Read Online Nine Lives by Erin Lee - Free Book Online Page A

day of the appointment, Faith told Heather that unless she allowed her to go visit Hunter at his mother’s house, she had zero intention of going to therapy at all. Laina hasn’t been different. With her, it was either Heather gave her $40 and a ride to the movies to meet undisclosed “they-aren’t-your-business” friends or there would be no more music lessons. I think we all can guess how that turned out. It’s too bad, really, because she was making great friends with a girl, Harley, who I know from another case. A girl who has real issues. But that’s another story. The only thing getting Laina to therapy now is a condition of probation for constantly sneaking out to meet her much older boyfriend. That guy reeks of trouble. I’m hoping it will help her, but I doubt it. I wish that therapist a lot of luck. She’ll need it.
    I’ve tried to get them all around the same table. I’ve tried to do as DCYF workers are asking—“make the mother realize she needs to take her daughters’ side and defend them against their father”—and come up short every time. I can’t “make” someone believe something that I don’t believe myself. And I certainly can’t “talk sense into Mrs. Nelson, for God’s sake.” Frankly, I think Heather Nelson has more sense in her than all of the case managers combined. Had they taken the time to listen to her instead of making immediate judgment of her based on statistics, they might see what I’m seeing now. A little time in the Nelson house with Laina and Faith goes a long way in helping someone see the family dynamic.
    At night, I try to put the case out of my mind. Most nights, it doesn’t work. Lately, I average three to four hours of sleep a night and that’s not helping my patience levels with the girls. I need to find a way to stay calm. I wish I could get into their heads and understand their thinking. There has to be some level of serious hurt or wound that would cause them to behave this way. If I could get at that, then we’d finally be getting somewhere.
    I live in a tiny apartment with my cat, Oliver. I’m thankful for the silence when I get home at night. My biggest problem at home is keeping Oliver entertained. That, and how to pay my student loans. My current solution to this problem is to stack them—unopened—on the resin countertop. I’m thinking I won’t be able to do that for much longer. For now, it’s easier to be in denial than to face the credit dive, garnishments, and lawsuits certain to head my way. No one warned me that $77,000 in student loans would be virtually impossible to pay off in this line of work. There’s no rewinding. If I did have a remote control for my life, I’m not sure I’d hit the rewind button anyway. I try not to live with regrets.
    I wonder if Laina and Faith regret what they’ve done. They aren’t sociopaths—at least, I hope not. I can’t say that diagnosis hasn’t been thrown around at clinical case meetings with my supervisors. I would imagine that when they are alone with their thoughts at night, there’s guilt there. They love their siblings. Anyone can see that. I sincerely enjoy watching Faith play quietly with Mary in the living room while Heather and I meet. I even saw Laina switch the rated R movie she was watching to a cartoon when Jeremiah walked in the room last week. What do they think about how their actions have impacted Jeremiah and Mary? Mary will barely remember life with a father. Jeremiah will continue to bounce off the walls, wondering if he’ll ever have his partner in crime back to shoot hoops in the driveway and build things with. He wasn’t able to do the cardboard boat race this year. He said it wasn’t the same without his dad. It’s disgusting.
    People ask me all the time how I do the work I do. Normally, their disgust—and mine—comes from working with abusive parents. I spend my days driving from house to house, checking on parents who I know are guilty or who are covering up