An Accidental Family Ch. 02

"Look at me, Lisa." Lisa continued to look at the floor. Jen gently lifted her chin until Lisa was looking at her before continuing,

"Lisa, we love you like our own daughter. We want you to be our daughter. Our accidental family wouldn't be complete without you, without Lucy, and without Bel. We love you all, and we are all in this together."

Lisa didn't say anything, but tears began to pool in the corner of her eyes and leak down her cheeks.

"Lisa, how would your sisters get by in the world without their big sister to protect them? Without their big sister to keep them safe," I asked while coming around the table to join the hug.

Lisa's lip quavered and she said in a voice like a lost child, "but they don't need me anymore. They want you now Jen, they don't want me anymore."

"Oh baby, they will always need you. But you are their big sister, not their mom. It must be hard to remember, but you are still just a child yourself. Let me be the mom for a while, so that you can just be yourself. Lucy and Bel need a big sister just as much as they need a mom."

"I'm ... I'm not sure I know how to be myself."

"That's okay, we can figure that out together," I replied holding her and Jen as tightly as I could.

Pulling back, I said to Lisa, "there are still some significant battles for us to win, though, before we can make this official. We need to find a house for us all to live in. There is no way that Child Protective Services are going to make us your permanent guardians unless we find a forever home for all of us. I think I've got a plan, but please don't say anything to your sisters, I don't want them to ..."

"Bel, Bel, we are going to have a forever home! A forever home!"

Apparently, Lucy had gotten out of bed and come to see what we were talking about and had overheard the last part of our conversation. Hearing Lucy's excitement, Bel came running into the living room in her pyjamas, smiling and jumping around the room before stopping and cocking her head.

"What's a forever home?"

The Talk, Part 3

Now that our girls knew we were getting married and were dreaming of a forever home, the pressure was on. I had to come through. I had a plan, but I had no fallback and no safety net.

The first step in my plan was a tough conversation with my mom. The next day, I called her up and asked if I could come by after work to talk. She said she was coming over later to see our girls anyway, but I replied that I would prefer to talk in private. For once, she agreed without asking any questions.

When I arrived, we went and sat in her kitchen. After all this time, I still hadn't gotten used to seeing the things that used to be in our house on the acreage crammed into her small apartment. The pictures of mom and dad when they were young. The pictures of dad and me in the shop, and mom and me in the garden. All the memories. I tried to hold myself together as I started to speak.

I told mom about what Cindy's mother and the social worker had said. I told her that, despite how much we loved our girls and how the entire community had rallied to support them, they would be taken away from us in a matter of weeks unless we could find a permanent home for our family.

Mom asked how we were going to find a place that was large enough for six, fast enough to meet the deadline. That's when I told her about my plan.

"It's not the house so much that's the problem, Mom, it's the money. I can get us a place, it would be just under the wire, but I can do it. But I don't have the money for the down payment."

"Well, my dear, I can contribute a bit each month from my retirement savings, but I'm afraid it won't be enough to really make a difference."

"Thanks, Mom, but I would never ask you to do that. There is one way that I can get the money that we need, though. I can sell the Shelby."

At that point, I couldn't hold back any longer. I felt like I did on the day that I found my father dead in his shop. The minutes I sat holding his head in my lap. The long drive home to tell mom that the love of her life was gone.

"I know it's the last piece of dad that we have left, it's his legacy. But selling it is the only way I can think of to protect our girls. They need us mom. We need them to make our family complete. I wouldn't ask you otherwise."

I was now bawling uncontrollably. The grief I had carried for more than a decade came pouring out of me, as I sat in my mom's kitchen holding her hands. Mom reached over and pulled me into a hug, rubbing the back of my neck like she used to when I was little.

"Jeremy Thomas, that Shelby isn't your father's only legacy. It's not even his best. His legacy is the friends he made and the families he helped. His legacy is the community that he helped to build. You know, I still can't go into a shop or go out to the diner without someone stopping to tell me how much your father did for them. How much he meant to them. How much they miss him.

