Jury of One

75

Shelly walked into the interview room at the county lockup. Ronnie Masters still wore a blue button-down shirt and khaki pants, looked like he was readying himself for church.

He looked different to her, though, more at ease than ever before. All of the calculating was over. He had had a mission all along, and that mission was apparently accomplished.

“How are you doing?” he asked her.

“The bump on my head is fine,” she said. “I’m not sure about the rest of me.”

“What are they gonna do about Alex?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Probably keep going.”

“But you’ll win now.”

“Probably. You and I need to talk about your testimony. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

“What’s the other?”

“The other-” She looked up at the ceiling. She thought of all the times she had spoken with Ronnie about Alex, back when she thought Alex was her son. All of the questions Ronnie had asked. Was she ashamed of her son? Was she mad that her son had come to find her?

She opened her hands. “I’m sorry, Ronnie.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry because-because-”

“Because you gave me up for adoption?” he asked. “That wasn’t such a bad move.”

“Because I didn’t come to find you. Because I didn’t try.”

She felt another shiver run through her. She could never pinpoint exactly why she had never looked up her son. There were plenty of rationalizations. She didn’t want to burst into a happy child’s life and cause chaos. She feared her child’s rejection. She would never know the reasons. Maybe that was no longer the point.

“The whole thing was probably tough on you,” Ronnie said.

“Tough on me.” She grimaced. “Ronnie, I-” She felt her throat close, the emotion rise. She thought of her own parents, the years lost after Ronnie was conceived.

She walked over and sat next to him. “Listen. I don’t really know what I’m doing. It’s not like there’s a manual or anything.” Her hand lingered in the air.

“A manual for what?”

“I-” She framed her hands in the air. “I-we need to-I want to be a part of things. I don’t know how this is going to work. I just-”

“Just be my friend, Shelly. I already have a mom.” He said it with such simplicity. Shelly was impressed by his strength, grateful for his generosity.

She touched his hand. “I can do that. I want to do that.”

Her cell phone rang. She held her breath. This was the fifth phone call.

“You should answer that,” Ronnie said.

“It can wait. We have to talk about your testimony.”

“Maybe it’s important.”

“It can wait.” She went to her bag and removed a notepad. Then she put it down. She thought of her father. She thought of family. She looked back at Ronnie.

“I have always loved my child,” she said, surprised at the strength of her voice. “I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl or anything else. But I have always carried around so much love for that child. I know it’s hard to understand, because I didn’t do anything about-”

“You think it’s hard for me to understand?” Ronnie stood up. “You loved someone you had never met. So did I. I understand. Is that what you need to hear? I forgive you. Okay? It was tough, and you have all kinds of thoughts swirling around your head. It’s a lot different when it moves from the abstract to real. Believe me, I get it. Just-don’t get so worked up about labels. Let’s just-y’know-hang together. Watch each other’s backs. Have some fun once in a while. Stay a-a part of each other.”

She walked over and extended a hand. He took it and pulled her into a hug. “There,” he said. “Not so bad, was it? Friends hug.”

“Okay.” Her throat choked, but she felt unimaginable relief. He was making this so easy for her. “Now, as inappropriate as it may seem, we really do need to talk about your testimony.” She grabbed his shoulder, then moved to the other side of the table and picked up her notepad.

“Can I have ten bucks for the movies tonight?” he asked.

She laughed.

“Can I stay out past my curfew?”

“Cease and desist.” She raised a hand.

“Can I sleep over at Billy’s?”

“Only if you clean your room. Now, can we talk about your testimony?”

“Hey-” He shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to make up for lost time.”

Lost time. Time lost. She had spent so long pining over it, she had forgotten to turn her head forward. Her cell phone rang again. She reached for it and turned it off.