Chapter 8

Following the long discussion Romi had raised about wanting Michelle to move in, Henry and Flora retired to their bedroom. Too exhausted to keep talking, they agreed to discuss the matter more the following day. Neither was able to fall asleep quickly though, as their minds were wracked with conflicting notions of ‘what’s the right thing to do?’ Could they take responsibility for another teenager, especially considering all the extra emotional and mental baggage Michelle was probably dealing with? What effect would it have on their lives, and Romi’s? In the end, they were both left with one prevailing question; In the long run, what would be best for Michelle?

The couple rose from bed begrudgingly. Neither had enjoyed much restful sleep. But they knew the duties of the day ahead, so they faced them bravely, though not eagerly.

After a quick breakfast, Henry headed for work, but not before kissing his wife and promising they would discuss the big issue when he returned. Flora and Romi left not long after, so the teen could be dropped off at school on time.

Throughout the day, each of the Giddings family was preoccupied with thoughts related to the question of Michelle’s well-being. Romi just wanted her friend to be happy, and she selfishly hoped that could be achieved in a place where the two could remain besties ... like the Giddings’ house. Flora had all but made up her mind already - there was no way she could sit by and watch that sweet, young girl be driven further into the foster care system. She and Henry had the resources to care for her, she was sure of it. And it wouldn’t be like bringing a stranger into their house; Romi practically treated Michelle like a sister anyway.

Distracted most of the day by his own nagging thoughts, Henry finally decided that though it would be challenging for him, it would be best for Michelle. Plus, the look on Romi’s face the previous night had already melted his heart. His lovely daughter would do anything to help her friend, even give up her favorite thing in the world – naked ‘special time’ with her Daddy. So, as much as he still knew he would be making sacrifices along the way by bringing another teen into the house, he couldn’t say no to Romi.

When he returned home, Flora announced that she hadn’t felt like cooking, so she’d ordered pizza instead. She and Henry went to the garage for some privacy while waiting for their dinner to be delivered.

For the next 20 minutes or so, the two tearfully informed each other of their respective decisions and their reasoning. Both hoped the other would just go along with their gut instincts. Or, at worst, that the other person would talk them out of it, citing some great reason for declining Romi’s request. Neither of them attempted to talk the other out of it. With some sniffles, they hugged and kissed, fully committed to the emotional, mental and legal hurdles that surely faced them.

Before Henry’s return from work, Flora had gone further than just thinking about it. She had called Child Protective Services and got the name of the case officer assigned to Michelle, a young lady named Jessica Herrera, freshly-graduated-from-college. Careful to avoid raising any flags, Flora chatted for a while with Jessica about Michelle’s well-being, sharing a genuine concern for the girl’s future.

Flora and Henry both agreed that they should try to get through dinner first, then they could talk with Romi about their decision. Otherwise, they might never get to the food. And so, after she, Romi and Henry wolfed down their pizza, Flora guided everyone to the family room.

“Mija, your father and I have made a decision about what you asked ... ya’ know, about Michelle living with us? Just so you know, this was not an easy decision ... not at all. There are lots of things to consider that you’re too young to even worry about; potential legal issues, financial questions, and Michelle’s own emotional and mental issues she might face, long-term.”

Romi’s face showed that she understood what her mother was saying. It also showed that she was preparing to hear an answer she didn’t want.

Flora continued, “Your Daddy and I discussed all those things ... in great detail. And we’ve decided to let Michelle live here, if she wants to.”

Romi exploded from her chair, leaping across the coffee table toward her parents with arms outstretched. Her face was a vision of sheer elation; her eyes wide with surprise, little tears of joy running down her cheeks, and a smile as bright as any star in the sky. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...” she muttered while sniffling back happy tears.

Henry smiled and caressed the teen’s back, gently comforting her.

Flora then added, “Now, you can’t say anything to Michelle yet. There are still a bunch of things your father and I need to do before she’ll be able to move in. But first thing tomorrow, I’ll call the social worker and we’ll go talk to Michelle ... probably have to pull her from class, now that I think about it. But anyway, once that’s all done, the social worker will take her to get her clothes and stuff from the foster home. I think I can convince them to bring her here right after that. And then, the real work will start.”

