Part I: Parting

Part II: Conditional Love

Part III: The Reckoning

Part IV: The Third Event

Chapter 20: Gifts

  The second page was a copy of the first page of a legal document that was drafted up. It emphasized that she was under no obligation to accept the responsibility of Jessie, however, Dr. Boston was far from not accepting the responsibility.
  “It’s from Jessie’s mother. She consented to give up her guardianship before she died. It is signed by the priest, the warden and a lawyer.” She wasn’t going to miss any of the bases was she?
  “Is Jessie coming to live with us?” The twins heard as they tumbled in the door.
  “We’ll need help, a lawyer, but would you girls want Jessie to come live with us?”
  The twins looked at each other grinning.
  “Yes!” Christine was equally emphatic.
  In the family courtroom, three weeks later, a friend of Dr. Boston stood before the judge. It was an unimposing courtroom unlike juvenile crime or even adult cases. Mediation was stressed, not legal action. The Judge barely looked imposing from behind his desk, but even then, the lawyers could see what he was doodling.
  “Your honor, under Dr. Boston’s care, Jessica has seeming left behind her troubled past. She’s graduating from high school with honors this June, a feat unheard of by most in the foster care system. Dr. Boston’s Championing behind Jessica’s efforts has proven beneficial. I ask that the court honor the late Abigail Raycraft-Marshall’s request and give full guardianship to Dr. Amy Boston.”
  The Judge was rather uninterested in the proceedings overlooking the folders before him that detailed Dr. Boston, Jessie’s complex case and the file that was Abigail Raycraft-Marshall.
  “What does the state say?” He turned a page in Jessica’s file.
  “With some reservations, we concur with the defenses’ request. Jessica’s temporary placement with Dr. Boston has proved more successful than any previous state arranged placement. We would like to observe this placement for up to a year before finalizing the placement.”
  The Judge sighed and rolled his eyes. He took his glasses off and leaned forward at his podium and looked directly at Dr. Boston.
  “Dr. Boston, how did you come to know Jessica Raycraft?”
  “Originally she was a member of a family therapy group, purchased by the family she lived with at the time.”
  “The Caudills?” he asked. He turned the page in Jessica’s file wondering if they could include a table of contents or some sort of other cheat sheet when it came to listing all the homes that the foster children were placed in. He flipped to her last placement looking over the evaluation given by the foster parents.
  “Yes.”
  The glasses returned to perch on his nose. “And the Caudills couldn’t control her? Jessica has not been an easy placement in the years she’s been in the foster care system.”
  “I don’t believe it was matters of ‘control’ your honor. The Caudills were new to the foster care system. Jessica was their first child, it was a matter of learning to adapt to each other.”
  The Judge nodded and tapped the desk with the barrel of his two-dollar pen.  “Dr. Boston you have three children of your own, are you prepared for the complications of a fourth, especially one that has special needs such as Jessica.”
  Dr. Boston paused for a moment and then spoke. “I am willing to provide Jessie with a home and guidance as long as she wants it. All of my children care for Jessie and hope she’ll be given a chance to stay with us.”
  “I see no reason to hold these proceedings any further. This court grants custody of Jessica Audrie Raycraft to Dr. Amy Boston. Social Services will follow-ups with observational visits at one month, six months and a year submitting the reports to the court. At one year’s time, providing all accounts are positive, the guardianship will be finalized.” The gavel came down.
  Hours later Jessie was hugging Dr. Boston tight in the hallway outside of family court. Jessie had come home. They walked to the judge’s office, the courts had decided to side with Abbie’s wishes and allow Dr. Boston to take care of Jessie. Part of this arrangement also allowed Dr. Boston to go over Jessie’s parent’s personal effects.
In the judge’s private office, there was a bailiff and five bankers boxes.
  “It’s all there. It took some finding though. One box of financial statements from your father Jessica, three boxes of personal items, mostly family photos, and the last box is from your mother. Her personal effects from prison were forwarded to us as well.” Dr. Boston signed the release forms.
  “You’ll need to return to us next month for a follow up, at that time the guardianship will be permanent, barring any unfortunate circumstances.” Reminded the Judge.
  “Jessica?” He addressed Jessie directly.
  Jessie looked up to the judge. “Good luck.” Jessie shook the judge’s hand and then helped Dr. Boston carry all the boxes out to the car.
  Dr. Boston and Jessie loaded the car with the boxes and Jessie’s two duffel bags.
  Alone in the room that she had first come to the Bostons in, Jessie stared at the three boxes that were for all intensive purposes, all she had left of her parents and Livvie. Finally, curiosity had overcome her. Her memories were distant and fading, and she had longed all this time to fill what Jessie had come to believe was a void in her life because of the countless foster homes and never really knowing her parents.
  She opened the first box, an assortment of unfilled images taken with a home camera were scattered in the box. She picked up the first one off the top of the haphazard pile and stared at it. She was sitting on her father’s lap while he was drinking a beer. She couldn’t remember the yellowed curtains, the chair, or even the day the picture was taken. But somewhere, she believed that this was what her father and Livvie tried to create for her. Jessie took a handful of photos and flipped through them hoping one might spark her memory, but truth was none would. The Jessie that may have existed in those photos had grown, and parted from the path that fate might have drawn for her had her father and Livvie never left. Jessie looked at what might have been in the images, not with sorrow, but with some resolve. She was on her own, for better or worse, and in some way, she believed that it was for the better.
  Finding peace in the photos that were hers, she closed the box lid and pushed the box aside. The second box was entirely Abbie’s. She broke the prison’s seal and opened the box. There were three books, a bible that had never been opened still sealed in plastic, and two journals. She randomly flipped through Abbie’s journals, stopping where the pages were thick, finding copies of her earliest report cards copied and sent to Abbie. There was at least an entry once a month, always on the fifteenth. Sometimes it was just a word: tired, bored, lonely were common entries. But Jessie found that once a year on her birthday, Abbie had made a real effort to fill a page or two. The soft paper covers on these two books were lightly dusty. Abbie stopped writing in them the day before she was executed. Abbie was not nearly as sentimental as Livvie appeared to be, but as Jessie skimmed some passages, she knew they shared one thing-love for Jessie’s father.
  Biting her lower lip, Jessie closed the two books and put them aside to look at later. There wasn’t much else. Abbie had spent quite a bit of her money that she earned weekly for cigarettes. The last thing in the box was a small plastic baggie with a thin gold band. Jessie opened it and shook out the ring onto her hand. She turned it over in her hand and read the inscription. 
  Everlasting Love, Hope and Faith.
  Maybe their marriage wasn’t forever, but it certainly was touching to Jessie. Simply in the band, there was everything that summed up Abbie and Mark. It would be the test of time even when all was lost. Abbie still loved Mark and in some ways, Mark would never have forgotten Abbie. Regretfully, Jessie wished she didn’t have this symbol of their union. Without a doubt, Abbie would have never taken the ring off had she not gone to prison. Jessie’s hand closed around the ring. And there were the rush of questions she’d never be able to ask either Abbie or her father. There wouldn’t be any hopes for her first kiss or her marriage. No one would honestly care.
  Maybe one day she’d understand differently, but for now, she slid the ring back into the bag and put it in the box.

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