Chapter 31: Meet the Parents

March 9, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Steve

“Where are they?” I asked.

“On the front porch. I think her pastor and his wife are with them. I wasn’t sure if you would want them in the house.”

“Well, if they want to enter my den of iniquity, who am I to deny them? Sunroom, I think. We’ll be up shortly.”

“OK.”

I closed the door and turned to Tabitha.

“What do you want to do? You don’t have to see them or speak to them.”

“I’ll come upstairs with you,” she said.

She got out of bed and began dressing, and I pulled on my briefs, sweatpants, and a long-sleeve t-shirt. I sat down to put on my socks, then took Tabitha’s hand and led her upstairs to the sunroom, where Jessica and Kara were faced off with Tim Saddler and three others who I assumed were his wife and Tabitha’s parents. It was actually obvious which woman was Tabitha’s mother, because she looked like what I would expect a forty-year-old Tabitha to look like.

“Well, well, well,” I said. “Look who’s darkened my door.”

“The spawn of Satan!” Tim Saddler growled.

I was tempted to retort that Satan was HIS boss, not mine, but decided upon a different approach.

“Have you seen Vickie lately?” I asked. “I spoke to her the other day, and she’s doing great, with another baby on the way.”

He turned almost violet with anger, and I almost expected steam to come from his ears.

“Tabitha,” her mom said. “We came to rescue you.”

Tabitha laughed softly, “Rescue me? From what?”

“This evil house! These reprobate people!”

“I don’t want to be rescued,” she said. “I want to be here.”

“Tabitha,” her mother pleaded. “You aren’t thinking straight!”

“I’m just fine, Mom. I have a place to stay, a job, and new friends.”

“These people are NOT your friends!” Tim Saddler declared angrily. “They want to corrupt you and lead you to hell!”

“If anyone in this room is going to hell,” I countered, “if such a place even exists, it’s the blind guides, the Pharisees.”

“You mock the Scriptures!”

“No, Sir, I mock YOU. But that’s like taking candy from a baby, because you are a mockery. I mean, I heard a twenty-one-year-old college kid whipped you in a debate nearly twenty years ago, and you were so embarrassed you left your church!”

“That’s a complete mischaracterization!” he protested.

“I doubt it, because I could whip you with one hand tied behind my back. Look, you aren’t wanted here, and neither is your false gospel.”

“Honey, we want to help you,” Tabitha’s dad said.

“I don’t need your help,” Tabitha replied.

“What kind of crazy ideas has this man put in your head?” he asked.

“That I’m an adult? That I can make it on my own? That I can make decisions for myself? All things you NEVER allowed.”

“But how can you defile yourself this way?” her mother asked.

“What do you mean?” Tabitha asked, sounding defiant, with her hands on her hips.

“You spent the night with a married man!”

“Yes,” Tabitha admitted. “I did. And you know what? I’m going to do it again!”

“Tabitha!” her mother gasped, sounding horrified.

“Young lady, you do NOT speak that way!” Tim Saddler ordered.

“What way?” she asked. “That I want Steve to put his tongue in my pussy? That I want him to fuck me? That I want to suck his dick and swallow his cum?”

Tabitha’s dad looked as if he was going to have a stroke; her mother gasped, then fainted dead away. Fortunately, Mrs. Saddler caught her and Jessica sprang into action, instantly becoming ‘Doctor Jessica’. Tabitha gasped and hurried to her mom’s side.

“I think that’s the end of the conversation,” I said to Tim Saddler, who looked like he was about to explode.

“Tiger, get my bag, please,” Jessica ordered.

I rushed from the sunroom, bounded up the stairs, and went into the master bedroom where I grabbed Jessica’s black bag from the table, then hurried downstairs to the sunroom, where I handed her the bag. She took out her stethoscope and listened to Mrs. Larson’s heart and breathing. Jessica used a penlight to check Mrs. Larson’s eyes and then checked her blood pressure.

“Tiger, call 9-1-1, please. I don’t like the sound of her heart or her blood pressure.”

