CHAPTER 36 – [Monday, April 15, 2002]
The sounds at 11:37pm could’ve awoken the dead.
Shrieks and screams, crashes and bangs, slams and stomps. Each were clearly audible in the hallway, in the stairwell, even in the elevator shaft. Their incredible volume and ferocity unrelenting into the night. Melissa’s neighbors’ knocks on the door had been met by cold obliviousness and the police that had been summoned so far had apparently had more important calls to take that night.
Inside, the scene was intense. Melissa alternated from sitting on the couch to standing to trying to slow her boyfriend from his furious and relentless march through the apartment as he searched for court papers.
“WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN IT WAS GONNA COME OUT ANYWAYS?” He bellowed as he walked out to stand in the open bedroom doorway, glaring at Melissa in the living room.
“Ted. Really. Someone was gonna say something at some point and questions were gonna be asked.” “BY WHOM MELISSA?! WHO?! TELL ME! WHO?! WHERE WAS THIS INFORMATION TO COME FROM!!” She remained silent.
“THAT’S MY FUCKING DAUGHTER MELISSA! AND IT’S HER PRIVATE LIFE! IT’S GONNA BE DRUG THROUGH THE COUTS ON PARADE LIKE SHE’S A ZOO ANIMAL IN A CAGE! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Melissa stood up and walked toward Ted. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me you ungrateful prick. Love….LOVE is what’s wrong with me. I did it for you Ted. I did it for us. And if you can’t understand that, you’re dense.”
Ted shook his head in shock, “For someone so damned driven to work with the poor, you sure lack common empathy.” The words seethed off his mouth and he turned away, back to his task of searching.
Melissa began yelling herself, following Ted into the bedroom, “WELL IF YOU ASK ME TED, GETTING YOUR ‘DAUGHTER’,” at that she put up air quotes, bent her knees, and gave a mocking wiggle of her body (all of which Ted didn’t see), “…OUT OF THAT ABUSIVE SITUATION WOULD BE THE MOST EMPATHETIC THING ANYONE COULD DO!! SO FUCK YOU AND YOUR HIGH HORSE!” She turned and walked back into the living room, slamming the bedroom door.
The words stung Ted, despite his anger at the situation. On Monday morning, his lawyer had informed him of he and Melissa’s private conversation almost two weeks prior and of his formal discovery of Ted’s daughter’s medical records. They had been entered as evidence in the court proceeding.
“I have to tell you Ted,” Mr. Harris had said, “I’ve reviewed some of the notes from Jordan’s medical records that we subpoenaed for the case and from what I’ve read, it’s pretty shocking. Your wife sounds like a real crackpot if you ask me. Didn’t you know she is forcing your thirteen year old to wear diapers like a toddler? And she’s doing all the changings? That’s way outside the realm of what anyone would consider ‘normal’. I honestly don’t know why the doctors didn’t call her in earlier. Between Melissa’s sworn statement and these records, I didn’t have much of a choice but to do it myself. Child Protective Services has already opened a file.” He had spoken with a clear slant toward earning his client custody of his children and intended to bleed the turnip dry.
A bolt of what felt like electrical shock had jolted through Ted’s body at the lawyer’s words in his cozy downtown office. He had been far too numb to feel rage. Instead, he first felt surprise and shame that he had been politically outmaneuvered and surprised for the second time in less than two months. But beyond that, the very suggestion that what Sally had been doing with Jordan could’ve possibly been (in actuality) abuse, was beyond absurd in Ted’s mind. The lawyer’s intent seemed insane, irresponsible, and a massive stretch. But he immediately knew the potential implications of the accusation – and was worried about how an outsider might interpret the ‘evidence’.
Rapidly though, his shock did turn to Anger and he had screamed at Melissa (who was at the appointment with him) about the agreement they had made to leave Jordan’s medical condition out of the divorce proceeding. He yelled and demanded that Mr. Harris strike the records as evidence from the case. But the fact of the matter was that because CPS had now been included, it was out of all of their control. Even if Ted wanted to change his original course about extra child-support and the school bill, the ball was out of his hand. It seemed as though the best possible outcome for his kids and soon-to-be ex-wife was in doubt.
He left the bedroom door remain closed without offering the Auburn-haired adulteress the dignity of a response to her insults.
How could I have possibly done this? I’ve destroyed everything. All I’ve ever wanted to do is make the world a better place…help people who are less fortunate, get them on their feet, show compassion where no one else thinks it’s deserved. But all I’ve done with my own family – my own girls – is consistently screw up. I’ve traded my birthright for a pot of stew. And it’s pretty crappy stew.
Ted began to weep as he pulled his two suitcases from the closet by the master bathroom; the same two he had used to move into Melissa’s Belltown apartment.
I’ve got to start making the right decisions at some point. He steeled his resolve as he cried, And this is as good of time as any. Moving here is a wrong decision I’ve needed to correct since I made it.
