Part I: PartingChapter 1: ThursdayChapter 2: Intermission Chapter 3: Responsibility Part II: Conditional LoveChapter 4: SalvageChapter 5: Compomise Chapter 6: Appearances Chapter 7: Steadfast Chapter 8: Scorecard Chapter 9: Middle Chapter 10: Haunting Part III: The ReckoningChapter 11: DeparturesChapter 12: Endurance Chapter 13: Letters Chapter 14: Contrition Chapter 15: Waning Chapter 16: Intervening Chapter 17: Detour Chapter 18: Reunion Chapter 19: Exclusive Chapter 20: Gifts Chapter 21: Pennance Part IV: The Third EventChapter 22: ConfidenceChapter 23: Priorities Chapter 24: Dichotomies Chapter 25: Questions Chapter 26: Inattentiveness Chapter 27: Impetuous Chapter 28: Caged Chapter 29: Secrets Chapter 30: Family Chapter 31: Unfulfilled Chapter 32: Drowning Chapter 33: Persistence Chapter 34: Falling Chapter 35: Promises |
Chapter 8: ScorecardDr. Amy Boston was tired of people whispering around her. There was nothing she could do about it. She had grown to accept this; living in a small town did have its side effects.But they could ease up; it’s been five years. The whisperers paraded behind the façade of wanting what was “best” for the girls, and frankly, Dr. Boston whole-heartedly agreed that she wanted what was “best” too. The opinion, which separated the two interests, fell on the grounds of needing a father. Dr. Boston had long since given up trying to find a ‘replacement’ husband. She was enough of a parent for Christine, Jamie and Sara Ann to be a mother and a father. Though at times, the girls reminded her how tough it was. The twins had a father-daughter dance last month. There was nothing Dr. Boston could do or say that could ease the stigma of not having a father for that event. Amy had nearly bribed her ex-husband when Christine had been the same age. The twins tried to keep their mother from knowing about the impending event. It wasn’t until one of her parent-teacher meetings that she had been informed about the citywide event. Amy had ended up taking her daughters herself to the dance, but she knew in their eyes, it wasn’t quite the same. Amy had been given the gift of aging gracefully; it wasn’t uncommon for someone to mistake her and her eldest daughter, Christine for sisters. And it was this gift that often made the neighbors think that Dr. Boston was young enough to try marriage again. Her once rich chestnut brown hair was slowly turning silver and she had no desire to dye it any color. She knew her business of counseling, and often dressed the part. Only on weekends, did she avoid her business look opting to dress so that she could take an active part in her daughters’ varied activities. Jamie and Sara Ann still didn't understand the divorce entirely though it’s all they had known. Occasional reminders of why their parents lived separately unlike their friends’ parents were not uncommon. The stigma was slowly falling away, but it wasn’t without an uphill climb. Christine, graduating from high school this year, just wished her father, though not around, would be more interested in them. “He doesn't have to live with us, not even in the same town, but he could care to write or send a card. It doesn't take any effort.” She said after waiting a year to hear what he would say about her graduating this year. That lack of effort was the final drop in the bucket in their marriage according to Dr. Boston. It hurt her as much as it had hurt the girls. He cared very little for the final outcome of things, even when she had filed for the divorce; he had sat there like a stone, his lawyer stringing him about like a lead puppet. Dr. Boston, her husband, felt that as long as the girls were never in any trouble or giving any reason for alarm or worry, they were just fine. He had been that way while Christine was still an infant, and that same way when the twins were born. Many of the women in the town treated her with a slight awe. None had the “guts” to leave their husbands or even jeopardize the well being of their children for as long as they went to school. As a result, very few married woman in the small town of Concord had jobs. In addition, they were embarrassed, all of them, to admit to any problem that might have gone on behind the solid front door of their home. It had taken Nancy Caudill months to admit she and her husband were unable to have children of their own, now they did the “respectable thing” and opened their home to a foster child, in hopes of one day adopting a baby of their own. This foster child, however, was going to be more of a task to handle than Nancy had bargained, she turned to the only person she felt she could rely on, Dr. Boston. Nancy tentatively approached Dr. Boston at a charity function. Dr. Boston had been bored