Chapter 3

Early the next morning, the covers were unceremoniously yanked off the two of us. It was Mom, of course, announcing that we had lots of things to do and to get moving. By this time I was awake enough to realize that Sheila and I were wrapped in each other’s arms.

While I groaned and, I’m sure, muttered something like, “Lemme sleep,” Sheila just rolled onto her back and sighed.

“What an incredible night that was, Mom! It just couldn’t have been better. Not only am I wrapped in the arms of a golden goddess who could keep me warm with just the power of her kisses, I’m lying in the most comfortable bed in the world.” Slowly shaking her head she added softly, “I can’t remember the last time I was actually in a bed and allowed to sleep.”

When we got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom to share a shower I remember glancing back. There on Sheila’s pillow were auburn hairs in sufficient quantity to essentially color the pillow.

I gasped, but Mom just said she had expected to see just that. “It’s a byproduct of starvation, sweetie. You see, the body is very interesting. Faced with a shortage of food, the first thing that happens is that the body starts to metabolize — to burn — all its accumulated fat. When that’s all gone, the next thing that happens is it shuts down all unnecessary bodily activities.” To Sheila she asked, “When was the last time you had a period?”

The girl slowly shook her head and finally replied, “I really can’t remember. More than a year ago, but I can’t tell you how much longer than that.”

“You see, hon, to the body reproduction is a luxury activity, so it’s closed down. But so is growing hair. This is going to be a real challenge to Andy because he’s going to find that Sheila’s hair at her scalp is so fine that I could give her a boy’s haircut just by combing it out a few times. There’s essentially nothing there.”

She turned out to be absolutely correct. When Mom told Andy Shepherd, our private hair stylist, what was needed — the three of us had to look as good as we possibly could — he trimmed Mom’s hair and mine and applied conditioner to us both. Too much sun, he said. With Sheila he did, in fact, give her a very short crew cut while commenting that when it grew out the ends would all have to come off; they were so thin as to be virtually invisible. Fortunately, Sheila had — and has — a very dense head of hair.

Andy had been working on Sheila’s hair with the styling chair facing away from the mirror. I vividly recall what seemed at the time to be a very strange attitude on Sheila’s part: She seemed to have utterly no interest in her hair but a great deal of interest in her surroundings. We were in Andy’s private office/styling room and the surroundings are lush. For some reason, I imagined that Sheila was valuing the furnishings and incorporating that into the price of her styling. Her reaction at the time reinforced my impression: She actually appeared frightened. Scared of the price tag, maybe? But why would she be? Mom was paying for it, of course.

Finally Andy stepped back so Mom and I could get a good look. “It’s not what I want, of course,” he said in a tone of regret, “but it’s really the best I can do under the circumstances.” Then he cocked his head and studied Sheila closely. Of course she was still draped in the sheet they use so the only thing visible was her head.

I remember just shaking my head in utter amazement. Even with her very short hair, at the age of 16 — we thought — Sheila was stunningly beautiful.

Mom just broke out into that smile of hers that’s so bright it rivals the sun. “My darling,” I could hear her whisper, “you’re utterly gorgeous!” She nodded to Andy who turned the chair so Sheila could see the results for the first time.

Sheila was speechless. She just stared at herself in the mirror and I saw tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Realizing the incredible agony she’d been through the day before without making a sound, I started to gain some understanding of the degree to which the girl had been moved. Then she looked around and I knew she was looking for Mom. But Mom was way ahead of me. She was hugging the girl, kissing her and sharing her tears.

Finally order was restored and we were ready to leave. Mom still hadn’t said anything at all to Andy who had just been standing there, waiting. Finally he couldn’t take it any longer as we were only moments away from leaving. “Well, Kate,” he asked, “what do you think?”

“It’s okay, Andy,” she replied blithely as she walked toward the door. Turning she gave him a wink and a wonderfully warm smile.

As the door closed I could see Andy still basking in the effects of Mom’s smile.

Leaving Andy’s — André is the name on the sign — we went clothes shopping. That was sort of a revelation, too. Since it was October and getting cool, Mom selected an utterly magnificent cashmere suit in a green that was almost an exact match with Sheila’s eyes. She has broad shoulders for a woman, and even though she was as thin as a toothpick, the fitter was able to get the jacket to hang properly. As for the skirt, Mom made sure that ample material was left so that it could be let out to fit when Sheila regained weight.

But after that it was a battle royal. Mom wanted to buy her some very nice things but Sheila wouldn’t hear of it. About Mom’s only victory on that front was buying her some of the finest bikinis made. Beyond that, though, Mom lost. Sheila insisted on the dullest, most drab attire the world has ever seen. I began to refer to it as Sheila’s camouflage, and as it turned out that’s exactly what it was.

“Look, Mom,” Sheila insisted with emerald sparks flying from her eyes, “Sam is the young beauty in the household. I am not! Clear? I will do absolutely nothing to attract attention away from her, and that’s final!”

I guess Mom remembered the incredible tortures the girl had lived through and decided that she had a level of determination that more than matched her own. So that’s the way it was.

At two o’clock that afternoon the three of us entered Judge John Hall’s courtroom in Illinois Family Court. We had arranged to meet Dad and Jim there. Mom had made it crystal clear to brother James that his attendance was not optional!

The purpose of our visit, of course, was an adoption hearing. Mom had told Sheila the previous day that she would be her daughter within 24 hours, and by God it was going to happen.

Of course it came as absolutely no surprise to learn much later that Mom had been on the phone to the governor explaining the situation. And when the governor tells his Secretary of Human Services that an adoption is going to happen and that if anything was done to interfere, the responsible folks in the department would immediately be looking for new jobs, things happened. In this case the governor’s message was received loud and clear. So much so that we later learned from Judge Hall that the local office head of human services had been on the phone to inquire if there was anything at all the department could do to speed things along.

It was quite a change from the more usual situation in which the department essentially wants iron-clad guarantees from the adoptive parents or lacking them, it tries to block the adoption. It seems to be all too common in such agencies: They operate on the unexamined — and totally fallacious — assumption that the state using its own facilities or an endless series of foster homes is a superior outcome to an adoption by any but the very finest families.

In all honesty, I guess our family would meet any reasonable test of “finest families” except for our somewhat unusual — should I say? — sexual behavior.

Anyway, when we entered the courtroom we found Dad and Jim waiting for us. Mom gave Dad her usual loving kiss and commented to Jim that he looked very handsome. When she looked at Jim, Sheila did too and her eyes widened. I’m pretty sure I could even hear her heart rolling over inside her body when she looked at him. Dr. Marian Reynolds was also waiting for us in the courtroom.

Since this was an adoption hearing, it was conducted in a much more informal manner than many court proceedings. There was no bailiff announcing the judge’s entrance, for example.

Judge Hall, carrying a thick file folder, entered the courtroom from his chambers and took his seat behind the bench. By this time all five of us were standing in front of him with Sheila standing in front of the four of us closest to him. In addition to her lovely new suit, she was wearing a three-strand necklace of perfectly matched pearls along with pearl ear studs. Her transformation in only 24 hours had really been nothing short of miraculous.

“Sheila,” the judge began, “Dr. Reynolds has filled me in on your physical condition at the time she saw you yesterday. It’s absolutely clear to me that the adults with whom you have been living — parents or not — are totally unfit to have you in their care.”