Elliott drives me home and walks me to the door. We pause on the porch and I’m expecting this big awkward moment where he tries to kiss me again, but all he does is give me a hug.
He’s not that tall—maybe five foot ten—but since I’m kind of short we still fit together perfectly, my head right beneath his chin. My face ends up pressed against his T-shirt, which smells like a mix of sweat and sand and desert air. “Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For being so nice to me. At least I didn’t cry on you tonight.”
“I don’t know where you got the idea that crying is this horrible thing, but you need to get over that. Stop apologizing for your body’s involuntary responses to your feelings. It’s almost like me apologizing for how sweaty I am right now.”
I pull back so I can look him in the eye. “I never thought of it that way. Growing up, I never saw either of my parents cry. Even after my dad left, if Mom did any crying it was in her bedroom late at night after I was asleep. I grew up kind of programmed to hide my tears.”
“Well, don’t be like that, okay? At least not around me.”
“Okay.” We stand, looking at each other for a few seconds. I struggle to fill the silence. “Also, thanks for showing me the stars and making me feel like a Ninja Warrior Girl.”
He laughs. “I love watching newbies try the obstacles. Almost everyone does better than they expect on at least one of them, and it’s like watching a flower bloom, you know? Seeing people awaken to their true possibilities.”
“I needed that today.”
“Just remember. It’s never as bad as you think it is,” Elliott says.
“Thanks.” I hope he’s right.
He leaps off the porch and lopes across our front yard. I check my phone and when I see that it’s not quite midnight, I sit on the steps for a few minutes and gather my thoughts. It’s a nice night and I’m not ready to go inside.
My dad ducks out onto the porch. “I heard your friend’s truck leave,” he says, slight emphasis on the word “friend.” “Did you have a good night?”
“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”
Dad sits next to me, his feet crossed at the ankles. We both stare out into the yard for a few seconds. “If you like him, no one is going to judge you for that.”
Ha. I’m quite sure a whole lot of people would judge me for that if they knew who I was. But all I say is “He’s cool, but what’s the point? In two months I’ll be back in St. Louis and he’ll still be here.”
“You know you don’t have to leave, right?” Dad says. “You’ll be eighteen next month. You can do whatever you want.”
“Dad.” I turn to him, somewhat shocked. “I know you’re not telling me to change my plans because of some guy.”
“Of course not. But honey, life already changed your plans. You didn’t plan for your boyfriend to die. You didn’t plan to come here. You didn’t plan to make friends. I’m just saying, it’s okay to change your mind about what you want. Not because of Elliott, but for all I know you were just staying in St. Louis to go to college because you wanted to be close to Dallas.” Dad pauses. “Plans are great, but they should never make you feel trapped. And if we’re being honest, Rachael and I love having you around, and I’m already getting sad at the thought of you leaving. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say.
He clears his throat. “Listen, Genevieve. I talked to your mom tonight. The Kades paid her a visit earlier today.”
“Oh?” The single word almost gets caught in my throat.
“Glen and Nora are leaning toward going ahead with the wrongful death suit against Brad Freeman. They’ve been getting a lot of pressure, not just from Dallas’s fans, but also from drunk driving nonprofit groups who want to use this tragedy to lobby for a one-and-done law. They haven’t made any definite decisions yet, but they feel like they’ll appease the public if they at least take Freeman to court.”
My blood accelerates in my veins. A roar builds in my ears. I force myself to focus. “Okay,” I say. “Is there a time frame? I assume I’d have to testify.” Maybe this is a good thing. I wanted to tell the truth anyway. A wrongful death suit would mean I have to.
“That’s one of the reasons they haven’t made a definite decision about pursuing legal action yet. Glen doesn’t want to put you through more than you’ve already dealt with.”
“That’s nice of him, but I don’t want to be the deciding factor in this.” I gnaw on my lower lip.
“I figured you’d say that. His attorney said it’d be best if you testified in court, but there’s also the option of giving a videotaped deposition. You’d still be under oath, but it’d just be you and the attorneys and judge present.”
I nod. “Well, whatever they need to do, I understand.” I look down at the ground. “I feel kind of bad, though, for Brad Freeman.”
“Why is that?” Dad asks.
“Knowing that you hurt someone is kind of the worst punishment of all. It seems excessive to have to pay a lot of money on top of it.”
“Ha.” He ruffles my hair. “I wish your mom had felt like that a couple of years ago.”
I turn to face my dad. “It must have been really hard to finally be honest with her.” I’ve only had to confess a handful of minor misdeeds to my mom, but every time it was scary.
“It was. But it was worse with you. Your mom is a smart lady and she knew I was lying. But you didn’t see it because you were young and you thought I was better than I am. You gave me the benefit of the doubt and I betrayed that trust. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Dad shakes his head. “Maybe if you’d had some warning, the whole divorce would have been easier for you to deal with.”
I doubt it, but it’s nice to hear that Dad regrets lying to me. “How did you finally work up the nerve to tell us?”
“Well, part of it was Rachael. I knew I was going to lose her if I didn’t eventually break things off with your mom. But I guess the other part was faith that the people who really mattered—you, my family, my close friends—would at least try to understand why I did what I did.” Dad exhales deeply. “Not that you didn’t have every right to be mad at me, because you will always have that right. I guess I was just counting on the fact that you loved me enough to give me a second chance.”
