A Sister's Forgiveness (20 page)

“Not really,” she murmured, thinking about how little she and Geoff shared.

Zeke frowned but made no comment. “You should call Emma.”

“I know.” But she couldn’t bring herself to promise that she would. Besides, there were circumstances beyond what Zeke or others might think that kept her from reconnecting with her sister. As Geoff had reminded her on more than one occasion, things had changed. She still woke up every morning thinking that if she hadn’t taken Sadie for her learner’s permit, none of this would have happened. Then just as quickly she would repress that thought, unwilling to pile guilt on top of the already staggering load of her grief.

Emma had left numerous phone messages—none of which Jeannie had responded to, all of which she had saved. One morning her sister had even taped a note to their back door. Jeannie had found it when she came back from her run. “I’m here,” it had read. “Call when you can.”

Jeannie cradled the angel wings in one palm, fingering them as Zeke navigated around the sandbars of the bay. It was an unusual day for September—cooler and less humid. A perfect day for a boat ride. Jeannie was so very tired of the pain and the sadness and the pressing stone of loss she carried with her every minute of every hour. She leaned back and closed her eyes as Zeke guided the boat up the channel to the creek that wound its way to Pinecraft.

“So, about Emma—you’ll call her?” Zeke pressed.

“Can we just talk about something else—just for now?”

“Why talk at all?”

Jeannie gave him a half smile. “Sometimes it helps to remind myself that the rest of the world has moved on even though our world…”

“Oh, you want normal, do you? Right. Well, the fruit co-op is booming. Hard to keep up with everything, and here we are on the brink of a new growing season. First calls are starting to come in from folks wanting to schedule the volunteers to come pick fruit from their yards.”

It had been a little over a year since Hester and others had organized volunteers from the Mennonite community to offer a service of collecting fruit from the yards of private citizens requesting the service. The fruit was then delivered to a packing house on the property that Zeke’s brother, Malcolm, had purchased and set up as a foundation for the project. There Zeke and others from the community who were homeless or preferred a more unorthodox lifestyle came to sort and box the fruit and deliver it to the various food pantries in the area.

The project mirrored the work of similar co-ops operating as far west as California and as nearby as Tampa. But the Pinecraft co-op also offered Emma’s strawberry jam as well as homemade orange marmalade and pies for sale at local farmers’ markets. “Like I said, it’s starting to get busy, and we could use some help. Might be good for you to come on back, as well. I mean, now that Geoff’s gone back to work and all.”

Jeannie and Emma and their daughters had volunteered regularly at the co-op from the day it first opened. Sadie had been a wonder at getting local publicity for the project, and Jeannie’s phone had rung constantly with homeowners wanting to schedule a pickup of fruit from their yards. Tessa had been responsible for setting up a schedule that kept everything running smoothly.

Lars used to call them “the Fruit Loops” with that dry sense of humor that was his trademark. How Geoff had laughed at that. He and Matt had picked up on the tag and even made up a song about it.

They had laughed together so often through the years. Jeannie could not imagine laughing over such silliness ever again.

“I’ll tie up at the park, and we can walk from there to your house, okay?”

“Sure.” Leaving the boat at the park meant walking through Pinecraft to reach her house, which could mean crossing paths with Emma. Jeannie mentally ran through her sister’s routine. It was Thursday. On Thursday she joined other women for the weekly cleaning of the church.

“Emma’s in court today,” Zeke said, reading her mind. “No worries.”

But Jeannie did not miss the hint of sarcasm with which he delivered his trademark phrase, and for the rest of the trip, he said nothing more.

Chapter 22

Emma

O
n the day that Sadie’s hearing was to begin—and possibly end—Lars and Emma arrived at the courthouse early. They parked in back and then walked past Joseph Cotter’s small office, peering in the window to see if the young lawyer was inside.

“He’s probably already left for court,” Lars said.

Inside the courthouse lobby, they endured the curious glances of the uniformed staff as they went through the security checkpoint and then took the stairs to the third floor as instructed.

“This way,” Lars said, pausing a minute to check room numbers. The corridor was carpeted and there were chairs and benches outside the closed doors that lined the wall opposite a wall of windows. “This one,” he said, stopping at one of the doors and then trying the knob. It was not the courtroom where the arraignment had taken place. That courtroom was two doors down the hall.
So many courtrooms
, Emma found herself thinking, and she couldn’t help but think that if the system needed more than one courtroom to handle all of the problems coming before the judges, then perhaps the world had far bigger problems than she’d ever imagined.

The door was locked. Through narrow glass windows to either side, Emma could see that the room was identical to the one they had been in three weeks earlier. Chairs like those she and Lars had sat in when Sadie was arraigned were lined up to either side of a center aisle and were separated from the area where the court’s business would take place by a low polished wooden wall.

“We’re too early,” she said and took a seat on one of the benches positioned so that she could continue to monitor the activity in the courtroom. She tried to imagine Sadie riding in the locked van from the detention center in Bradenton. Would she be with other teens or alone? Emma hoped that she was alone, although what did it matter?