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Larson asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jessica replied. “It could just be shock, but she might have had a heart attack or a stroke.”

“NO!” Tabitha whimpered.

I ran to the kitchen and dialed 9-1-1.

“I need the paramedics. A roughly forty-year-old woman collapsed. A doctor is in attendance, and instructed me to call 9-1-1. She suspects a heart attack or stroke.”

“Yes.”

I waited, and the dispatcher let me know the paramedics were on the way. Most likely it would be Tom’s old company, though it could be Stuart’s, depending on their workload. Three minutes later, I heard sirens.

“I hear sirens,” I said.

“I’m aware. I need to put the phone down to open the door for them.”

I opened the door just as a uniformed cop was climbing the stairs and I saw the CFD squad turning onto Woodlawn Avenue.

“You called 9-1-1?” the officer asked.

“I did. Let me go tell the dispatcher you’re here. My wife is a doctor, and she’s with the victim. Come in, please.”

I left the door open, and he followed me to the kitchen, where I let the dispatcher know the police and paramedics had arrived and hung up the phone.

“FIRE DEPARTMENT!” a loud voice called out.

I quickly walked out of the kitchen to see Jim Voinovich, who had been Tom’s partner before Tom had gone to Sweden with Bethany, come into the foyer.

“Jess is with the victim in the sunroom.”

“Hi, Steve. I thought this was your place. This is Don. Show us?”

I led the two paramedics to the sunroom, and the uniformed CPD officer followed us.

“Hi, Jim; Hi Don,” Jessica said. “Can we get oxygen and the portable EKG set up?”

Jim set down the cases he was carrying, one of which held the portable EKG. He and Jess quickly worked to attach the leads while Don put an oxygen mask on Mrs. Larson. Tabitha had to move out of the way and came to stand by me. I put my arm around her.

“This is not your fault,” I said quietly.

“Of course it is!” Tim Saddler said, unfortunately, close enough to hear what I said.

“No,” I said firmly. “I blame whoever thought driving up here to confront me and to try to force Tabitha to go home was a good plan. Anything that happened after that is THAT person’s fault. I strongly suspect the same person who decided to sic then Deputy Sheriff Nelson on me because they were offended by the choices their adult daughter had made, then did the same with now Sheriff Nelson for similar reasons. In other words, this is YOUR fault. In fact, ALL of it is your fault, because you’ve perverted the Gospel and twisted the Scriptures.”

“Get thee behind me, Satan!” Tim Saddler exclaimed.

“He’s YOUR boss, not mine,” I replied, having refrained once from saying so. “I love when you hate. I eat with ‘sinners and publicans’, while you refuse to have anything to do with the people who are in greatest need of Jesus’ teachings. You condemn to hell, and cast the first stone, rather than acknowledging your own sinfulness and getting the log out of your own eye. As it is written, ‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you travel land and sea to win one proselyte, and when he is won, you make him twice as much a son of hell as yourselves’.”

“Tim,” his wife urged. “Stop it. You should be praying for Joan.”

Four firemen came into the sunroom with a gurney.

“Hi, Lieutenant,” I said to Ken Thornton.

“Hi, Steve. Who’s ill?”

“A visitor from Ohio,” I said.

“We need to get her to the ER,” Jessica announced. “I’ll ride along. Call in for cardiology and neuro, please.”

Don used his radio to contact the ER, while Jessica administered some kind of drug, but I hadn’t heard what she’d asked for. Once that was done, the firemen worked together to get Mrs. Larson onto the gurney and wheel her out, followed by all of our visitors.

“I need some information for my report,” the officer said.

“I’ll take Tabitha to the hospital,” Kara offered.

“Thanks, Kara,” I said. “Officer, I’ll give you a statement.”

Kara and Tabitha left, and I answered the officer’s questions as best I could. He completed the report, and I walked him out. Once he’d left, I went next door to speak to Penny. I explained what had happened asked her to keep the girls until we returned home. She promised she would, so I went back home, changed clothes, then used Jessica’s BMW with the ‘Doctor’ plates and ER sticker to park in a spot in the Ambulance entryway. I hurried into the ER through the ambulance doors and stopped at the desk.