“I forgive you,” I say. “I don’t remember if I ever told you that.”
Dad looks away for a moment. When he turns back, his eyes are misty. “Thank you. Any particular reason why you wanted to know?”
“I guess I was just wondering what it was that pushed you to do the right thing.”
Dad nods. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
It’s the perfect opening, but I can feel the truth stuck way down inside me. It’s not ready to come out yet. I shake my head. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too.” My dad rises to his feet and then reaches down to help me up. I go in for my second porch hug of the night.
I take a shower and crawl into bed, but I can’t sleep. I keep going back to the conversation with my dad, wondering if the Kades are going to file a lawsuit. Grabbing my laptop, I Google “Brad Freeman lawsuit.” The first thing that pops up is an article about the charges being dropped.
I notice right away that this post is using a different picture of Brad Freeman, what looks like an official photo from a driver’s license or similar. Freeman is clean shaven, his chin raised, just a bit of a smile on his face. It doesn’t even look like the same person as the photo I’ve seen on all the other blogs.
REALE NEWS NOW
A Closer Look at the Freeman Vehicular Manslaughter Case
CHRIS REALE, 5 days ago
Unpopular opinion time. Social media erupted in a rage when the Wentzville district attorney dropped the vehicular manslaughter and DWI charges against Brad Freeman, the man accused of killing Fusion Records performer Dallas Kade. From the point of the announcement onward, there has been a steady stream of demonstrations and angry online postings accusing local officials of protecting Freeman because he used to be a paramedic and his dad was the sheriff. I’m not denying that the thin blue line has been known to protect its family members, but let’s look at the facts:
• Freeman worked for St. Charles County, not Wentzville. It was Wentzville officers who arrested Freeman and it was a Wentzville officer who was first on the scene and reported that he smelled alcohol on Freeman. That doesn’t sound like a cover-up to me.
• The witnesses have all been discredited. Two of them reported seeing Freeman’s truck on a road where he could not possibly have been driving at the time they claim they saw it and the supposed witness to the actual accident admitted to lying after parts of her testimony were questioned.
• The forensic evidence at the scene was deemed inconclusive.
• Genevieve Grace suffered major head trauma and has reported that she can’t remember the events leading up to the accident.
• Freeman has stated that it was Grace who was driving in the wrong lane, not him.
• According to blood tests done at the hospital, Freeman had a BAC of .083, which is over the legal limit of .08, but there are many DWI cases on the books where BAC results done at a hospital were thrown out. The methodology isn’t as accurate, and when you add in that the blood was drawn through an IV used to give other medicines and wiped with an alcohol swab, it’s at least plausible this result was flawed.
• The bartender at Eight Ball Bar & Grill where Freeman worked said he drank two beers over the span of an hour and his credit card confirmed these charges.
• BAC tables show that a man of Freeman’s weight (180 lbs) would probably need to consume at least 4 or 5 drinks in that time to reach a BAC of .083.
I am in no way disputing that Freeman exercised poor judgment when he got behind the wheel of a car after drinking, but two drinks in an hour isn’t generally enough to put someone beyond the legal limit, and to prove manslaughter charges the prosecution needs to prove not just that Freeman exercised poor judgment, but that his driving caused the accident.
Without any concrete evidence or eyewitnesses, all the DA has to go on is Freeman’s own testimony that it was Grace, not he, who caused the accident. Is it possible that he’s lying to avoid a prison sentence? Certainly. But is it also at least conceivable that he’s telling the truth and that Grace might have been responsible for the accident? This reporter believes that it is.
Therefore, the decision made not to bring Freeman to trial seems less like a gross miscarriage of justice as other sites have been reporting and more like a prudent decision to avoid further clogging up an already overwhelmed court system.
I understand how upset and angry people are over the tragic death of Dallas Kade, but your feelings are not enough to put someone in jail. I have heard rumors that the Kade family intends to file a wrongful death lawsuit against Brad Freeman. I would assume that any lawyer they retain would urge them not to pursue a civil suit unless additional evidence comes to light.
Recent Comments:
pxs1228: Why should we believe the bartender where Freeman works? Friends cover for each other all the time. Not to mention Freeman could’ve paid cash for some of his drinks.
charlotteincharlotte: I think you mean where he USED to work.
Jude_Archer: Wow, Chris. You live in St. Louis, right? Is Brad Freeman one of your former frat bros or something? Quite the biased reporting. And how is it that you’re the only one who knows how the eyewitnesses were discredited?
jenjennjenni: someone explain to me how a hospital nurse messes up a blood test worse than cops doing it.
CeliaRN0612: I don’t have specific information about this case, but I know that most hospitals use a different method of testing than crime labs, and use only the serum part of the blood. This requires the results to be recalibrated in order to obtain a proper BAC and not everyone uses the same formula. Also, hospital tests don’t always separate out ethanol alcohol (drinking alcohol) from the presence of other types, including the isopropyl that the nurse reportedly used to clean the IV port.
Out of curiosity, I do a search for “Chris Reale Brad Freeman” to see if maybe the Jude commenter is right and this blogger is someone who knows Brad Freeman. But there are no website hits except for articles about the accident.
This article should worry me, because if this Chris Reale guy thinks Freeman is innocent, that means he thinks I’m guilty. But instead of feeling worried, I feel comforted. Maybe there’s someone else out there who knows my secret. For some reason that makes me feel a little less alone.