Chapter Twenty-One - Charlotte
My alarm goes off and I’ve hardly slept. Last night, Danny and I had talked on the phone for over an hour. My hunch was right about Michael and his girlfriend, and I’m so glad all that’s over, even if I’m feeling unsettled. Danny said he and Dad had decided not to press charges, and I’m glad about that, too. It sounds like my father, who has always believed in second—and third and fourth—chances. It’s why Danny is his best friend. It’s probably why he hung in there with Mom for as long as he did.
Danny and I had talked a lot about Michael, about Danny seeing himself in the kid, seeing reflections of himself at that age. After everything Danny and I talked about on his boat the other night, I understand why. I also understand that they had to fire Michael. Of course they did—he was stealing, and leaving him working around money isn’t giving him a second chance. It’s just being foolish. Still, I can’t help but feel worried about him, his girlfriend, and that baby they have on the way as I head out this morning.
I keep thinking about Catherine telling me how hard it was for her, keep playing it over in my head, her saying no one was there for her, that she had to do it alone. I want Michael and his family to have help, to not be alone, even if he’s made some serious mistakes. I can’t stand the thought of them being evicted or without power with it being so close to Christmas and with that sweet baby on the way.
I want to help them somehow. I decide to call my friend, Chloe, in Philadelphia. She’s a social worker who has done a lot of work with family support centers, so if anyone will have ideas, it would be her.
“Charlotte!” Chloe asks when I pick up, sounding bright and cheerful. “How’s small-town life treating you?” Chloe’s always like this, high energy all the time, even when I know she hasn’t been sleeping, or even home much. I don’t know how she does it.
“You should come visit me sometime and see for yourself,” I say. Chloe laughs into the phone. It’s loud wherever she is—I can hear music and yelling in the background.
“If I ever have a spare minute, I’ll let you know,” Chloe says. “So, girl, what’s up?”
“I need your advice, actually,” I tell her. “So there’s this teenage couple I know—he used to work for my dad and she’s pregnant. He’s out of work now, and her parents kicked her out, so they’re trying to do it all on their own and struggling. I thought you might know of agencies or programs that could help them?”
“Do you know how far along she is?” Chloe asks, sounding all business now. “And if she has an OB-GYN?”
“I would say about eight months,” I estimate, thinking of the girl I’d seen in the parking lot and of pregnant patients I’ve worked with. “I don’t know if she does or not?”
“Okay. Give me, like, an hour, and I’m going to email you a ton of information and forms for them to fill out to get assistance, okay? It’s probably easier that way, and they can’t do much without those. Have them fill out everything they can, and if you want, you can put me on the speaker to walk them through any questions they have. I’ll include lists of anything local, too, so they can go talk to someone in person.”
“You’re the best, Chloe. Thank you so much,” I say, relieved.
“Of course, honey,” Chloe says, warmly. She goes over a few of the details of what she’s sending, and then we hang up, her promising I’ll have all the forms soon. I call Danny as soon as we hang up.
“Morning,” he says, sounding a little like he hasn’t slept himself.
“Hey, do you have an address for Michael?” I ask.
“In the files, why?” Danny asks, sounding curious.
“I just talked to a social worker friend of mine, and she’s sending me forms for them so they can get medical checkups and housing assistance and things for the baby,” I say.
“You did?” Danny asks. He sounds surprised in a pleased sort of way.
“I was worried about them,” I say.
“Me too,” Danny admits, “I was actually going to go see them today myself. I talked to a friend of mine who owns that lumber yard off the highway. He works with a lot of kids who’ve had a hard time, even kids who’ve done time. He’s willing to offer Michael a job if he’ll take it.”
“That’s fantastic,” I say, meaning it. The fact that Danny had done that, had been worried and gone out of his way to help Michael like that, even after Michael had stolen from his business, really impresses me. It’s such a kind and generous thing to do. I think maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, Danny has shown himself to be nothing but kind and caring.
“We could go over together if you want,” Danny says.
“I’d like that,” I say, beaming. It still sort of takes my breath away, that someone I’d once thought so little of could be such a wonderful man.
We meet and drive over to the other side of town together. In the car, I grab Danny’s hand across the console, and he smiles at me and runs his thumb over my knuckles as we drive. I love that Danny and are doing this together, that we’re helping these scared kids together. I feel like Danny and I make a great team, like we’re better together, somehow.
Michael looks nervous when he greets us at the door, like maybe he thinks we’re here because Danny and Dad have changed their minds about pressing charges. But he and his girlfriend, Amanda, both start crying when we explain the real reason for our visit to them.
I go over the forms with them, explaining how they can get help with everything from daycare once the baby is born to assistance with their bills right now. Danny gives Michael his friend’s business card and tells him there is a job waiting if he wants it. They both thank us over and over and tell us how scared they’ve been, how they really weren’t sure day to day how they were going to make it.
“This is the best Christmas present we could have asked for,” Amanda says, with tears in her eyes, hugging me, and I can feel the baby kick a little in her stomach as she does, like maybe it’s sharing its own thanks as well, too. “Thank you so much, both of you.”
I tear up a little myself at that, and Danny slides an arm around my waist, holding me tightly. I think about everything being connected—like something had brought me back here, right now, not just for Dad, but for Catherine, for Michael and Amanda, for Danny, and for myself.
I hope that wherever she is right now, Catherine can see us, that’s she’s laughing that raspy laugh of hers at how well everything’s come together over the past few days. Maybe it’s ridiculous, but I can’t help but feel better about everything thinking that Catherine will be watching over Amanda and the baby from now on.