The Truth Mirror

"What's going on with mom?"

"She is head over heels right now. I've asked her if Sydney and I can move in with her for a while because we are being evicted and it would be a good way for me to get away from this drug house, but she told me I had to work it out because she has a chance to share some happy years with her new man."

"I have some ideas. Bring Sydney for breakfast in the morning. Come over to my house and talk with me."

"I've never been to your house."

"It's easy to find...................."

At breakfast, Sydney complained about the happy face I had drawn on her top pancake, because only "little girls" liked such things. I put a beard and hair on the face with whipped cream; she laughed and agreed that since it looked like an old man, it was no longer little girl food. While Sydney enjoyed her pancakes, bacon and scrambled egg, Candy stood with me on the kitchen patio and drank her coffee. She looked tired. She had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Talk to me."

"Not much to talk about. It is sort of hopeless right now. Even if I work double shifts, I still don't have a deposit to put down on a new apartment. We won't get anything back from where we are because we are being evicted for not paying our rent. Bob spent it all on drugs. If I push, I know mom will let us move in for a while but I don't want to mess things up for her; she has a chance not to be alone."

"Go down to the edge of the house past the pool. There is a door. Go in, look around and then go through door in the hall, through the house, back to the kitchen."

Candy was gone for maybe ten minutes. Her expression was puzzled.

"That was the apartment my wife's nurse used when she stayed over. It is small. You and Sydney would have to share kitchen facilities with me, but you are welcome to use it until you can save enough to get out on your own. Keep using your mom's address so Sydney does not have to change schools; I'll have her picked up and brought here after school until you decide what you are going to do. If this idea sounds reasonable to you, I have some rules you would have to agree to. Did you look through the house some?"

She was very quiet, even dazed. I got her another coffee, took Sydney into the family room and handed her a game controller, pointed to the games and she lit up like a Christmas tree. When I returned to Candy, her mind was racing, trying to find some trap, "What are your rules?"

"You have to get a restraining order against Bob and truthfully state the reasons. You cannot tell him where you are staying. You have to get your life back into some routine and feel safe long enough to get your brain working."

"Are you expecting anything from me?"

"We've teased and talked a lot. I've made no secret that I am attracted to you. Maybe later, each of us might want to spend some time together. But for now, let's leave this as one friend helping another. I don't expect anything except your honest effort to get back on your feet. I won't be able to stand up to Bob for a while. I have a minor surgery scheduled on October 26 and I'll have to really restrict my activities for at least a month, maybe two. You and Sydney will have to fend for yourselves and pick up after each other. I have maids that come in once a week, the gardeners take care of the outside and my sons will check on me and bring anything I require. You both can have the run of the house except for my bedroom and my office. I'll provide the food but I don't expect you to run up any bills, invite guests, use any vehicles or use any extra facilities unless you get my approval first."

"How about Sydney when I'm working? How will I get to and from work?"

"I love kids and helped raise four of my own. As long as she will listen to me and do as I say, she can stay with me, while you are at work. She can do her home work, play video games, watch TV, etc. You can take her to your mom's or have your mom come here. I have an older Honda you can use, as long as you have a valid driver's license. Also, the city bus stop is on the corner."

Candy was impossible for me to read at that point. She'd had enough bad relationships, been used and heard enough lies that she did not trust easily. Her mind was having trouble trying to decide.

I continued, "You're not being evicted today. Think about it. Talk with your mom. Just make sure, Bob doesn't know where my house is."

Four days later, Candy dropped by, gave me a copy of the restraining order against Bob and asked when she could move in. I handed her a set of keys to the apartment and the white Honda Accord parked in my garage. She stood waiting for some bad news or surprise.

"If you and Sydney are here at six tonight, I'll have taco salad ready. Early tomorrow, I have to go in for some pre-op blood work. The Honda's gas tank is full and I think it is in great shape."

Candy stood stunned, with her mouth open. She was surprised that I did exactly what I had promised.

"Close your mouth or I will want to kiss you. Now get going, you have a lot to do."

