“Hmm. Not good. So you’ll have Skylar at home, and he’ll be eligible for special-education services, but you’ll be hauling him back and forth to the school for those. The judge will be comparing that to the glossy, professional gleam of a special school.”
“An institution!”
Karen took another drink. “We can’t afford to put special-ed institutions on trial, Debba.”
“So what should I do?”
“One thing would be to find out what your ex really wants. Lower support payments? Different visitation? Maybe he’s tired of paying his half of Skylar’s non-covered medical expenses.”
“Maybe he’s sincere,” Clare said.
Debba and Karen looked at her.
“Maybe he really believes that Skylar needs something different now that he’s reached school age. Maybe he’s worried about Whitley not having been vaccinated.”
“Hah,” Debba said.
“Regardless, unless Debba wants to give up custody, she needs to figure out a way to counter his position. I think the first thing will be to find another M.D. who’s willing to state that the kids are in excellent health and that Skylar’s doing well under the current program.” Karen jotted a note on her legal pad. “Are you sure Dr. Rouse will back your husband instead of you?”
“It’s that son of a bitch’s fault I’m in this mess,” Debba said.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Would you consider changing your position and getting Whitley immunized?”
“No.”
“What about at a different venue?” Clare asked. “Someplace where you could feel sure that the vaccinations were mercury-free?”
“No.” Debba thumped the table. “It’s not just the mercury, you know. We’ve been letting the medical establishment put living viruses in our bodies for years now. Look at the unexplained rise in autoimmune diseases and asthma. Were you aware that while the flu vaccination rate went from thirty-five to sixty-five percent, the mortality rate from flu has increased a hundredfold?”
Clare lifted the teapot. “Couldn’t that reflect the fact that there’s a lot more old people around than there used to be?”
“Let’s stay on point, people.” Karen tapped her mug handle with her pen, a risky move in Clare’s mind. “Debba, I need a list of everyone involved in Skylar’s care.”
Clare breathed in a cloud of fruity steam as Debba gave Karen the names of therapists, counselors, special-ed techs, and relief caregivers. She thought about her conversation with Laura Rayfield, the clinic’s nurse practitioner. It was one thing for Debba to risk everything to protect her children from harm. But if there was no real harm? Should she be counseling Debba to give up her crusade against vaccinations? And what could she say to persuade her? Debba’s beliefs about the evils of immunizations had the strength and conviction of religious faith. How would I react, Clare wondered, if someone tried to persuade me that God was a figment of my imagination, and that I should stop wasting my time with all those silly rituals?
“Clare?”
She jerked her attention away from the mug of tea. “Hmm? I’m sorry, what?”
“Would you be willing to testify about the incident at the clinic?” Karen asked.
“Testify?”
“As to how Debba was distraught but not violent.”
“I can certainly testify that she put the stool down and didn’t offer any violence toward anyone after I got there,” Clare said carefully. She looked at Debba. “I can’t say what’s happened in the past. I don’t know if you’ve had any other incidents.”
Debba shook her head, sending her spiraling curls bouncing. “No. I’ve picketed the clinic lots, and I admit Rouse and I have had some shouting matches, but never-no. I was just pushed over the edge that day when I got the letter from Jeremy.”
Clare’s heart sank. Debba wasn’t going to rise to the bait and spill all about her history of marital violence. She reached for the honey bowl and unenthusiastically spooned some of the drippy stuff into her tea. Now what? She had always kept whatever Russ had told her in strictest confidence.
No, that wasn’t true. She had blabbed private information to a reporter, on camera. In her defense, it was because she thought lives were at stake. But she had been wrong, and she had regretted it.
She sipped the tea, wrinkling her nose at the taste. It would have been greatly improved with a shot of bourbon. Better still, go straight to the bourbon and skip the tea. Karen was going on about financial and medical records, and Debba was taking down what the lawyer recommended. Considering the emphasis Karen was placing on past behavior, how important would those fights loom? They must have taken place over six years ago, if Russ was right, and they had stopped brawling when Skylar arrived. Clare took another sip. The tea didn’t improve with familiarity. Would Debba’s ex-husband even dare to bring up the matter? It would reflect as badly on him as on her. More.
“Mamamamamama,” a small voice wailed from its playroom exile.
The door at the back of the kitchen opened. Lilly poked her head in. “Sorry, Karen, but your little one is getting pretty fretful. Do you have-”
Cody Burns broke through the line and pelted across the kitchen floor for his mother, who scooped him up onto her lap. He turned his face into her shoulder and clutched at her with the arm that wasn’t holding Squeaky the Squirrel.
“Hey, little boy. What’s the matter? Are you a sleepy baby?” Karen looked up at them. “I think we may be running into nap time. Can we continue this another time?” She sniffed. “Whoo. We need a diaper change before beddy-bye. Lilly, where’s the bathroom?”
Clare put the lumpy mug down. She couldn’t tell Karen what she, in confidence, had been told by Russ. Nor could she let Debba know she had some private police information about the artist’s past. “Debba,” she said, after Karen had slung her baby bag over her shoulder and followed Lilly down the hall. “I’d love it if we could take some time, just the two of us, to talk about how this is affecting you. I can see you have a terrific support person in your mother, but sometimes it helps to let your feelings out with another person.”
Debba pushed her cloud of hair back with both hands. “Funny you should mention that. I’ve just been thinking, lately, how stressed I’m feeling. And I think part of it is, I’m trying to be real strong and upbeat for my mom. She has enough to deal with without worrying about me. I have to tell you though, I’m not particularly religious.”
Clare laughed. “If the only people I talked with were particularly religious ones, I’d have a lot of free time on my hands.” She stood up and dug into her skirt pocket. “Here’s one of my cards, to trade for yours. It’s got all my numbers on it, although you’ll take your chances if you try to reach me by cell phone.” She made a face. “I got one last winter after I was in an accident, but I didn’t realize that all these mountains mean I can only get a signal if I’m headed down the Northway toward Saratoga.”
Karen toted Cody back into the kitchen. “Oh, cell phones are useless around here. You should do what Geoff and I did, get a satellite phone. It’s a little more expensive, but it’s worthwhile. So reliable.”
Clare caught Debba’s eye. They both bit back grins.
“Clare, will you hold Cody while I get my stuff together?” Karen thrust the baby into Clare’s arms. Cody drew back, eyeballed her, recognized a face he knew, and promptly butted his head against her shoulder. Karen and Debba had put their heads together over their calendars and were trying out different dates and times for their next meeting. Cody stuck his thumb into his mouth and began to rhythmically squeak the squirrel.
The weight of him always surprised Clare, the solidity and size of him. Somehow, she always expected the fragile, kitten-sized bundle she had first seen, the awe-inspiring, panicky thought she had first had: This baby’s life is in my hands. She wondered if this was what motherhood felt like. She wondered if she would ever know.
There was a tug on her skirt. She looked down to see a tiny girl, with kinky blond hair identical to Debba’s, staring at her. “Hi,” the girl said. “What’s your name? My name is Whitley. I have a rat. Do you want to see?”
“Whits, Reverend Fergusson doesn’t want to see your rat,” Lilly said from the playroom door. “Be polite and say hello.”