Romi shook her head, “Michelle can’t get phone calls at the foster home, so I’d have to wait ‘til tomorrow to tell her anyway.”

“Good.” Flora said. “That’s probably best for now. And don’t say anything to her tomorrow before class either.”

“Okay,” Romi replied, positively buzzing with excitement.

“Oh, and by the way,” Flora said, “for the short-term, we’ll have Michelle sleep in the guest room. But if she does end up staying, you’ll probably have to share your room while your Daddy’s remodeling that space for her.”

Romi shrugged. “Fine by me. I hadn’t thought of where Michelle would sleep – I just figured she’d be staying in there with me anyway.”

“No honey,” Flora said. “It’ll be best for both of you if she has her own room, trust me.”

“Okay.”

Flora looked over at Henry, who was still digesting the knowledge that he would likely have to remodel a bedroom in the near future. Resigned to it, he sighed and shrugged. Then, Flora pulled her daughter in for a tight embrace. The two shared a moment of grateful bliss, without the need for words. Flora then kissed her daughter on the forehead and looked into her eyes. “I know it’s a school night, but since it might be the last night before Michelle moves in, what do you say we have some ‘special time’?”

“Really?!” Romi excitedly asked. Her excitement suddenly ramped up from ‘buzzing’ to ‘manic’.

“But,” Flora warned, “we can’t make it a late night. Keep that in mind, okay?” She looked directly at her daughter, who nodded. Then, she turned her head to look at Henry, who smiled while rising from the sofa. He extended a hand to his wife, helping her stand, then did the same for his daughter. Giggling quietly with anticipation, they ascended the stairs together, making their way to the master bedroom.

The next several months were a daily grind for Henry and Flora. It seemed they were constantly either talking with their own lawyer, or Child Protective Services, or a litany of other ‘interested’ parties that hadn’t seemed all that interested in Michelle’s well-being before. Distant relatives suddenly seemed to crawl from the shadows, offering hollow platitudes of grief, ‘thoughts and prayers, and absolutely no tangible help.

Someone had to inform Michelle’s father, John, that the girl would still be in foster care, but residing at the Giddings’ house. Further, they had to inform him that the Giddings’ had filed a restraining order on him. Even if or when he got out of jail, he would not be allowed within 500 yards of Michelle, the Giddings residence or the high school. Thankfully, the lawyers agreed to handle the delivery of that delicate information. But, with the conjured image of a drunken John trying to molest his wife still rattling around in his head, Henry insisted on being present when John was informed of the restrictions.

For the vast majority of the meeting, which was held in a room at the county jail, Henry said nothing. With John shackled to a metal table, Henry thought about everything the man had been through, and he felt some degree of sympathy for him. “Shit,” he thought, “if I lost Flora, I might go crazy too. But I would never, ever let myself get so gone that it might put Romi in danger. Even at his worst, John had to see the pain that Michelle was feeling, and he didn’t do anything to help her – he just selfishly crawled deeper into the bottle, showing his true nature.” For those reasons, he couldn’t find true empathy for the man within himself, only pity. Truth be told, he didn’t think about the man at all on any normal day. But if forced to do so, he would simply roll his eyes and snort with derision.

What Henry, Flora and Romi didn’t know was that John had physically and emotionally abused Michelle ever since she’d begun puberty. The self-centered man had no idea how to navigate the bombastic waters of mood swings, disdain, loud tantrums and silence that followed the rush of hormones she experienced. So, he lashed out in the only ways he knew her mother would allow – loud ranting that blamed the young girl for all his woes, generally followed by spankings or restricting her to her own bedroom for days at a time.

Over the few years since her mercurial moods began to play havoc with her disposition, she’d been spanked by her father more times than she cared to recall. He always forced her to be naked for her punishment. He always used his bare hands on her backside, never a belt or switch, which might cut through her skin, leaving scars. He never grabbed her or yanked on her limbs, which might have left bruises or fractures. But he had a glower that brought cold fear to Michelle’s insides. It was understood that he was in charge. Inside the Parker house, his word was law. She quickly began to hate the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne.