I could not help watching her ass swing from side to side when she headed toward the garage. I'm sick and I know it. Ready for surgery and sizing up something that could fuck me to death.

Being out of commission was the greatest thing that could have happened for the three weeks following October 26. Candy felt no pressure from me and my naturally, naughty teasing mind was in neutral. The week after that, I was in the kitchen having coffee when she came in and reached for something high in the cupboards. The long, long t-shirt she wore to sleep in covered her well, until, she reached over her head. Fleetingly, she caught me admiring the view. She worked the lunch shift but was off that evening. I had put together a nice dinner. After Sydney raced off, I played at writing a long list.

"What are you doing? That looks like a shopping list."

"No, it is a list of items that I want to have moved to the top shelves of the kitchen cupboards."

She did not make the connection and paid for it. "Why would you want to do that?"

"So I can watch you reach for more items in the morning when you have on your night shirt."

Her come-back was a little slow, "You are recovering faster than you thought, aren't you?"

"No, just playing and teasing."

She decided she should clean off the table, rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher since I had cooked. She wiggled and bent more than she had to. Her tight jeans showed every sexy curve, even her pronounced camel toe. By the time she finished, she had looked back several times to make sure I was watching. When she finally sat back down, I said, "Thank you."

She knew I did not mean for cleaning up. Now she was ahead of me, "I hope my teasing helps, speeds your recovery."

"I'm sure it will because it speeded up my circulation and that promotes healing."

I loved her naughty smile. The rest of our conversation was about her work, her dreams and about Sydney. Our exchange was relaxed and homey, like a contented married couple. I told her I was going to get back on my schedule of writing in the evenings in my office starting tonight; she reminded me she had the breakfast shift in the morning and I responded, "Don't worry, I'll get Sydney fed and off to school." Candy left to spend some time with her daughter and check her home work. She touched my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek as she left.

I was getting too comfortable with Candy's and Sydney's company. Not really having any expectations but not facing reality either. One Thursday evening Candy asked if I would watch Sydney on Friday night because she had a date. Of course, I said, "Yes," but the concept bothered me. I had to admit, at least to myself, I was jealous.

Candy did not come home that night. In the morning, she called directly from her work to ask about Sydney. I just handed the telephone to Sydney, since she and I were eating cake for breakfast while watching cartoons. I am refusing to grow up. When Sydney hung up the telephone she announced, "Mom was with Bob last night. She says, he is all better now and is really sorry he hit me." I've heard of battling couples having post-separation, even post-divorce sex. It's supposed to be easy, experienced and unpressured. How could I be angry? Candy and Tom were not even legally separated or divorced. I was feeling my age by the time she drove my old Honda home after her shift. Foolishly, I still cared. As they say, "There is no fool like an old fool." However, I'm a skeptic, I asked two of my young "connected" pool shooting friends to find out if Bob was clean and how he was making ends meet.

Three days later, Bob showed up on my doorstep to pick up Candy's and Sydney's clothing. He definitely was not straight and became agitated that Sydney was not due home from school for another hour and a half. He waited and seemed to be tweaking. Sydney was not happy about going with him. I gave her a big hug, told her I would miss her and that if she needed anything to give me a call.

I needed to find a new morning restaurant and a new bar. It was time I changed the circle of women I knew. Later that week, I was informed by my pool buddies that Bob was doing well financially, but his money was rumored to be coming from meth sales and he was his best customer.

Over the next six months, I healed nicely, traveled some, improved my pool game, made my editors happy and was visiting places where I met women closer to my own age. One visited me often, always went home satisfied but liked to point out my numerous faults, my decorating shortcomings and negatives about how I lived. It wasn't going to work out but it was fun to have someone to go with to the zoo, the museum, movies and shopping. Even at those places her criticisms were tiresome.

One Wednesday evening early, I was about to drive my self-appointed judge and jury home when the telephone rang. It was Sydney's school; they still had me listed as an emergency contact. No one had picked her up, the school could not get in touch with Candy or Candy's mother and they needed to lock the doors and go home. "Judge Betty" wanted to know everything about why I was picking up a ten year old girl before taking her home. I just let her talk and turned off my ears.