nearly to tears sitting at the table and looked unabashedly at her watch wondering what time she could sneak out of the event and not be missed. She was aware of fidgety person who took the seat next to her. “Dr. Amy Boston?” She looked up and smiled at Nancy. “I’m Nancy Caudill, the chairperson for the event. It’s so good that you could make it.” “It is a lovely venue.” Dr. Boston pulled out a few tricks from her bag of polite conversation. With couples and small groups milling around, Nancy actually had a few moments before she could be stolen away again. “I was wondering, what it might take to make um,” Nancy paused and then dropped her voice. “An appointment with you?” Dr. Boston smiled and reached into her purse and selected a business card. Discreetly, understanding Nancy’s apprehension, she slid the card face down. “Just call the number and my receptionist will be glad to help set you up.” “I don’t know if you know, but Paul, my husband, and I have taken in a foster child recently, we’re … having problems.” She admitted reluctantly. “It’s all right,” she reached over and patted Nancy’s leg. “We can talk about it then.” She gave Nancy a reassuring smile and Dr. Boston was mercifully rescued from further conversation by a gaggle of other event coordinators whisking Nancy away. The first appointment followed nearly a week later. Unlike her other patients, Amy had to schedule the Caudills on the weekend. Normally she wouldn’t, but since the girls had all their weekend activities to do Dr. Boston turned on the lights in the office on the cloudy Saturday. Sara Ann had her weekend soccer camp out of town, Jamie had her music lessons, and Christine, well, Christine was growing up, she needed more space. Space that was well deserved, especially since she helped put the twins to bed, and then help to make late night snacks when Dr. Boston finally came home. She helped make the single parenting easier. Dr. Boston had no problem with taking a few moments to open the office allowing the Caudills an initial meeting to see how they were getting along. Nancy Caudill’s circles were quite different from those of Dr. Boston. However, through a few social events and fundraisers that Dr. Boston found herself cornered into, she had met Nancy. Nancy approached her last week at another fundraiser function and asked her to come over and talk to her about Jessica. The housework had not piled up, so there would be plenty of time, and the girls wouldn't mind helping anyway. As a general rule, Dr. Boston avoided weekend mediations, but as a favor, Dr. Boston turned the lights on in the office this cloudy Saturday. “Hello Amy, how are you?” Called Nancy entering the comfortable lobby. Though five other doctors shared the lobby, it hadn’t been redesigned in nearly twenty years. While worn in some places, the furniture was definitely in good condition and helped accent the warmth and calm they tried to create for each patient. “Fine, thank you.” Nancy tried to hide her distaste for the furniture in the lobby. Thankfully, Dr. Boston ushered her in to her private office which was considerably more modern. “I'm at my wit's end, I have no idea what to do with Jessica, and she’s been so hostile.” Dr. Boston looked around for Paul and Jessica. Dr. Boston nodded perfunctorily, while picking up a fresh note pad and sitting across from Nancy as Nancy admired the photos of the girls on the desk. Nancy continued. “Her choice in music, Paul and I are tearing our hair out with that racket. How do you stand it?” “Parenting takes compromise. You may find that if you discuss things with Jessica, and listen to her, you might find common ground. Have you discussed it with her social worker?” Offered Dr. Boston. She had mastered the skill of writing while looking directly at her patient. Nancy was barely aware that Dr. Boston was taking exhaustive notes with a fountain pen. “What happens when you can't compromise, I've honestly tried, but Jessica doesn't want to. She confronting and hostile on every subject.” “About her hostility, has she indicated she might hurt you or herself?” Dr. Boston didn’t miss a moment when it came to children and their safety. Nancy looked appalled at Dr. Boston’s rapt attention to every word that spilled from her worry. “She’s very obstinate, but she’s never made any motion to hurt herself. She’s without a doubt going to hurt our reputation.” “Jessica wants to work so she can go to this club. Every time we discuss the actual attendance to such a program, she won’t listen to us. We only want what is best for her.” Dr. Boston nodded. “What is your main objection?” Nancy looked to Dr. Boston. “Surely you can imagine what a stir it would be if a child in our care was working. And