“It’s not so bad,” Sadie had told them every time they visited her. “They keep us busy from the time we get up until we go to bed, so the time passes.”

“How’s school?” Lars asked her every time, his repetition of the same question only emphasizing the fact that there were topics they would not raise and there was little else to talk about.

Sadie had smiled wistfully. “It reminds me of the Mennonite school. Every girl has her own work to do. You know there are all ages in here. The youngest is only ten,” she whispered.

Ten years old
, Emma thought as she watched Lars pace down to the elevator where he stood reading some sign.
What could a ten-year-old possibly do that would result in her being locked up?

A woman dressed in tan slacks, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket took a seat on the next bench over. Emma glanced at her, but the woman paid no mind. A few minutes later, an older African-American woman came down the hall from the direction of the elevator and joined the first woman.

“I can’t have her moving back home,” the older woman said. The first woman nodded. “I have the other children I have to consider. Last time she was sent home she got so mad she threw the television across the room. Smashed it to smithereens.”

The other woman made a noise of sympathetic understanding, and Emma shuddered. Was this girl being held in the same place Sadie was? She prayed not and then prayed for forgiveness for eavesdropping, but as Lars continued pacing the corridor, she found herself leaning closer to listen to the two women.

“She lied to my face,” the younger woman said. “We have the whole thing on video. She knew we did, and yet when I asked her if she hit that girl, she said no.”

The woman that Emma had decided was the mother of the girl in question sighed wearily. “She does that all the time—lives in a world of her own, that one. Her mother was the same.”

So, she’s the grandmother
, Emma thought.
So young
.

There was a moment’s pause, and then the woman in the leather jacket said, “So you’re on board with our sending her away?”

The grandmother nodded. “I don’t see any other solution. You’ve tried everything possible—counseling, medication. None of it works. Maybe if she realizes she’s not getting out for a good long time, she’ll change.”

Emma was incensed. How could any mother—or grandmother for that matter—just give up on a child the way this woman seemed to be doing?

“She’s a very angry girl,” the younger woman agreed.

Then help her
, Emma wanted to tell them.
Hold her. Pray with her. Anything but give up
.

“She doesn’t believe for a minute that she’s going away,” the grandmother said.

Why should she? It’s unimaginable that a child…

Lars had stopped pacing and had come to sit beside her. He was looking at her with a worried frown. “Emmie? Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she lied and immediately sent up a silent prayer for God to forgive her. “No. What if they send Sadie so far away that…?” she whispered.

“One step at a time,” Lars said, his voice tight. “You know what Joseph told us. Today the state will present its case, and then Joseph will tell Sadie’s side of things. Remember, he said that it’s unlikely the judge will decide today.”

“And she’ll have to go back to that place?”

“Joseph is going to try to argue for her to be released to us. He seems to think that he has a pretty good chance of getting that.”

There was a rustling of clothing on the bench next to them as the two women got up and entered the now-open courtroom. Lars and Emma followed them, taking seats in the front row behind what they had learned at the arraignment was the defense table. The other two women sat across the aisle from them, and gradually the chairs behind them filled in with people who had business with the court.

In front of the low banister that separated them from the officials who would soon fill that area, Emma saw the state’s attorney talking to his assistant. His last name was Johnson, she recalled. When it was time to begin, the judge would enter the courtroom from a side door behind the high counter where he sat. For now, in addition to Mr. Johnson, she counted the bailiff, the clerk responsible for recording the proceedings, and a couple of uniformed people she had seen when Sadie was arraigned. There was no jury for a juvenile case and no sign of the young man Lars had hired to defend Sadie.

“Joseph is late,” Emma whispered then turned when she heard the door to the hallway open and close. A man and a woman entered the courtroom. They glanced briefly at Emma and Lars and then took a seat across the aisle and behind them.

“Dan’s parents,” Emma murmured, nudging Lars. “Why would they be here?”

Lars shook his head. “Don’t know, but here comes Joseph.”

The young attorney, looking not quite put together, entered the courtroom from a side door and nodded at them as he placed his brief case on the defense table and then turned to greet the state’s attorney.

Emma laced her fingers tightly together as she watched the two men converse. They were both smiling at first, but then she saw how Joseph started to frown and shake his head. The state’s attorney moved a step closer to Joseph to make his point. Both men seemed agitated—that could not be good for Sadie.

“Lars,” she whispered and almost added, “do something.” But what could he do? They had already tried everything they could think of. At Sadie’s arraignment, Pastor Detlef and other leaders of the church had sat with them, and Joseph had assured them that the judge had taken note of this.

Even so, she had never felt so powerless. Her unrelenting prayers for God to show Sadie mercy seemed to fall on deaf ears, and yet she knew that there was some plan in all of this. Tessa’s death, Sadie’s arrest, the destruction of two families that had been so close. What could possibly be accomplished by such tragedies? And why one piled on top of another this way?

Just last night she and Lars had tried to answer Matt’s questions—impossible questions about why God would test them this way. At least that was the explanation that Emma had come up with for herself. This was all a test—like Job’s faith being tested over and over again. “This is our Job moment,” she had told Matt.