Same bright, lovable, beautiful Sydney. As usual she was starving. When we dropped Betty off, Sydney's first words were, "She doesn't like you very much does she?"

"I guess not. What do you want to eat? Catch me up on everything and tell me why no one picked you up today."

Rapid fire I learned, Grandmother was traveling with her new beau. Candy was not working anymore, Bob had money but was often really out of control and Sydney had no idea why she was stranded at school.

"Do you have a key to get into your house?"

"I know where one is."

"Let's go by, check if there are any notes and that everything is alright. You can get some clean clothes for tomorrow, just in case you have to stay over at my place tonight."

"I'm really hungry."

"You're right. We'll eat first and then go over to your house."

I made calls, while I ate Chicken McNuggets with Sweet & Sour Sauce, and Sydney ate everything else the local McDonalds could cook in thirty minutes. I discovered, Bob and Candy were still in the process of being booked into the county jail for possession with intent to distribute. Bail had not been set. Bob's would be high, it was his fifth arrest.

Sydney got quiet as we got close to her house. I parked in the dark driveway. "What's wrong, little one?"

"The house is not pretty and clean like yours."

"That's all right, that is just the way I like my house. Not everyone likes things kept the way I do."

"Remember how you and mom used to tease?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"You would not always know I could hear, but you would tease her about being pretty and sexy. Like when you would talk about her reaching high and her bottom showing."

"Yes, I remember, and you are right, I didn't know you could hear me."

"Mom is not pretty like that now. She is skinny like Bob and they do not laugh like you and she did."

Kids should not have to know such things or have to explain them to people like me. The pain in her was obvious. She got us into the back door. The house was filthy and smelled.

"Get enough of your things for a few days. I'll find out about your mom."

"Is she in jail?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"The stuff they sell in little bags, day and night. My friends say it is illegal. Bob called it crank."

"Yes, it is illegal. It makes people sick, crazy and skinny. And, yes, your mom is being booked into jail and so is Bob. It is too early for us to go see her or find out about how much money has to be paid in bail for her to be released until her trial."

Sydney was crying but still asked more questions, "Will she have to go to prison?"

"I don't know what she has done or what the courts will demand of her. Bob probably will have to do some time."

"That's good, he is bad for mom to be with. He gets angry and hits."

"Has he hit you since you moved back in with him?"

"No, but he slaps mom and she has me hide when he is angry and she is not sick."

"What do you mean, "not sick"?"

"Lots of times she stays in bed for days and then stays up for days."

I turned my head so Sydney could not see my eyes. I lost a son to meth. Sydney saw a tear but she did not talk anymore about her mom.

I helped her do her homework that evening. It was already late. While she bathed, I put all the clothing she brought into the washer. It wasn't clean. I gave her one of my t-shirts to sleep in and tucked her in before returning to the telephone and using some of my contacts to gather information. I was able to get to a court appointed attorney, leave word that Sydney was with me and for her mother to be told that and given my telephone number. The next morning, I gave Sydney a note saying which bus she should take home, why and stating that she lived here just a few months ago. Then I drove Sydney to school. When I got home, the phone was ringing from a police woman. She was very abrupt, spouting about child services, etc. I asked her to get all the information she could and then come talk to me. She agreed. She arrived about three.

Sergeant Mary Dickerson is about five foot five and appeared big decked out in her protective vest and all the other regalia. My house, my tall dignified looks and my pleasant greeting did nothing to soften her demeanor, "I'm Sergeant Dickerson and I'm here to talk about Candice Thorn's child. I believe you have her staying with you."

"You are correct Sergeant Dickerson; Sydney has been staying with me, since her school called me yesterday. Sydney is at school now."

"Why did the school call you about Sydney Thorn?"

"Sydney Clemens. Bob Thorn and Candice have been married about two years and Sydney's father was killed in Iraq. The school called me because Sydney and her mother lived with me for a while about six months ago and I am still on their call list. No one checked on her welfare when Candice was arrested so the school called me when they needed to lock up for the evening and no one had picked Sydney up."