"By far his best legacy, though, is you. He would be so proud of the man that you have become. And now his new legacy is Jason, and your girls as well. God, he would have loved those girls so fiercely. He would have doted on them, teased them, and hugged them. He would have done everything in his power, moved heaven and earth, to keep them together and to keep them safe.

"It might be hard for you to hear, but the Shelby is the least part of his legacy. It's just a car. It's a beautiful car, thanks to you, and Jason and your dad ... but it's just a car.

"Can I tell you a secret? Your dad loved that car. But it wasn't because of the car itself, as beautiful as it is. He loved that car because working on it gave him a chance to spend time with you. As you were getting older, he worried that you would pull away, would lose interest in spending time with him. Yes, he chose that car because he could see its potential. But mainly, he chose it because working on it together would give him a chance to watch you grow into a man.

"You are the reason he loved that car, Jeremy Thomas. If we kept that car and you lost your girls, I would never be able to face your father when I see him at the Pearly Gates. I wouldn't be able to bear his disappointment, and neither would you.

"But it is just a car. It's a nice car and all, but I don't think that selling a used car is going to give you the miracle that you need."

That's when I leaned over and told my mom about the man from the auction house, and what the minimum bid for the Shelby would be when it went up for sale. She sat there in stunned silence for a minute before saying, "Oh my. That is a lot of money, isn't it."

A Plan Takes Shape

The weeks before our wedding were some of the most intense of our lives. Jen was a superhero. Nothing else that we did would have mattered if she hadn't kept our family together through the trauma, grief, and uncertainty of those weeks. She kept the kids fed, clothed, sane, and loved all while terrified that they would be taken away from us at any moment. She did the hard work, while trusting that I had a plan for eating that third bite of the elephant.

For my part, I did my best to work, help with the kids, and pull together a miracle. I still had the man from the auction house's card so, steeling my nerve, I made the call. I knew that he wanted my car for his auction, but I didn't know how desperate he was. And that was a problem because I was about as desperate as you could be. You never want to be the more desperate party in a negotiation.

To make matters worse, I couldn't even wait until after the auction in June for the money from the sale. I needed at least part of it now, or my plan would fall apart.

Normally, I wasn't that strong of a negotiator, probably because of my easygoing nature. So, I kept an image of our girls front and center in my mind as I made the call. That negotiation was for them and for their future. I couldn't afford to screw it up.

The phone rang and, eventually, I was connected to the man I had spoken with at the restaurant.

"It's great to hear from you. JT, was it?"

"Yes sir, thanks for taking my call. I am reconsidering your offer to sell my father's 1967 Shelby GT500 as part of your auction in June."

"That's fantastic news! If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind?"

"To be honest, I am not 100% certain that I have changed my mind. You see, I need maybe half of the likely auction price in cash by the end of the week, or there is no point in my selling it at all."

"JT, I would love to help you but that's not how auctions work. We sell your car; you keep the money minus our 10% commission," he paused. "But only after we sell it."

"I know that is how things usually work. But the way I see it, a fully restored mint condition 1967 Shelby GT500 is the kind of car that could drive significant interest in your auction. It's the kind of car that will bring buyers through the door. It's worth more to you than just the commission. And, if I don't have the cash for a down payment on a house by Friday noon at the latest, three little girls that I love, who have lost both their parents and have very little hope right now, are going to wind up in the system.

"So, you really want my car in your auction. I really want to have it in your auction. There must be a way for us to make this happen."

In the end, we made things work. I moved on the commission rate, and he agreed to give me an advance of 50% of the Shelby's reserve bid. There were conditions and inspections and even a lawyer or two before it was all said and done, but once we had an agreement it all came together surprisingly quickly. It didn't hurt that the man from the auction house had been in the foster system himself, before being adopted by a loving family. In fact, without that stroke of good fortune, I am not sure if the deal would have come together. But it did, and so, against all reasonable hope, I had the money I needed for a down payment on a house.