In truth, he’d wanted to fuck the girl ever since she’d had her first period. The frustrated shit whistle of a man salivated when he spied Michelle’s athletic form. But she never showed any interest in him at all. Not even a goodnight hug once in a while. “That little cock-teasing bitch,” he thought to himself. On those nights when he felt especially horny, he would spend about 2 minutes trying to seduce his wife, and if she didn’t seem interested, he would forcefully take her, essentially raping the mother of his child. In her sheltered, Bible-trained brain, Linda simply thought that all husbands treated their wife’s pleasure as an afterthought, so while she didn’t enjoy it, she didn’t complain unless he physically hurt her in the process, which wasn’t too common, thankfully. And anytime she expressed concern over his treatment of Michelle, he gave her the glower while not-so-patiently explaining that he was simply ensuring the girl would grow into a respectful, God-fearing woman.

If Henry had known any of that, it’s likely he would have pummeled the man into the consistency of menudo a long time ago. If Flora had known any of that, she would have done everything possible to get Linda and Michelle out of there. If Romi had known it, she would’ve told her parents, which would have put Henry or Flora’s efforts into action. Or both.

In one of the meetings with the CPS folks, Jessica informed Henry and Flora that Michelle had asked her chances of being adopted. “There is a family that might be a good fit,” Jessica said.

“There’s a viable option already?” Henry asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Well, maybe,” Jessica told him. “She was asking if the two of you might adopt her.”

Henry and Flora looked at each other with surprise.

Jessica continued. “I told her that we’re all still in a kind of transition phase right now. And that even if you two did decide to adopt her, we wouldn’t be able to start that process for 12 months. She understood that but wanted me to bring it up with you.”

“Why didn’t she ask us herself?” Flora inquired.

“I think she was scared you’d immediately say no.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Henry said, holding up his hands. “We not saying that, okay? But ... at the same time, we’ll need to think about it. As I’m sure you can guess, there are a lot of things to consider.”

“Indeed,” Jessica nodded, “and it’s not always as easy as most people think.”

“We know.” Flora interrupted her. “Henry officially adopted my daughter several years ago.”

“Oh!” Jessica exclaimed with surprise. “Well then, you know all about it. But I must tell you, it might be more ... cumbersome since Michelle’s father is still alive. And with his sentencing still pending, it could get messy.”

“What do you mean?” Henry asked.

“Well ... if he gets a typical good ol’ boy judge, then he might not even have to do anymore prison time. They could deem the time he’s already been confined as adequate, then slap on a bunch of community service for good measure. God, I hope that doesn’t happen. But we have to be prepared for that eventuality. And if that does happen, he could petition to get Michelle out of foster care, taking her back home with him.”

“Nope. Uh-uh.” Flora shook her head adamantly.

“I feel the same,” Jessica offered. “I’m sure you’re both aware that Michelle had to attend some counseling sessions after her mother’s death, and after her father was arrested. Well, between you and me, I noticed some things in Michelle’s behavior that made me nervous about that man. She shows all the signs of a person who’s been traumatized by long-term abuse. It would be my recommendation that she never live in same house as him again. And I’ve made that known in my reports. But my word isn’t always enough against a determined parent, even one who’s not fit to raise a child. Sometimes, the courts decide the other way.”

Flora’s wisdom showed in her next question. “Should we get Michelle back into counseling? I mean, for her own well-being?”

“I think it would be wise to do that, even if it’s just for a while. Shoot, maybe the doctor will find that she’s healing and coping nicely and doesn’t need regular sessions. But from what I’ve seen, I believe it could benefit her greatly to have a regular session. Maybe once a week.”

“So, based on what you’ve seen, should we be looking for a psychologist or a psychiatrist?” Henry asked. Flora didn’t know the difference and showed her confusion.

“Probably best to start with a psychologist. After a session or two, they can give a referral to a psychiatrist, if necessary.”

