouragement.

She sounded grateful, relieved, seemed happy.

We weren't far down the road, though, when the first spatter of stones from the coming avalanche started rolling.

She asked Edward if he had a girlfriend. When he replied in the negative, she asked him if he wanted one.

In retrospect, I suppose that I did turn her loose on Edward very early. When we got home, one of my friends had one of those medical events that are endemic to us elderly folk and I asked Edward if he minded watching Dana.

I relied on Edward. Dana was boundless energy and enthusiasm. I suspected I'd be doing interminable mall trips and movies and such. I let her go with Edward. Found out that it was nature trails and photography jaunts and museums and Saturdays at the park where she played soccer.

I started watching.

"Dana, don't burn Ed out. Give him some time to himself."

"Gramma," she'd tell me with those serious grey eyes, "Ed ASKS me to go places with him. And he ASKS me where I want to go. We talk. We listen to music. You KNOW how smart he is."

The horrible teen I dreaded has failed to materialize. Instead I got somebody that was neat and respectful and helpful and responsible and VERY academically adept. I suspected she was loafing in class and making perfect papers doing it.

She was also in love.

"Gramma, I know it is difficult to discuss feelings like this, but you're my parent."

"I know. I will do my best. Tell me."

"I'm in love with Ed."

"Edward is twice your age."

"Gramma, he's smart and kind and gentle and funny and responsible..."

My heart flopped. Edward. My young friend Edward. Was he... "Has he..." I started.

Dana looked horrified. "Oh, no, Gramma. He's deliberate in maintaining physical distance. I hardly get a hug. And I love him. What am I supposed to do?"

"Dana, young ladies fall in love all the time..."

"I know about those. I observe. 'I'm in love with Brandon' except Brandon doesn't know it. Or even worse, Brandon DOES find out and the next thing you know, they're sneaking off and having sex until somebody cuter or whatever comes along for either of 'em." Her face was deadly serious. "Gramma, I'm not like that. I watched Mom. I know a lot of things. I'm not going to be like Mom."

I watched. I started seeing a couple, not Edward and Dana, but THEM. I made Edward the legal guardian in the event of my incapacitation, something he assured me was no problem.

I suspected that somewhere in this period of time they became intimate. Dana missed school when her first monthlies came at my house. She claimed cramps. I took her to her first gynecological visit. We walked away with birth control pills, ostensibly because they moderate and regulate periods.

If what I suspect is true, that Dana and Ed are intimate, then those pills allow me to sleep, as well, since I will not have to tend to a pregnant teen.

Dana and Edward. I considered the alternative. I came up with a vision of a sullen, rebellious Dana, or equally bad, Dana with a series of hormone-ravaged boys closer to her age who would not care where they took her, nor how.

If it were to be Dana and somebody, then Edward was more than satisfactory. I cautioned Dana on the legal repercussions of publicizing her relationship with Edward.

I also started talking with some old friends still working for the school board about getting my Dana tested to determine her actual academic prowess. The first surprise was that Dana was in possession of an ACT score in the ninetieth percentile while in the seventh grade. That was a year ago. We're surely going to go further with this.

A big step for me came when Dana asked me if she could go off with Edward for a weekend, leaving Friday and returning Sunday.

This was the final hurdle. Would I act on the reality, or would I try to hold myself and Dana to some unrealistic standard?

I allowed her to go. Worse, I actually sent her over the night before so that I could go with a group of seniors on a tour. I don't see this as 'giving up'. It's a unique situation. 'One size' does not necessarily 'fit all.'

The avalanche got worse. Edward ran into a couple of engineers – actually two engineers who are married to each other – at work. The wife of the couple is eighteen and is working on a doctorate in physics while working with her husband as an engineer.