With the advance in hand and using the shop as collateral, I secured a mortgage and then a home for our family. It needed some work ... okay, it needed a LOT of work, but it was ours.

And that was the second time that winter that the Shelby saved our girls.

------

The following afternoon, a truck from the auction house showed up at the garage just after 3:00 P.M. to take the Shelby away. The men from the transport company were professionals. After I signed the release, they had it loaded and strapped down in less than ten minutes. "That's a beautiful car, man. You must be sad to see it go," was all they said. I sat with my back against the wall of the shop, watching them work as fat tears rolled silently down my cheeks.

I was alone in my grief until I felt someone sit down beside me. I looked over and saw that it was George. His normally happy expression was tempered with something as close to sadness as I had ever seen.

"Why are they taking the car, JT?"

"Because it's time, George. Because it's time."

He thought about that for a bit as the men got into their truck.

"Will we ever see it again, JT?"

"I don't think so, George, and I am not sure if I would want to. I think it might be too hard."

As the truck pulled out of the yard, I took a final look at the Shelby. It had been with me, in one way or another, for over half of my life. It had been with me for longer than my father. It got smaller as the truck drove further away, then it was gone.

"It was a beautiful car, JT. It was beautiful."

We sat there for a while, watching the cars on the highway until it was time to go home.

Road Trip

With most of my plan in place, I turned my focus towards our wedding. It wasn't going to be the biggest or fanciest celebration. In fact, it wasn't going to be much of a wedding at all, but if it meant that our girls would be with us for good, that was all we needed.

There was a question I needed to ask Jen before our big day, but I wasn't sure how it would be received or even if I should bring it up. I went back and forth in my head, but still, I wasn't sure. Finally, one night while we were doing dishes after dinner, I just came out and asked her.

"I know that things aren't good between you and your parents, but did you want them to be at our wedding?"

Jen thought about the question and let out a small sigh before answering.

"I would love for them to be at our wedding, if I thought they could be happy and supportive of our accidental family. But I don't think they have it in them. They were always religious when I was growing up, but they were kind and generous. About a decade ago, however, they switched churches, and something changed for them. They became righteous and angry, so angry all the time. They blamed me for my divorce, and I am sure they still do."

"Alright, no need to poke that unpleasant-sounding bear if you don't want to."

Jen didn't reply, and I thought the conversation was over. Later that evening she came back to me, though, and said that she would like to give her parents one more chance. We decided that we would drive to Atlanta the next day to talk with them in person.

That evening, I got the call I was expecting. What I heard put a smile on my face and some joy in my heart. Jen noticed my buoyant mood and asked, "what's gotten into you?"

"Give me a day and I will tell you. Or, even better, I will show you."

------

The next day after work, my mom came over to watch the kids while Jen and I went to see her parents. I could feel Jen getting tenser the closer we got.

"You know, we don't have to do this. We can just turn around and go back."

"No. I owe it to them to give this one more try, if not for me then for Jason. He deserves the chance to have his grandparents in his life."             

Jen's family home was a white stucco bungalow that would have been the height of fashionable in the mid-eighties. The lawn in front was immaculate.

We walked to the door and rang the bell. The woman who answered was striking. She had shoulder-length blonde hair—it was clear where Jen got her looks.

"Jennifer!" she exclaimed. "You've come home. I told father you would. Come in, come in. And who is your friend?"

"My name is JT, ma'am," I said, extending my hand.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, JT. I am Jennifer's mother, Valerie. Father," she called back into the house, "come look who it is. Jennifer is home."

A minute later, an older man wearing a button-down shirt and sweater vest appeared. He stopped and looked at Jen, before saying, "come on through then."

He turned and walked into the strangest living room I had ever seen. Everything in the room was immaculate, clean, folded, pressed, and bleached. It was like someone had taken a showroom from a furniture store twenty years ago and then had it hermetically sealed in plastic.