“We’ll look into it,” Henry said. “We know a good psychologist here in town.” Silently, Flora squeezed his hand, knowing he was referring to the same doctor who’d helped her through her own mental challenges following the IUD fiasco.

Flora, still unsure of the difference between one head-shrinker and another, quietly asked Henry, “What’s the difference?”

Jessica interjected. “Typically, psychiatrists treat more ... complex issues, and they can prescribe medicine, if needed.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.” Flora replied.

Soon after, the meeting ended, and the Giddings couple promised to consider Michelle’s request. “We’ll let you know for sure after we’ve discussed all the details ourselves,” Henry told Jessica.

John Parker was convicted and sentenced to 15 years with no chance of parole at a state prison facility in South Texas. During his time inside, he became a well-regarded brewer and distributor of toilet wine. That was his only achievement during those cell-bound times. He’d been inside for less than a year when he was killed while standing in line in the mess hall. Apparently, looking down his nose like the closet racist he’d always been, John had disparaged someone important within the convict hierarchy about their Latin heritage, and the following day, he’d been stabbed more than 20 times with a shiv made from a sharpened toothbrush handle, puncturing his kidneys and his liver and causing him to bleed out before the guards could transport him to medical care. As a final ‘fuck you’, whoever did the stabbing had jammed the shiv into John’s groin, where it stayed. From then on, he was merely a cautionary tale for other inmates. “MS13 ain’t nothin’ to fuck with,” they all agreed.

Henry and Flora were informed of John’s passing and relayed the information to her as gently as they knew how. Expecting her to show grief over his death, the two were a bit surprised when she shrugged and said, “Good.”

“Honey,” Flora said, “it’s okay to be a little upset, if you feel like it. He was your father after all.”

Michelle shook her head. “I’ve hated him for a long time. And then he didn’t even try to help me or take care of me after mom died. I’m glad he’s gone.”

Flora rose from her seat and approached the girl with her arms outstretched. “Well, if you don’t mind, I wanna hug you anyway.”

With a quizzical look on her face, Michelle accepted the hug stiffly. But Flora held on. After less than a minute, the teen began to sniffle. Her body quivered slightly as she fought back tears. “It’s okay, baby.” Flora said, holding Michelle close and rocking gently left to right. “Let it all out. That’s right. Good girl.”

For another 5 minutes or more, the two stayed locked in their embrace. Flora allowed and encouraged Michelle to cry, to wipe her nose on Flora’s shirt sleeve, to get angry, if she felt like it. “There’s no wrong response to this kind of thing, honey,” Flora said, holding the teen close. “If you feel like crying, then cry. If you feel like screaming, then scream.”

“Just warn me first, okay?” Henry interjected. “If you startle me, I might pee my pants.”

That brought a welcome round of giggles to the room, along with some sorely needed levity.

After Flora released Michelle from the embrace, the teen approached Henry and wrapped her arms around his midsection, pulling him close. After a minute or two, she wiped her nose on his shirt too, then pulled back and thanked them both.

“I better tell Romi what’s going on,” she said. “After that, I think I’d like to be by myself for a while. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Henry said, trying to fight back empathetic tears of his own. “Just know that we’re both here for you, okay? If you feel like talking, we’ll be glad to just listen. We’ll get through this together, alright?”

Like anyone, Henry had his own little list of things he worried about daily. Or, if not worried about, then at least he spent mental cycles regularly focused on them. Obviously, some of those concerns had greater implications than others. Each and every day, he would ask himself what Flora needed from him. He had no lofty visions of himself as the ideal man or husband, but for her sake, he wanted to be. In addition, he worried about work. Since stepping into his role as the regional manager, his department had achieved astounding success. With such success comes a great deal of drive to surpass it. Already earning a salary that neared a quarter million dollars per year, and quarterly bonuses that drove that number much higher, he was no longer driven by a need for money. Instead, he focused on company growth and sustainability. Those targets seemed to move constantly and kept him engaged, driven to succeed.

