Fireflies and Magnolias (12 page)

He jerked on the knob before he could lose all willpower and kiss her.

“Good night, Amelia Ann.”

The silence that rose between them was like the stillness before a tornado struck and destroyed everything in its path.

“Good night, Clayton,” she finally said in a voice he didn’t recognize.

He strode to his truck, fighting the urge to run. Getting the hell out of there was the best thing for both of them.

But as he drove away from her, leaving her unsmiling in the doorway, he felt as hollow inside as he had while walking away from his daddy’s grave earlier that day.

Amelia Ann was pouring herself some of the clinic’s ultra black coffee when Felicia entered their tiny break room.

“Wauneta Atkins of Project Hope tells me you two had a wonderful talk about a charity concert Rye Crenshaw’s giving to raise awareness and money for domestic violence. I hear you’re looking for women’s stories for some media spots during the concert and that you’re planning to show some pretty interesting before-and-after photos of the women as well.”

She’d known all along Felicia would hear about it, and part of her had dreaded it. She really hated people knowing Rye was her brother. She was proud of him, of course, but she didn’t like to be judged based only on her connection to her famous brother.

“Yes, that’s right,” she replied neutrally. “I expect Rye Crenshaw will make a donation to Community Legal as well.” At least that was her plan.

She’d met with the head of every shelter, making sure to send Clayton several brief updates to which he’d curtly replied,
Thank you.
Once. That was it. In response to her proposal of Susannah’s innovative idea for the collage, she’d finally received a different response.
You two are daring, aren’t you? Rye likes the idea so long as Susannah does the collage well, which we expect she will. Run it by me when she’s done, and I’ll give my input so we can finalize.

What she didn’t convey in her reports was the sheer delight the directors had expressed upon learning Rye Crenshaw would be making a sizeable donation to their organization. They’d pledged to immediately put out word that she was looking for three women to tell their stories in media spots for the concert. So far, she’d received twelve applications, which delighted her to no end since the deadline Clayton had given her was only a week away. Not all of the women applying were completely literate, so she’d agreed to interview anyone who was daunted by the written application over the phone. So far, their stories had moved her beyond words.

And the photos for Susannah’s collage were trickling in as well. The heads of the shelters had agreed it was time to show the public the true nature of domestic violence, the bruises and bumps and cuts that made people uncomfortable. Coupled with the photos of how the women looked today, healthy and whole, everyone agreed it would leave a lasting impression for years to come. Susannah had whooped and hollered when she told her their reaction. So far, she’d sent five sets of photos to her friend.

She wondered if the stories and photos would move Clayton when she daydreamed about him at odd times during her day.

“The clinic is a great cause, after all,” she babbled and then shut her mouth.

Felicia took her time stirring her usual four packets of sugar into her coffee. Her boss had an unrivaled sweet tooth and claimed sugar was her fuel. Considering the hours she worked, Amelia Ann could believe it.

“His donation would be most welcome. As you can see, we have a lot of need.” Felicia narrowed her eyes. “You’re pretty well connected for a law student.”

Could she dance around this one? “Not really. I only wanted to help support an important cause.”

“Hmmm.” Her boss sipped the steaming coffee. “I did some more checking on you after talking to Wauneta. Seems you forgot to mention Rye Crenshaw is your brother.”

Busted. There weren’t too many pictures of them together in the press, but they were there if you knew where to look. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one else was coming into the room. All clear. She still whispered her reply. “I don’t share it. It’s not my life, after all.”

“I wondered about you keeping it to yourself,” Felicia said. “Your internship at Kelly, Prentice & Stacks makes more sense now. Your brother got it for you, didn’t he?”

The origin of her internship didn’t bother her as much anymore. She’d made a name for herself there on her own merits. “Technically, my brother’s deputy manager got me the internship, which I didn’t know about in the beginning. In the end, it didn’t matter. I worked my tail off, and they learned I wasn’t just some celebrity’s sister playing at the law.”

Her boss’ laughter soothed the rigidity in her solar plexus. “No, you certainly aren’t playing, are you? Now that I know who you are, are you going to tell me why you’re working here when you could be volunteering at any of the top law firms in the city? They’d have much better coffee.”