It didn’t take him long to pack his suits, shoes, clothes, and knick-knacks. Ted made the decision that whatever was left would be left and it was worth the expense to get out as soon as possible. It had been only about 20 minutes since Melissa had slammed the door and when he opened it wearing his coat, briefcase slung over his shoulder, holding one suitcase, and tugging another behind him, Melissa’s eyes widened.
“Oh put your shit down Ted, you and I both know you’re not going anywhere.” She said standing up from the couch.
“Melissa, it’s over. We’re done. I’m moving out tonight.” He said walking through the door and heading to his left down the hall toward the door.
“Oh knock it off Ted. Quit the show. You and I both know you can’t hack it without a woman to give you orders.” She stepped out to glare down the hall at his back.
He didn’t respond.
“Ted!”
He continued to walk, reaching for the door handle.
“TED!”
He opened the door.
“Ted get back here! You can’t just walk out like this! You can’t just leave me! YOU NEED TO GIVE ME SOME KIND OF EXPLANATION HERE!” She put her hands on her hips and screamed as if the past two hours of conversation about Ted’s daughter hadn’t just taken place.
“Haven’t you taken enough from me Melissa?” he calmly asked as he stepped into the outer corridor. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? TED! What did you EVER give to me?” She flailed and screamed a stream of obscenities, her makeup running and hair a mess.
He didn’t respond but continued to walk down the hall toward the elevator. As she screamed, more than one neighbor poked their heads out their doors with irritation and confusion on their faces.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” She pleaded as he stepped backward into the elevator.
Just before the doors closed he reached his foot out to stop them.
Ted paused for a second and without missing a beat, he caught her green eyes and uttered, “You’re fired.”
The doors closed and Ted made his way into the night.
[Tuesday, April 16, 2002]
Sitting in the courtroom at the Seattle King County Superior Courthouse in downtown Seattle late in the afternoon, Sally felt exposed. She sat in a black swivel chair on the left side next to her lawyer and Ted was on the right with Mr. Harris, Melissa was nowhere to be found. All four looked up to the Judge who sat in front of a wood clad wall and just under a medallion of the seal of the state of Washington.
As the Judge spoke about the process the divorce case would take, he expressed his grave concerns about the allegations Ted and his lawyer had raised regarding Sally’s parenting. At this, Ted had looked down in shame and in sadness – although he knew he hadn’t directly been the one to make the call, he knew he had created the whole mess from top to bottom and he felt rightly guilty. Sally, although not surprised that moment on Tuesday morning, had been nearly breathless the previous afternoon when she had heard the news from her lawyer.
“Mrs. Reynolds I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about your daughter’s medical condition before.” He had finally said after they had gone around and around in debate about the exact nature of Sally’s nightly care of her daughter and how Ted’s lawyer could potentially use the information to push for custody of the girls.
“Like I said Roger,” Sally replied exasperated, “it would’ve never occurred to me in a thousand years that the ways in which I’ve cared for my daughter’s medical condition could have POSSIBLY been construed as wrong or abusive.” Of course although her sentiment was true, in actuality it wasn’t. Just a few weeks earlier, Jordan’s urologist had caused Sally to second guess her nightly bedtime routine with Jordan. This, enough so that she had talked with her dear friend Jo Miller about it, who in turn had helped her make space for the reasonableness (and even need) of the practice. “How is it that my thirteen-year-old daughter’s medical records can just be dragged into public view willy-nilly like that anyways? Aren’t there laws that protect her?” Sally continued incredulously.
“Mrs. Reynolds, the records of a divorce proceeding aren’t public record per se and your daughters medical history won’t become public at all in any case. But they can be used as the basis for a judgment if they’re deemed relevant. In terms of court, if any of the information in the files needs to be openly discussed, we can request all irrelevant parties to vacate the courtroom (which we’ll do) in order to protect Jordan. But it’s perfectly normal in hotly contested divorce cases for all kinds of information about kids and childcare and parent style to be entered in as evidence. I’m really sorry Sally but this is fairly typical in dissolutions that are not amiable.”
Sally had looked out the window and shook her head in shock.
“This is part of why we try to get couples to solve their divorces in arbitration – without lawyers and everything. It gets really nasty really quick.”
Saying ‘I told you so’ isn’t very helpful, Roger. She had thought to herself but held her tongue.
“So what’s gonna happen then? How’s this gonna play out? Does he really have a chance of taking the girls from me?”
Roger Johnson, Attorney at law, sitting in his dated leather office chair in the heart of a strip mall near Lynwood in north Seattle had leaned back and thought for a moment before responding. “Well Sally, I have to be honest with you. This isn’t gonna be fun. My understanding is that CPS has already been called.”
“CPS!!” She had exclaimed before bursting into tears in her hands.
Roger Johnson wasn’t a particularly sensitive man but he also wasn’t heartless. He felt for his client and her situation even though he honestly questioned her judgment in the first place. After waiting several moments he had continued, “Listen Sally, I don’t think there is any basis for any criminal action against you. There just isn’t cause there. I mean, doctors are mandatory reporters and how many has Jordan seen since she started….having…this problem? Three or four? And none of them were alarmed enough to make a report against you. It wasn’t until Ted’s girlfriend initiated it last week that anything even happened on that end. And clearly she has dubious ulterior motives on the table. Perhaps what you’ve been doing to your thirteen-year-old might be considered odd (or even indicative of poor judgment in the judge’s eyes) – and perhaps…perhaps…enough for him or her to justify awarding custody of your kids to Ted. But that would be the extreme in my estimation. You’re not going to be charged with a crime here Sally.”