“Hi Giselle,” I said.

“Hi, Mr. Adams. Doctor Adams is in Trauma 3. The others are in the waiting room.”

“Thanks.”

I looked up at the new digital board and saw Trauma 3 marked as ‘Cardio/Neuro Consult’, then went through the security doors to the waiting room where Kara and Tabitha were sitting together on one side of the room, and the Saddlers and Mr. Larson were sitting on the other side of the room. I chose to sit down next to Tabitha, putting her safely between Kara and me.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I said,” she said quietly.

“Yes, you should have,” Kara said. “Only words like that would get through their heads that you aren’t going back to your cage.”

“But my mom...”

“Whatever medical problem your mom had preexisted that confrontation,” I said. “It was likely only a matter of time before something triggered it. And I was serious when I told your former pastor that he’s to blame. He’s the one who is responsible for you being held out of sex ed in health class. He’s the one responsible for your dad locking you in a metaphorical cage. He’s the one responsible for your dad treating you like property, to be handed to your putative husband, to be HIS property, and destined to a life of what amounted to servitude.

“Now, because you decided to call me, you’re an emancipated young woman, free to chart your own course through life. You get to decide who you marry, and on what terms. You get to give yourself to someone, rather than be given to them. You get to decide where to work, if you want to go to college, who to have as friends, and with whom you want to have sex. If you think about it, your dad decided that you were only going to have sex with the man he chose! I can’t think of anything more wrong than what amounts to forcing you to have sex with someone.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Tabitha replied.

“But you see my point, right?” I asked.

“Yes. Dad did choose Mark, after talking to Pastor Tim.”

“So those two men decided who you had to have sex with!” Kara exclaimed.

“And by being with Steve, I decided,” Tabitha said, her eyes showing the realization of an important truth.

“Exactly,” Kara said. “It both set you free and confirmed your freedom. You get to decide who you have sex with, not your dad, your pastor, or anyone else.”

“I’m getting evil looks from my dad,” Tabitha said.

“I’m pretty sure those are meant for me,” I said. “He blames me for corrupting and defiling you when all I really did was open your eyes.”

“You should visit his church,” Kara teased. “I suspect there are plenty of pretty virgins just waiting to be expertly deflowered!”

I laughed, “I’ve had my two. There’s no need to be greedy!”

Both Kara and Tabitha laughed. I had been a bit concerned that her mom’s medical crisis would cause her to reconsider her decisions, but so far, it appeared they hadn’t.

“How long will it be?” Tabitha asked a minute later.

“It’s hard to say,” I replied. “I’m sure Jess will come to talk to us as soon as she knows something.”

A doctor I hadn’t seen before, with red hair and wearing scrubs that hid what I thought was a slim figure, came over to us.

“You must be Steve,” she said. “Jessica said to look for a man sitting with two gorgeous blondes!”

“I am.”

“I’m Lucy O’Shea, from cardiology. Is this Tabitha?”

“Yes.”

“Tabitha, your mom is OK. She’s conscious and breathing fine on her own. She hasn’t had a heart attack or stroke. We’re reasonably certain it was simply a syncopal event due to adrenaline and low blood pressure.”

“That means a fainting spell,” I said. “I have a problem with that myself at times.”

“Yes, sorry,” Doctor O’Shea said. “Anyway, we’re going to admit her for observation because she shouldn’t have been unconscious for as long as she was. Tomorrow we’ll do a complete cardiac workup, and probably an MRI and CT scan to look for any problems.”

“Occlusion or aneurysm?” I asked.

“Yes. Where is her husband?”

“See those two angry-looking gentlemen with the woman with brown hair?” I asked. “The one on the right is Mr. Larson.”

“Thanks!”

Doctor O’Shea went across the waiting room to where the Saddlers and Mr. Larson were sitting.