Even though she and Felicia hadn’t known each other for long, working so closely together in such intense situations had forged a bond between them. One that made her comfortable enough to confide in her boss.

“My sister was abused by her now ex-husband. I didn’t…she never said anything, and I didn’t know what to do when I saw her bruised wrists.”

“How old were you?”

“Old enough.”

They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence for a moment, and as it warmed her belly, something else spread through her chest. Relief, she realized. She could share her deepest hurts here and still be welcome—unlike how she felt with the Vanderbilt crowd at school. The more she changed, the less she had in common with most of the other students she knew.

“My mother was abused by my dad,” Felicia told her. “A lot of the people who choose to be here have some personal connection to the work. I’ll give you a word of advice. Don’t make this job about righting old family wrongs. Just do the work. That’s enough.”

The other motto Felicia had drilled into her during training came to mind: Just show up. That’s all she ever asked of her employees. And Amelia Ann showed up each day with everything she was.

“I appreciate the advice.”

“Now, let’s talk about your follow-up interview today with Jasinda Parks. Unfortunately, Bettina just called in sick. No one else can get away to go with you, so even though I hate to do this when Jasinda’s so vulnerable and eager, I think we need to reschedule.”

“I’ve been on enough home visits,” she said immediately. “I can do it alone.”

Jasinda had waited a week to call and say she wanted to move forward with the protection order and separation. The next part of the process was on their shoulders, but they needed to act quickly since women who were in bad situations sometimes changed their minds if they were given too much time to reconsider. The home interview would provide critical information for the legal case.

“Plus you’ve trained me well.”

Most of what she’d learned had come from on-the-job experience. Felicia didn’t believe so much in protocols as common sense. Community didn’t have a guidebook for how to conduct a good interview or de-escalate a situation heading toward violence with a client. The majority of Felicia’s advice and guidance was based on her own practical experience.

Felicia poured herself another cup of coffee, clearly ruminating as she stirred in more sugar. “Okay, then. You can go alone. Sometimes we have to be flexible. This is why I need more grant money for staff. Heck, everything.”

Money was always a problem, and the clinic functioned on a shoe-string budget.

A gusty sigh blew the steam billowing from Felicia’s coffee. “Ignore me. I’m having a moment. Just remember, you do what the client wants. First, last, and always. Assess the home situation and—”

“Take good notes,” she finished. “Felicia, I know what to do, and I won’t break the cardinal rule by doing anything Jasinda doesn’t want.”

It was a hard lesson that Felicia had driven home from the very beginning of her time at the clinic. No matter how horrible a woman’s injuries, they couldn’t force her to call the police or leave her husband.

Her boss patted her on the back, a rare gesture that made her smile. “Go on, then. And don’t come back here when you finish. It will be close to the end of your shift. Just type up your notes as soon as you get the chance.”

“I know, I know. While it’s fresh in my mind.”

“I do believe you’re getting to know me well, Amelia.”

They shared a look. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck is for people who create it,” Felicia said and walked out of the break room. “Text me if you need anything.”

After finishing up the protection order she was working on for another client, Amelia Ann drove to Jasinda’s house across town. By bus it was an hour, but Amelia Ann arrived in thirty minutes. She’d thought the law clinic was in a bad neighborhood, but the area where Jasinda lived was so dangerous that no social services existed there, having been forced out by crime and gang harassment.

Jasinda’s apartment complex was one of those bring-your-own-light bulb motel types. The parking lot’s asphalt hadn’t been paved in what looked like a century given the mammoth cracks. The atmosphere was so dry and dirty and lifeless that even the weeds were dying.

And the smell...it was foul and metallic—overpowering even from the inside of her car. She continued her assessment of the living conditions. Garbage overflowed from a receptacle that hadn’t been emptied in some time, and she cringed at the sight of a few furry creatures with long tails streaking through it. The sad fact was that even garbage services were afraid to visit neighborhoods like this one. Considering all the broken or burned out windows and the vulgar graffiti that coated half the buildings she could see, it wasn’t hard to understand why.

