Page 48 of Rock and a Hard Place

“I’m afraid your aunt will be tied up in the legal system for quite some time. In addition to growing marijuana withintent to deliver, which is a felony crime, she will likely be charged with child neglect and contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”

“Child neglect? Delinquency of a minor? Come on, I’m fine.” A sense of dread choked her.

“Look at where you’re sitting right now. A responsible adult would not have put you in this situation.” Officer Decker pierced her with a knowing look. Libby slumped against the seat, temporarily out of words to argue.

The officer turned forward, picked up her radio, and clicked the side button. “Officer Decker at number 4319 County Road T. Need Dell County Social Services for system placement of a sixteen-year-old female.”

The radio crackled. “Local placement isn’t possible until after the holiday weekend. You’ll be looking at transfer placement to a group home in Milwaukee County.”

Libby shot forward, grabbing the metal divider that kept her from the horrible radio. “What do you mean ‘group home’?” She gripped the thick metal and shook it to get the officer’s attention. “You can’t send me to a group home. Please, I can’t go there.” Her dread exploded into full-scale panic. Bad things happened at those places.

“Headquarters, I’ll call social services direct from a private line.” The officer glanced at Libby as she spoke, then replaced the radio piece to the console.

“Please listen. My dad needs to know where I am. If I’m not here, he won’t know how to find me.” She rattledthe divider, wanting to crawl through to the other side and knock sense into the stubborn woman.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no other way. You said yourself there isn’t anyone else to step in. No family, no neighbors, no friends. You’ll be fine,” she said in a tone that told Libby she didn’t believe her own words. “Sit tight. I’ll be back after finishing up your transfer arrangements.” She opened the door to the patrol car.

“Wait! Don’t go.” Libby needed to convince the officer to let her stay at the farmhouse. She couldn’t let them send her away.

Officer Decker offered a strained smile but exited the car, shutting the door firmly. Libby pounded on the metal divider like a criminal gone berserk. She’d imagined she’d live with her aunt until graduation or until her dad came back. This was beyond horrible.

Her life was spinning into a total disaster. How could her dad leave her to this?

17

“Pass the gravy, would ya, buddy?” Peter said to his young cousin Ryan.

They’d gathered around the Thanksgiving table with the large extended family. Peter couldn’t stop wondering about Libby, stuck with her lunatic aunt. He doubted a turkey dinner was involved. All he could picture was her alone, thinking he dumped her. He tried to call her using another phone, but Garrett had canceled the cell service to her number. Now Peter had to wait until the next day to try and get Libby’s service reinstated and to replace his phone.

“This one’s empty.” Ryan looked up at him with innocent eyes.

“Here, Peter. There’s plenty in this bowl.” Carly, his Uncle Steve’s stepdaughter, offered another bowl of steaming turkey gravy. She delivered a coy smile and all butbatted her eyes. Peter pretended not to notice. He didn’t want to encourage her.

Determined to bury his heartache over Libby, he stuffed himself with food. Usually, he loved Thanksgiving, but this year, the gathering of twenty people was more than he could handle.

He took the bowl from Carly’s eager hands. “Thanks.” He forced a smile and ladled the rich gravy over his second helping of turkey, stuffing, and cheesy potato casserole, turning the contents on his plate into a thick stew.

“Where does he put all that food?” Grandma Jamieson commented, looking at his plate mounded with food. Peter smiled at Grandma and shoveled in another mouthful.

His mother looked at him warmly. “Ever since Peter turned fourteen, he’s always eating, and he runs every day, so that boosts his appetite even more. It’s near impossible to keep these boys fed.”

Peter responded with a black look. He didn’t feel like making nice with his family. They were a bunch of traitors.

“I can’t imagine your grocery bill,” Becky, Uncle Steve’s new wife, commented. “My Carly eats like a little bird. I swear some days I have to remind her to eat.” Aunt Becky bragged about her daughter’s ultra-skinny body. The girl wore her clothes so tight, they left little to the imagination. Carly took a tiny bite of green bean and feigned embarrassment.

“Now that we’ve inhaled most of this meal, who wants to start with their thanks?” his mom asked. Every year she forced them to participate in this ritual. Peter and his brothers groaned.

His mother eyed them. “Boys, you disappoint me. This year, more than any other, we have so much to be thankful for.”

Peter scraped potatoes from the side of his plate and stuffed his mouth. He looked directly at his mother and shrugged.

“Fine. I’ll start.” She wiped the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin, then set it aside. “I am thankful for the amazing doctors and medical staff at Cedars-Sinai.” She reached out and took her husband’s hand. “Without their dedication and talent, I might have lost you.” She gazed at his dad; tears welled in her eyes.

“And I thought you were going to say you were thankful to get a few days freedom while I was in the hospital,” his father said. His mother shot him a wry expression.

Each person in turn offered up something to be thankful for. Next came Garrett.

“I’m thankful Peter’s got such a weak left hook.” He rubbed his bruised cheekbone for effect.

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