As if she had read his mind, she said, “You’ve done a lot for my son, Mr. David. I’m not gonna let you down.” She looked at him earnestly. “I’ve been clean for two years. I’ve started a Bible study group. Prison’s been good for me. I lost my boy once, and praise be to God, he ended up with someone nice like you. But I swear, I’ll never risk losing Anton again. Never again.”
He’d heard some variation of the same speech in court too many times to be particularly impressed by her words. Juanita was obviously sincere, but good intentions meant squat when faced with the temptation of a highly addictive drug. She’d be lucky if she stayed clean for six months once she was out of prison.
He shifted restlessly in his chair as he glanced at the wall clock above the woman’s head. She still had the long drive back to the prison. It was time to cut to the chase. “Ms. Vesper,” he said, leaning forward. “Let’s talk candidly, shall we?” He paused, taking in her puzzled look. “It’s about Anton, of course.”
David lay in bed, careful not to express his mental agitation in the movement of his body, for fear of waking Delores. It had gone well. About as well as he could’ve expected. He had won. At least he thought he had. He had gone through too much, had risked too much, for any other outcome to be possible. Pulling an inmate out of prison to meet with her surreptitiously? If word got out, he would lose his legal license. And needless to say, the ensuing scandal would destroy any political aspirations he might have. The worst of it was he would take Smithie and Connor down with him. He had taken the biggest gamble of his life, and he’d done it because the payoff was so enormous. So it had to work. Had to.
Anyway. It was done. Almost done. He had gotten Juanita Vesper to see what he saw so clearly. He had painted a picture of what he could do for her son. And to give the woman her due, she appeared to get it. The magic word had been “college.” When he’d said that he could afford to send Anton to whatever college he chose, anywhere in the country, he had heard her involuntary gasp, and her eyes had shone with a sudden light. He felt a begrudging respect for her then. Did she know how much one year of a good college cost? he’d asked her, and she’d shaken her head. When he’d told her, she’d said, “That’s more money than I earn in three years.”
And so he had pressed home his advantage. Told her that Anton was now taking piano lessons, was on the swim team, had excelled in science class. That he could take French in high school if he wanted. She had listened to him with her mouth open, as if hearing a fairy tale.
But she was still unsure, resistant to the idea of losing her son forever, and even though he understood her resistance and respected her for it, it made him impatient. And afraid. So he had said it. Said the cruel lie even though each word was like hitting her in the face with a mallet. He could literally feel her absorbing each blow, reeling from it, getting weaker and weaker. He persisted because a strange thing happened—the more he spoke, the more he believed what was coming out of his mouth. If a lie could ever be the truth, then this was it. And when he was done, she disappeared behind her own face, was swallowed up whole, and the devastation he’d wrought was so perfect that he had to look away. He stared at the ceiling, not daring to look in her direction, and finally, after God knew how long, she whispered something he didn’t catch. When he looked at her, she nodded quietly and said she’d think about what he’d said, think about it real serious. That she wanted what was best for her Anton. And then she thanked him again for what he was doing to help her son.
David turned his head slightly to gaze at his wife. He was glad that Delores had been asleep by the time he’d gotten home. She would have picked up on his agitation, and he didn’t want to answer her questions tonight. If Delores ever found out what he’d done, she would leave him. Of this, he was sure. And there was always the chance that Juanita would not give up Anton without a fight. David had to step lightly now, find a way via long distance to keep up the pressure on Juanita until she actually turned custody over to the state. Perhaps Connor, with his vast contacts in Children’s Services, would know how to proceed? Or should they simply give Juanita a few days to think things over and allow her to make the first move? The woman had seemed nearly convinced by the time she got back into the van, she really had.
David rolled carefully onto his side. He stared at his wife’s face, which even in repose carried the sadness that had claimed it from the moment she had found out about James. Closing his eyes, David imagined what it would be like to have Anton with them forever. Would the promise of that permanence finally wipe some of that anxiety off Delores’s face? Or would it create a new anxiety? Fostering a child had mostly been his idea, but tonight he was suddenly unsure why Delores had acquiesced. Had she agreed only to please him? Or was having a child in the house something she also desired for herself? David sighed. How was it possible to love Dee as much as he did and yet not know the answers to these basic questions? He remembered the awful days immediately following James’s death. He had needed his wife so desperately to keep him from going under. And Dee had been there for him, she really had. But when he’d tried rescuing her back, she had spurned him, walled herself off. Something new—a formality, a guardedness—had crept into their marriage.
He would be so much more careful with Anton. With James, he hadn’t been vigilant enough. The two boys and their dates had eaten at their house before leaving for the prom, an elaborate steak dinner that Delores had prepared. David had taken several pictures of the four of them, kids he’d known their entire lives, looking hilariously adult and heartbreakingly young in their tuxedos and gowns. And just before they left for the prom, he had made James promise not to drink and drive. Stupid, stupid him for not thinking about the other drivers out on prom night.
His left leg began to twitch, and he forced himself to take some deep breaths. A new beginning, he said to himself, and the thought comforted him enough that he said it again. A new beginning. A new beginning. Please, God, a new beginning.
And with that, David Coleman fell into a fitful and troubled sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It took Juanita three weeks to make up her mind to relinquish custody. David could scarcely believe the news when he got the phone call from a caseworker at Children’s Services. Before hanging up, he broached the subject of a permanent adoption, and the woman at the other end of the phone sounded pleased.
Anton was over at a friend’s house, so David broke the news to Delores soon after he got home, careful to leave out the part about adoption.
“I don’t understand it,” Delores kept repeating. “Something must’ve happened to that poor woman in jail. I mean, why would a mother willingly give up her child? It doesn’t make sense, David.”