Again Sergeant Dickerson puffed up and spouted about child services, protocol, etc. It was time I kicked back. "I have tried to treat you with the staunch cold professionalism that you seem to like to present. However, I am a family friend and I am fond of Sydney and concerned about her care, safety and mental health. Her grandmother is on vacation and I am trying to get in touch with her. We are talking about a ten year old girl whose mother has been arrested because she married an ass and got sucked into meth. If you cannot talk about a child in civilized caring adult terms, please leave and send me another person to discuss the issues with. You and your force did not even know she existed until I made calls last night. If there is a hole that big in your procedures, you have a problem. If you did not follow procedures, you have a problem. Either way your system could really hurt a sensitive ten year old girl who's separated from her mother for the first time. Now, Mary, my first name is Jack, can you and I talk about what is best for Sydney?"

Things now got off on a better plain. I said I might pay Candy's bail and get her into rehab if Candy supported that. Otherwise, I wanted to get Sydney to her grandmother. I offered to fill out any police forms or for Sydney and me to meet with Social Services. I even offered to get the court to appoint me as a temporary guardian with Candice's approval. "I want to do everything legally correct, as you direct me Sergeant Dickerson, I just want to know that all the parties have Sydney's best interest at heart and don't do things like forget about her at school. I have taken care of her before and will willingly do so again until the dust settles."

Turned out, Mary Dickerson is a coffee drinker and a single mother. We found some common ground and where enjoying our second cup when Sydney charged through the door only to freeze when she saw Mary's uniform. Sydney proceeded forward but stood behind me for protection.

"Sydney, this is Sergeant Mary Dickerson, she is going to help us. Sergeant when can we see Candice and when can we find out what her bail is?"

Mary wanted to impress Sydney so she made calls on her radio. No bail had been set, but we could see Candice for just a few minutes through a glass in the visiting area at eight p.m. We got that privilege only because of Sergeant Dickerson's call and her stating that it was best for Sydney. Sydney thanked her three times and went to do her home work, so she would be ready to leave for the jail.

I was surprised to see Sergeant Dickerson when Sydney and I entered our side of the visiting area. Sydney burst into tears when she saw her mother and I was in shock. Candy was gaunt, very tired, sick, her eyes were sunken and her pretty face had dark lines and a couple of sores. She had scratched and picked at her arms and neck. She tried to focus on Sydney. Her few tears brought even more from Sydney. I noticed Mary had some tears too. Sydney went with her, so I could talk to Candy. "Where is your mother?"

"Mexico somewhere. Cancun. Supposed to be back at the end of the month."

"Sydney is with me for the time being. When do you go before the judge?"

"I think tomorrow. They said I was too sick today. Jack....?"

"Yes, Pretty One."

"I'm sorry. I screwed up and am really hooked. I'm not your Pretty One anymore. Please take care of Sydney."

"You will get straight and be my Pretty One again. You may have to sign for me to take care of Sydney but I will take care of her, unless your mother steps in."

She was ashamed but still did not want me to go. I was a link to better times.

"Candy, you go rest and get strong for your hearing tomorrow. I'll be there. Think about what you want for yourself. Talk to your lawyer about that and Sydney's care. If the judge asks you what you want for your future, be ready to give a very complete answer. I'll help, if you truly want to be helped."

Then next day at ten, Candy was remorseful, respectful and prepared when she came before Judge Joan J. Johnson. I was wondering what the about fifty year old judge would look like under her black robe, dreaming she was nude, when the bailiff called Candy. Luckily, I was able to clear my thoughts. The judge was compassionate with Candy. She had read my letter to the court; Candy had endorsed it; she had read my resume, how I lost a son to meth and wanted to help Candy and her daughter. She called me forward.

"Mr. Simms, do you understand how hard it is for people to kick meth addiction and what you are signing up for?"

"I do Your Honor."

"Mrs. Thorn was a friend of yours before she got on meth. Now she might be aggressive, neglect her daughter, steal from you and resist any rules you place on her. You're ready for all that?"