“What do you think is wrong?” Tabitha asked me.

“Nothing. I was simply asking what they were looking for. Basically clogged or narrowed arteries or a deformed blood vessel. In both cases, things that are easily fixable. And I think your dad is about the lose it.”

He was clearly angry and gestured towards us. Doctor O’Shea had upset him by coming to speak to Tabitha first, which might have been a tactical error, but probably one Jess had planned for whatever reason.

“She’s handling him,” Kara said. “Cute redhead, too.”

I chuckled, “I noticed.”

“Do you always point out pretty girls to Steve?” Tabitha asked Kara.

“Yes! I like looking at them, too!”

“But you’re a girl!”

“So?” Kara asked. “You know both Jessica and I sleep with Steve at the same time, right?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“We also have sex with each other.”

“Oh!” Tabitha gasped. “You’re les ... uhm, sorry.”

“No, we aren’t lesbians,” Kara said. “You read Smart Teens; Smart Choices so you should know that sexuality isn’t an either/or thing. I know lots of girls who have experimented with other girls, but who are happily married and only have sex with their husbands. I also know girls who have had sex with guys, but are happily married to another woman who is the only person with whom they have sex. And I know people who happily have sex with people of either sex. And all of that is normal.”

“But you...”

Kara smirked, “Put my tongue in Jessica’s pussy? Yes!”

Tabitha turned bright red, and I gave Kara a look which was intended to convey ‘not here’, rather than not to say things like that.

“I don’t think you should mention that to my parents,” Tabitha said thoughtfully a few minutes later.

My mobile phone rang, and I slipped it from my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was in Rutherford’s area code.

“Steve Adams.”

“It’s Emmy Nelson. Everything OK?”

“More or less. Your friend, Tim Saddler, and his wife drove up to Chicago with Tabitha’s parents.”

“Shit. You know he’s no friend! Is everything OK?”

“Yes. Tabitha’s mom had a fainting spell when Tabitha described what we’d done.”

Emmy laughed, “In detail?”

“Enough. I had a few words with the ‘good Reverend’ as well. I’m glad you told me about Doctor Mike kicking his ass in a debate.”

“I just wish it had been recorded so I could show it to that holier-than-thou asshole’s congregation! Is Joan Larson OK?”

“They’re going to keep her overnight for observation and run some tests tomorrow, but she’s conscious, and they just took her husband and the Saddlers in to see her.”

“The detective who spoke to you said you have some pretty slick lawyers who kept the Feds in line. Sorry, I had to call ‘em, but any kidnapping allegation is automatically federal. It’s the law.”

“I know. But nobody broke down my door and nobody was arrested, so it’s all good. The FBI can add it to the list of things about me that annoy them. It’s a long list.”

“Need anything from me?”

“No, Sheriff. It’s all good.”

“I put the check in the mail this afternoon!”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I chuckled.

“A bet is a bet! Cash it; you deserve it.”

“If you insist.”

“I do! Talk to you again soon.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up.

“Sheriff Emmy?” Tabitha asked.

“Yes. She was just checking to make sure everything was OK.”

“Didn’t have to do what?” Kara asked.

“Later,” I chuckled.

“OK, now you have me curious,” Tabitha said.

I considered whether Tabitha could deal with what Emmy had said and decided she could.

“When we were at lunch, Sheriff Emmy mentioned that you were, well, prudish, and said she’d pay a thousand dollars if I could get you to spread your legs for me.”

“What?!” she gasped.

“It was actually more targeted at your former pastor than you,” I replied. “Sheriff Emmy and he do not get along at all. That became obvious the first time Tim Saddler accused me of rape.”

“Vickie?”

“Yes. Sheriff Emmy sorted it out, but that only increased the animosity. You know he publicly supported and campaigned for her opponent, right?”

“Yes.”

“I do need to say that I actually turned Sheriff Emmy down. You remember, I didn’t do anything except smile at you and our conversation was solely about ordering. You approached me, and I tried to deter you.”

Tabitha laughed softly, “It didn’t work!”