He also worried about his college alma mater’s football team. They’d been less than stellar the past two seasons, which bothered him more than it should have. And along with all those niggling head-scratcher challenges, he also knew he had to be a good caretaker of his belongings; the property he owned, the house, Flora’s car, his truck, the yard ... they all seemed to need attention too often. Every time he took care of one problem, another two would pop up. He consoled himself in the knowledge that his situation wasn’t unique.

But nothing prepared him for the moment that Romi and Michelle both announced that they wanted to learn how to drive. Oh crap! How could he forget? Michelle was nearing her 16th birthday, and Romi would only be a few months behind her. Oh, the horrors he could imagine those two inflicting on all the unsuspecting motorists and pedestrians! Once he shook those images out of his head, he immediately began building a list of who’d be best suited to teach the girls how to drive safely.

He could do it himself, but he knew himself well, and it would be near impossible to lock away his own perfectionist approach. The girls would get frustrated before they learned to relax and be mindfully alert at the same time.

Flora was out. There was no way he wanted Romi to learn how to drive from her mother. As much as he loved everything about the woman, Flora was a stereotypical distracted driver. It wasn’t uncommon for her attention to be pulled from the road while she had the steering wheel in her hands, sometimes turning her entire upper body so she could look for something in the back seat. He’d softly admonished her for it over the years, and she’d improved some, but the girls would not be well-served by learning from Flora.

Then, it occurred to him that Jorge might be a good pick. But Henry was quickly dissuaded when he called to ask Jorge about it. “Oh no, hermano. I tried to teach my little brother to drive ... I got so mad, I was afraid I was gonna kill him ... pinche cabron.” Jorge chuckled to himself while recounting to Henry the near fist fight that happened so many years before, when Jaime insisted on doing everything his own damn way.

“That’s alright, Jorge,” Henry said. “I understand ... I really do. No problem. I might have the perfect person in mind. I’ll talk to you later, mi hermano.”

Henry then turned to his wife and said, “Honey, I think we should invite my mom to come visit.”

“That’s fine, you know I love her. But why now?”

“Well, she taught me to drive. Maybe she’d be willing to help the girls too.”

Without knowing that Henry had already decided against her doing it, Flora had secretly been dreading the act of trying to teach Romi and Michelle. She could imagine herself getting so frustrated that it broke into screaming matches, and she had no desire for any of that.

A little while later, Henry called his mom. After a long conversation about all the latest news in her life, he updated her on the latest family news and, specifically, Romi’s well-being. Then he told her about fostering Michelle and the heartbreaking ordeal she’d endured. Finally, he got to the original purpose of his call – to invite her down for a visit. Unsurprisingly, Delores was thrilled with the idea. “I haven’t seen little Romi in so long! And I’ll get to meet your foster daughter too? I can’t wait.”

Four days later, Delores arrived. “I got a rental car at the airport so we can use it for the driving lessons,” she told Henry. “I figured you’d rather have them scrape up a rental rather than one of yours. Plus, I paid for the insurance on it, so why not?”

After hugging Henry and Flora, she sat with them for a bit on the back deck, enjoying some wine. They chatted and caught up for almost an hour. Finally, Delores could wait no longer. “Where are the girls?” she asked.

“Probably up in Romi’s room,” Flora answered.

With that, Delores strode upstairs and found the two teens gossiping. She hugged Romi close, letting her know she’d been missed. Then, after Romi introduced the two, Delores pulled Michelle in for a matronly hug of her own.

For the next hour or more, the three ladies sat in Romi’s room chatting and giggling. Delores seemed less like a 60 something-year-old lady to them, and more like an aunt. They thought she was cool. Not in a lame ‘cool for an old lady’ way ... just cool.

Eventually, Flora called them down for dinner. Apparently, the girls had made the decision to bunk together and let Delores use Michelle’s room. Though Henry had intended to setup his home office for his mom to sleep in, utilizing the sofa bed that had never been used, he realized she’d be a lot more comfortable in the full-sized bed normally occupied by Michelle, so he chose to say nothing.