Sally had cried out in grief, “But how could they possibly give my girls to that bastard?! He only cares about himself! All his conniving decisions are for himself! He manipulates everything to serves his whim! He’s no father! He’s no Daddy! How can they possibly say he can take better care of them than me!?” She had cried out, but no one other than Roger Johnson was listening.
Indeed, as Sally and Ted sat in the courtroom that Tuesday morning in April, both had cringed when the words “Child Protective Services” rolled off the judge’s tongue and she glared down at the diminutive black-haired woman. Sally simply looked back in shock and confidence before turning to her estranged husband. He immediately averted his gaze full of self-disgust.
When the hearing ended, Sally got up to leave and Ted remained seated at his table. As she passed by, he glanced up almost by accident, expect her to have already passed. She noticed the dark red circles around his eyes and the wetness on his cheeks. Apparently as he had been looking away for the last portions of the hearing, he had been crying.
This made her instantly furious and she couldn’t contain it. With the judge making her way out the door but still in courtroom, Sally set in on Ted.
“What would YOU ever have to cry about Ted?! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU! You have no right to cry on this day!” She was crying now along with him. “You know it’s a lie. You know. Why would you do this! Why?”
All he could blubber out were awkward gasps, “…Melissa…sorry…not my fault…not what I…wanted…sorry…Melissa…over”
“You would blame someone else wouldn’t you? You bastard. You would pass the blame. You would dump the responsibility. You would let someone else do your dirty work. How the FUCK are you gonna even raise our daughters after you manipulate them out of my home? Our Home?” Sally looked deranged as she cross-examined Ted off the record in the aisle. The Judged stood in the doorway to her chamber, watching in shock. Normally composed, Mrs. Reynolds had lost it.
He continued to try to respond in halting language, “…Sal–…I…Sorry…not my…Melissa…”, as Roger Johnson pushed Sally from behind forcing her toward the rear door.
“Sally it’s time to go now, you need to calm down. This isn’t helping.” He said.
The woman continued to scream and offer threats as she worked her way toward the back of the room and out the door.
Ted looked haggard and spent.
Both Reynolds’ had been thrown into a river over which neither had control.
Back in Ballard that evening, Jordan had been in charge of childcare for a couple hours before her mom made it home. Jo Miller, unable to step in herself because of an important date set ahead of time with her husband, had picked up Jen and Mindi and dropped them off under their older sister’s care. It had been the first time in pretty much Jordan’s whole life that she was ‘queened’ as baby sitter and she hadn’t been terribly fond of the title. Jo and Sally had both told the teenager that the reason for the emergency role was simply “an important meeting” and nothing more. Jordan didn’t know if it was something to do with her Dad, or the man on the moon, although she suspected the former.
Surprisingly, Jen and Mindi had behaved well, played amicably, and actually had already eaten before they arrived. So Jordan’s job was relatively peaceful. However, she was relieved to see her mom march through the door at almost 7 o’clock at night and more than ready to turn the responsibilities over to her.
It hadn’t happened as she had hoped however.
“Hi Mom!” Jordan, followed by her two sisters, cheerily greeted their mother as she opened the back door into the kitchen. She didn’t respond immediately.
Jordan quickly noticed the makeup on her face that had run and the redness around her eyes.
“What’s wrong momma?” Mindi immediately asked running to Sally.
“Yeaw mommaw? Wuats wong?” Jen chimed in following suit.
They hugged their mother’s legs and she patted their backs.
“Oh mommy’s just tired girls. Mommy’s just tired.”
“Mommaw tiwerd” Jen parroted back.
Jordan walked over to the party of three in the kitchen and caught her mother’s eyes. They looked weathered and worn – not much left to give.
“Jordie dear I need you to help me tonight.” The girl could feel her heart sink a touch but she tried her best to understand.
“Ok?” Jordan responded.
“Get Jen ready for bed please. I need a few minutes alone.” She gave each of the three a quick hug. Said goodnight. And without a word of thanks for Jordan’s evening babysitting gig, shut her bedroom door, not to reappear until the next morning.
Jordan hadn’t felt as alone as she had that night since the previous fall when her parents were fighting and at each other’s throats. The previous night hadn’t been a barrel of monkeys either – her mom had been a little more short and snippy than usual and far less tender with her touch. Their usual regimen took all of about one and a half minutes instead of its usual 5 or 10 minute spread. But on this Tuesday night, Jordan was genuinely mystified, hurt, and frightened. But she never-the-less did her best to put her siblings to bed — and, as she had done so many times in Washington D.C., got herself ready in the bathroom as well.
It had to have been something to do with Dad, she thought as she lie in bed that night, why else would mom possibly be so upset? Little did Jordan know that many things were about to change.