“No, thanks. I can handle it.” Seth watched her go into the mudroom, heard the door open and close.
“I wish she’d let you go with her.” Carmella’s voice held a note of concern.
“She says I make decisions for her.”
“You do. You did, actually. But she’s become very independent since you broke up.”
“Tell me about it.”
Seth thought about her words this morning. God damn it, he had to get his act together. He had responsibilities and not to Julianne. To people like Johnny, who he was determined to help. “I’m going home tomorrow, Mama. I go back to work in the morning.”
“Do you have to go?” she said a little forlornly.
“Yeah, I do. It’s time. But you’ll get to see more of Julianne if I’m not here.”
“Seth—”
“No, that’s fine. It’s the truth and I’m finally admitting it.”
That night, he put her out of his mind, packed up his things and put them in the car. In the morning, he was drinking coffee with his mother when his phone rang.
“Mr. Casella, this is Johnny Cordello. I might be a little late for our meeting at your office because Grandma just got up and I don’t like to leave until she’s settled.
“That’s nice of you, John.” He was such a good kid. “I’ll have plenty to catch up on while I wait.”
A half-hour later, Seth walked into the small Legal Aid building in downtown Hidden Cove. The organization took up the entire space. There were offices along one wall for the full-time people, and cubicles in the main room for the lawyers who worked pro bono and needed to come in. Seth startled when all those present stood and clapped. “Glad to have you back,” Ellen told him, after the applause.
“Hey, thanks everybody. It’s good to be back.”
“Half-days, right?” Ellen said, cocking her head.
“Sure.”
She accompanied him to his office, cramped quarters at best but big enough to meet with clients. “You’re working the Cordello case. Others have been handling the ones that weren’t settled when you left. Some of them resolved. You can take back those that didn’t, but gradually.”
“Good to know. I have my hands full right now with Johnny.”
Ellen looked at him. “Seth, don’t get too personally involved in this one. It sounds like heartbreak waiting to happen.”
“Not if I can help it, Ellen.”
When she left, Seth booted up his computer and checked his email. His inbox was full, though he’d cleared it out twice from home. He answered what was urgent, then went online to the NY State Guidelines for Foster Care. Johnny said he’d visited the site, but he didn’t know how much information the boy had found out. In a half-hour, he walked to the doorway. “Hello, Seth.”
“Hey, Johnny, come on in and sit.”
Dressed in what probably were his best clothes, long khaki pants and a collared shirt, he dropped down across the desk in the empty chair. “You feelin’ better?”
“Yes, enough to be in the office today.”
“Was it scary coming in? After what happened?
“I guess I was so happy to have something to do, I didn’t think much about that.”
“Man, I woulda been scared.”
“I don’t know if you would have. You seem pretty tough to me. Now, let’s discuss how this will all shake out.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
“I’ve set up a meeting with the Office of Children and Family Services for next week.”
“They wouldn’t even let me have a face-to-face appointment.”
“When you get the law involved, they often comply. Let me say that I think the OCFS does really good work. But they can make mistakes and have glitches. Let’s hope you were one of those.
* * *
“Hello, Darcy.” Julianne handed a nametag to the first little girl to enter her room at Westside Elementary. This summer, she’d met with all the families of children who’d be placed in music therapy. She got to know each child a bit, talked to the parents about her programs and left them some printed information.
“Hi, Ms. Ford.” Darcy slapped the plastic square on her shirt and walked inside. “Take a stool on the mat.”
Soon, all the students arrived and she closed the door.
“Where’s the desks?” a boy named Perry asked.
“Stacked over there in the corner. When we need a flat surface to write or draw on, we’ll use them.”
“So, wha-da-we-do today?” Junita wanted to know.
“We’re going to have a drum circle.” She pointed to six hand drums in the center of the mat. “We’ll use those.”
The purpose of this first lesson with her students was to encourage socialization, interaction and cooperation. It also inspired creativity.
Darcy frowned. “I don’t know how to play a drum.”
One child, Mackenzie, scowled but said nothing.
“No problem. I’ll show you how to do it. Everybody can pick one out now.” She waited until they each grabbed a drum, then returned to the circle. “The first thing to do is to hit the drum like this.” She simply patted the canvas of the one she’d saved for herself.
With various vigor, each child patted his or her drum.
“Next, do this.” She made three-pats. Stopped. Then one pat.
All of the kids were able to complete the pattern.
She made up another one, more complicated.
They followed suit.
After a couple more drills, she stopped and smiled at them. “See, you know how to use drums. Now listen to this.” She created a minute-long pattern.
“That doesn’t sound like nothin’.” Joel spoke up.
“It says how I feel.”
“It does?” Drew’s eyes were wide.
“Yep. Let me play it again and you can guess how I feel.”
The kids were wide-eyed but a few contributed guesses, that she felt happy, calm, good. “You’re all right. Now, I want you to bang out anything on the drums. You can stop when you get tired or if I hold my palm out like this.”
Nothing. Then Darcy started with gentle taps. Junita joined in with harder ones. Everybody played and the noise picked up…but Mackenzie. She let the girl observe the group. After a bit, she held up her palm. “Raise your hand if you drummed how you felt, like I did.”
Again, all but Mackenzie.
“That’s great, you guys. You expressed yourselves with the drums.”
After a few more exercises, class ended. Julianne rolled up the mat and put the drums away so she could leave the room in order for the next teacher to use. She’d successfully blocked thoughts of Terrance all morning, but now that she was finished here, it came back…
He said as he was leaving, What the fuck, lady. Who do you think you are?
I’m so sorry you were caught up in this, Terrance.
You will be. I could…never mind. You’ll see, Ms. Ford.
She left school upset all over again. She stopped to pick up a salad on the drive back to MusicWorks. Once inside, she headed to the back room, did a little paper work for the studio and ate her dinner. When she heard a knock out front, she hurried to the entrance, checked the window and opened the door. “Hey, you two.”