Over the next week, Delores spent time with each of the girls, teaching them to drive. In both cases, she approached it the same way she had with her son; by letting them drive in a wide-open parking lot of a church while she sat belted into the passenger seat, giving directions as calmy as possible. Delores made up imaginary stop signs, turning lanes and even surprised them by acting as if an invisible dog had run in front of their car. Sure, there were times when each of the girls showed their age and immaturity. But overall, they did very well, according to Delores. By the end of the week, she allowed each girl to drive from the church parking lot back across town to the Giddings’ house, calmly giving guidance as they dealt with the unpredictability of other drivers for the first time.

Before the end of that week, Henry took Romi and Michelle into the driveway and showed them how to change a flat tire. After he’d done it once, he wrenched the lugs back on tightly and told them it was their turn. Each girl had to jack up the car and change a tire by herself. He also showed them how to check the oil and other fluids, instructing them to do so regularly. “And someday, I’ll teach you how to drive a stick shift,” Henry promised. “But you won’t need to know that right away, so there’s no rush.”

After the reports from his mom and the instruction he’d given them, Henry felt more confident about both of girls taking to the roads on their own, when they could legally do so.

Michelle and Romi got study manuals for the written part of the license testing from their school guidance counselor and spent a surprising number of hours quizzing each other.

Since the arrival of Spring, the weather began to warm into the low 70’s in the late afternoons and had steadily risen with each passing week. This signaled to Henry that it was time to get the pool ready for use again, a project he attacked with eagerness.

Just two days later, the pool was ready for use. It happened to be a weekend, which was fortuitous, since it meant they could also spend the afternoon outside as a family. Henry barbecued, Flora and Delores prepared the sides, leaving Romi and Michelle to continue gossiping and quizzing each other about driving safety while splashing in the pool.

Even though he was wearing his Ray Ban’s, Flora could tell when Henry’s eyes darted to steal glances at Romi and Michelle in their bikinis. Though Michelle had grown a little taller and leaner since last summer, her bustline seemed to have stayed the same. And while Romi had grown to match Flora’s height, the fact that teen’s bust continued expanding was what caught Henry’s lustful eye. He silently wondered what size bra Romi was wearing, since he hadn’t heard from Flora about any new outings for new boulder holders, but she was clearly getting too large for last summer’s bikini. What he didn’t know was that Romi had begun wearing some of Flora’s bras, with her mother’s knowledge. Flora set aside her favorites, and a couple that were extra slinky, but gave the rest to her daughter with plans to replenish her own undergarment wardrobe in the near future. In Flora’s mind, there was no good reason to spend extra money on bras for Romi until she outgrew everyone else in the house. Which, based on her track record, wouldn’t take much longer.

Watching her husband’s expression and sly glances, Flora desperately wanted to get him alone and take advantage of his horned-up state. But since Delores would be staying with them for a few more days, Flora knew she’d have to come up with a plan to get her husband alone, and the rest of the house empty. Flora knew Henry all too well, and the sight of Romi’s jiggling talents combined with the supple, tight skin of both teens would have his motor running for sure. Smirking to herself, she sidled to Delores and said, “I’m so glad you could come visit, Delores. But as much as Henry and I love seeing you, Romi is over the moon with you here. And Michelle has been talking my ear off about how lucky I am to have a mother-in-law that’s so cool.”

All of that was true, though Flora was laying on thick. On purpose.

She continued. “It’s too bad you won’t get too much more time with them before you have to head back home...”

“Yeah,” Delores replied. “I feel the same way about those girls. They really are special people. So smart and kind at the same time. You should be awfully proud of the job you’ve done with Romi. And it’s clear that you’re having a similar impact on Michelle. Good for you, sweetie.” She hugged her daughter-in-law.

“Hey,” Flora said, “since they don’t have school in the morning, why don’t you take the girls to a movie tonight? The three of you could have a girl’s night out kind of thing.”

“That sounds like fun to me,” Delores responded with a smile. “I wonder if there’s anything good playing in a little town like this ... sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound bad,” the elder woman apologized.

Flora laughed and waved away Delores’ concern. “It’s fine. Trust me, I understand. But you can just call the theater ... there’s a recording of the movies and times.”