Her biggest concern was the small gang of young men who were playing rap music by an old, beat-up white Cadillac with shiny rims. Jasinda was on the second floor, and she’d have to pass them to get to the stairs. It didn’t matter that she’d dressed down in jeans, a sweatshirt, and a nondescript ball cap she kept in her glove compartment for her home visits. It didn’t matter that her pretty blond hair was pulled back.

She was a woman. And men in this part of town preyed on people like her. They cat-called and crowded women because no one would stop them.

Her hands were already sweating, her heart racing. This was worse than she’d expected, but she wasn’t going to cave. The fear of leaving her car nearly paralyzed her muscles, but her client lived here. She had a job to do, so she firmed her shoulders and opened the car door.

The men had been watching her vehicle, and the Alpha in the group pushed off his hood as she approached.

“Well, well, if we don’t have one fine mama coming to visit our hood today. Who are you here to see, honey? Because you’re going to be a little late. You and me have some business to attend to. Right, boys?”

The other men made horrible
mmhmm
and
uhhuh
sounds that gave her a chill. No one would help her if he continued to harass her.

She’d planned to ignore them like she’d been taught, but the Alpha sauntered to the stairs and blocked her passage. The others closed around him, forming a half circle to block her retreat.

“Sorry, but I have a friend to meet,” she said in as even a tone as she could muster, meeting his eyes.

They were red-rimmed, but he wasn’t on drugs. She knew the difference now, as Felicia had pointed out the signs to her at the clinic. Anyone on drugs was asked to leave Community.

“Step aside,” she said with more edge in her voice.

“Oohh, skinny girl has some teeth,” Alpha said, bumping her with his body. “Usually I like me some curves, but in your case, sweet thang, I’ll make an exception.”

Go with strength
, she decided. “In your dreams,
sweet thang.
Now, get out of my way.”

Her heart beat madly in her chest as he stared at her for a few seconds without looking away. Finally he held up his hands. “Your loss, sugar. Ask Marietta at the top of the stairs about taking a ride with me. You might change your mind
.”

“Cam, you let my friend pass.” Jasinda stood at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips. “Right now.”

“She’s a friend of yours, Jasinda? Why haven’t we seen her around before?”

“She’s a new friend.”

“Does Damon know about your new friend, Jasinda? You know how jealous he is of anyone taking up your time.”

“Damon’s gone to visit some friends. He won’t mind me having one over. Come on up here, Amelia Ann.” Jasinda held out her hand.

“Amelia, huh? Now that’s a pretty name for a pretty lady.”

“And you are so full of shit,” she told him as she passed him.

His boys went “Ohhh…” like a chorus, and she heard a scuffle below. Though she didn’t look, she expected it meant someone had gotten shoved by the defeated Cam.

She forced her legs not to run up the stairs, away from them. God, how did Jasinda live with this kind of harassment every day? She’d experienced her fair share on other home visits, but no one had ever caged her in like that before. When she reached the top of the steps, Jasinda grabbed her hand and pulled her down the balcony, past a pasty blond-headed woman sitting in a folding chair outside of an apartment.

“Cam does give a good ride, honey,” the woman called out.

“Ignore her,” Jasinda said. “Marietta trolls with anyone when she’s high.”

Though her insides were quivering, Amelia Ann realized she wasn’t the only one who was afraid. When they reached the door, Jasinda’s hands shook as she unlocked it.

Calvin and Kylie immediately rushed forward and hugged their mother’s legs. “Let me lock the door, chickens.” Jasinda fumbled with the deadbolt and three chains before turning around.

The woman she was visiting looked like she was about ready to rabbit, the whites of her eyes shining bright in the muted light from an exposed bulb hanging from the cracked ceiling by wires.

“Cam’s going to tell Damon you were here,” Jasinda told her, patting the two kids, who were still clutching at her faded brown cotton dress. “I can feel it. He and his boys are always down at the local bar at this time of day. I thought it would be safe for you to visit. You said you needed to come here so we could move forward.”