then she insists on going to that club. When we took Jessica there to find out how she could join, one of the boys was beating one of the other boys into a pulp. It’s not a place for a young woman.” “What club was this?” “It's a martial arts club, she wants to go work there.” Mrs. Caudill stifled a groan. “What she isn’t telling you is that Mrs. Caudill doesn't believe that woman should fight, work or speak out. I’m surprised the feminist movement isn’t dead because of her. I’m sure there must be an anti-feminist organization somewhere in this town.” Jessica leaned against the entry to the inner office. “Jessica! How long have you been standing there?” Mrs. Caudill was shocked. “I just came in. And for the last time, don't call me Jessica. I prefer to be called Jessie.” “Jessica is your given name,” Mrs. Caudill had a flash back to the group home where they found Jessica and instantly knew how the social worker felt whenever this topic came up. “Pleasure to meet you Jessica.” Dr. Boston extended her hand. Jessie quickly compared the two women. Dr. Boston was older, quieter, but not by nature. There was a hint of familiarity and Jessie’s mind sought to remember where she had last felt like this. Instantly, Jessie realized that the woman standing before her and Christine shared the same bright blue eyes that did the smiling for them. “You're Dr. Boston, Christine's mother?” Jessie stepped down into the room and shook Dr. Boston's hand. “Do you share classes with her?” She asked as they sat down Jessie returned to the doorway, opting to sit on the stairs to the room. “Not yet.” Sensing the challenge in her voice, Dr. Boston asked, “What year in school are you?” Mrs. Caudill motioned for Jessie to join them; Jessie ignored it and stayed by the archwaydoorway, leaning against the wall. “They say I am a sophomore here, but I've checked, I can graduate at the end of this year. My classes will be changed next week, I’m in the accelerated program.” There was a smirk of pride; she knew if that it was an impressive accomplishment. “That’s very impressive Jessica. Have you thought about what you would like to do after you graduate?” “I'm not sure, I'd like to do some traveling. I've been toying with the idea of the Peace Corps, but I think I may just settle for a community college.” Clearly she had thought about being out on her own. Dr. Boston was very impressed. Dr. Boston was about to encourage Jessica to look into other options available when Nancy re-entered the conversation. “There's plenty of time for you to consider. Paul and I still aren't sure we should let you graduate.” “What other rules are there in the house for you Jessica?” asked Dr. Boston trying to get a feel for what was going on in the house. Jessie scoffed. “Rule number one, they make up the rules and will do so without warning.” “Jessica!” Mrs. Caudill was clearly horrified. “It’s the truth and you know it. Don’t act so surprised. If I could I would have been sneaking in and out of the house at all hours of the night, but I know how many buttons I can push without being flat out silly.” Jessie was very open. She knew without a doubt that Dr. Boston would remain neutral, she had been in enough counseling sessions to know and judge the type of professional that Dr. Boston held herself to be. Dr. Boston was mildly shocked. The Caudills didn’t want Jessie; they wanted a small child to see that their exemplary behavior is one of their station in life. Jessica felt their attitude was a lording, an excuse to hold Jessica against them. She understood Jessica's resentment. It wasn't that she was ungrateful, it was held because the Caudills were not able to sit and talk to her as if the decisions made by the Caudills for her involved Jessica. Dr. Boston glanced at the clock; it was the end of the Sara Ann’s music lesson. “Is it really four o' clock?” She asked and checked her watch. “I'm sorry Nancy, I really have to get back to the house, I promised Christine that I would get dinner ready and keep the twins out of her hair while she did some homework.” Lying in these situations came easy to Dr. Boston. But there was a glimmer of something in Jessie’s eye as if she caught her in the lie, but didn’t judge her based on it. “Well, thank you for having us.” Jessica stood up; Mrs. Caudill was surprised that Jessica had that in her. After escorting her only group out and locking the door, Dr. Boston got home in time to hear the twins rushing through the house. Later that night as she made permanent notes for the file, she noted that Jessica was not as difficult as the Caudills had her labeled. It was unfortunate that they would never see that Jessica was a very special person in their world.
Posted 200311.30-RHM |