Jen and I took a seat on the sofa. I could hear the air escape from under the plastic cover as we sat, and I tried to get used to the sticky friction as I shifted closer to Jen.

"What brings you home, Jennifer?" her father asked in a less than friendly voice. "Have you repented of your sinful ways?"

"Mom, dad, I wanted to let you know that JT and I are getting married. The wedding is this weekend, and you are invited to come, if you would like."

Her parents sat stone-faced for a minute not saying anything. Her father's cheeks began to redden, however, and I could see a prominent vein in his forehead begin to pulse.

"Jennifer, you are still married to Bill. You cannot marry this man. I forbid it."

"Dad, I am not married to Bill anymore. We divorced. He left me and I haven't seen or heard from him since."

"You are not divorced in the eyes of the lord! 'For I hate divorce, says the Lord, the God of Israel.'"

I could tell Jen's father was getting angrier as he began to sweat. I edged closer to her with a loud squeak of cotton on plastic.

"Dad, we have had this fight before. It is not my fault that Bill left me."

"Jennifer, you have never known your place," her father replied sharply. "A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet."

Jen looked at me with a mournful expression, "this was a mistake, JT. We should go." As we got up to leave, her parents rose angrily to their feet as well.

"Mom, Dad, I will tell Jason that you send your love."

"You are a selfish, fallen woman. Bill was a good god-fearing boy before he met you. He only strayed when you strayed from the Lord. You owe it to him to keep a good home, and to wait patiently for him to find his way back to righteousness. 'Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior.'

"How can your husband find salvation when you have turned away from the Lord?"

Jen turned in the entryway.

"Mom and Dad, I love you both, but this is too much. The Lord bless you and keep you safe."

At this, her father looked enraged and took a step towards her.

"You keep the Lord's name out of your whorish mouth! You would condemn a man to damnation just to satisfy your earthly desires? You have become a Jezebel and have earned God's eternal punishment."

Jen looked defeated as we put on our shoes and left. She didn't look back even once as we drove away.

------

We traveled in silence for a long while.

"Well, I guess I didn't get your dad's blessing, did I?" I asked to break the tension.

"I'm sorry, Jen. I had no idea it would be that bad."

"There's no way you could have known, JT. Their minds have been poisoned by anger and fear. You know, it was good that we went. If we hadn't, I would have always felt guilty for excluding them from such an important day in my life. Now, well ... fuck 'em, I guess."

"You know, they never even asked about Jason," I observed. It seemed incredible that they would have so little interest in their only grandson.

"They view his autism as some kind of punishment from God for my sins. They used to say prayers and try to lay hands on him to 'cure' him of his affliction, but my sin was too deep for him to be saved."

"That's all kinds of messed up. Poor Jason. And poor you."

As we talked, we were approaching the old acreage. I stopped and got out to open the gate. Unlike the last time we visited, I had the key.

"What are we doing here? And why do you have the key to the gate?" Jen asked, looking confused.

"Well, we needed a home, and this is the house that I have always thought of as home, so I bought it at the foreclosure sale. This is our home now, or I guess my home until the wedding Sunday, then it will be our forever home."

Jen's eyes opened wide, and she asked, "but how can we afford it? How can you afford it?"

"I spoke with mom, and we agreed to sell the Shelby. It's going to be auctioned in June, and the advance paid for the down payment on this place."

"No, JT! That's too much. You can't sell the Shelby. Your dad ..."

"It's already done, Jen. It's already gone. You and Jason, and our girls, are more important than any car. Even that car."

"But your poor mom ..."

"It was mom's idea to sell it once she found out what it was worth. She insisted that I use the money to buy our forever home. She will be surprised, however, when she finds out which forever home we bought," I said with a grin.

"Won't this house have bad memories for her? Will she even be able to visit without being overwhelmed by the past?"

"Mom loved this house. Dad built it and she made it a home. If she could have, she never would have left. I think she will be thrilled for us. She would want us to have a solid house with a good foundation. She knows firsthand how solid this house is, and how deep its foundations run.