Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
RACHEL
When I arrived to work the following morning, it was to find Scott in the parking lot again waiting for me.
I bit back an exasperated sigh. Today was going to be difficult enough when I scheduled a meeting with my superiors to make my recommendation for Frankie’s care.
I didn’t have the energy to deal with Scott too.
My eyes drifted to my purse where my phone was.
I could call the police, Mojave had that video of last time and I could start a paper trail for the harassment at the very least. But that had the potential to go poorly depending on which officer showed up.
Not all of Scott’s friends were part of the mess that got him suspended, and they might still side with him despite what he’d done.
I thought about calling Mojave, at least to have someone familiar around, but then reconsidered that option.
Mojave was already protective and he’d mentioned struggling with noise lately.
If Scott was loud, it’d make things worse for Mojave.
In the end, I texted Ted to let him know I was in the parking lot dealing with Scott, just so someone knew what was going on. He usually arrived around the same time I did, so he’d be here soon to call the police on my behalf if Scott acted out again.
Pushing my door open, I grabbed my purse and slid it onto my shoulder before stepping out of the car.
Scott was leaning against my dad’s car, still looking like he was in serious need of a shower, but his expression was carefully neutral this time.
He straightened when I locked the door behind me and I knew if I ignored him, it’d only make things worse.
Instead, I turned to face him and just waited.
A flash of irritation crossed his face before he masked it, coming closer to talk to me. “Rachel. Can we talk?”
“I only have a minute. I’ve got work to do,” I answered evenly.
I saw his jaw flex as he worked to keep his temper at bay.
He wasn’t like this when I first married him.
He’d seemed so genuine and kind, and he always said how much he wanted to do good with the community.
It was after we got married that the mask slipped.
He introduced me to his work buddies and then started talking about traditional wife roles and complaining about my work, my weight, the fact that I wasn’t interested in getting pregnant right away.
I didn’t want kids until we were in a better place, and he refused to even consider the idea of couples therapy to get us back on track.
It didn’t help that my parents fully supported him and ignored my feelings on the matter.
Maybe if he’d been honest from the start, we wouldn’t have had to go through all this drama.
He could just find someone who wanted that kind of life and we’d both move on.
Drawing in a deep breath, he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from the open window of the car, offering them to me. “Here.”
I didn’t take them, which only seemed to irritate him more. “Scott, what is this?”
“It’s an apology,” he insisted, thrusting the flowers at me again. “That’s what you want, right?”
I shook my head slowly. “No, Scott. That’s not what I want. I don’t want anything from you. I just want to move on.”
For a second, he looked hurt before the anger came back. “We made vows–”
“Vows you broke when you cheated,” I interrupted.
“So? You were supposed to forgive me! We could’ve made it work! It was just a release, it didn’t mean anything!”
Pressing my lips tightly together, I fought to stay in control of my emotions.
It wouldn’t do any good to lower myself to his level.
He’d only continue to escalate. “It meant something to me. We’ve talked about this before, Scott.
I’m not going to keep hashing it out. We’re divorced.
Try to move on and find someone who better suits you.
I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier if you do. ”
I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist, putting his hands up when I jerked away automatically. “Wait. Wait. What if… What if we open the relationship?”
My eyes widened in shock as I demanded, “What?”
He nodded, looking like he was trying to sound reasonable as he explained, “I told you, it didn’t mean anything.
I didn’t love the women or whatever. I just wasn’t getting what I needed from you.
” He gestured to me significantly. “I mean, come on. You put on a lot of weight and–” He stopped himself when I glowered at him and returned to the topic.
“Sorry. Just, if we open the relationship, I can get what I need and we can still be together. We can make it work, Rach. Just give me another chance to prove myself. We–”
“No.”
My short response seemed to stun him. He’d been warming up to the topic, looking almost excited by the prospect. Meanwhile, my opinion of him had dropped significantly. If he really thought I’d go for that kind of thing, then he never truly knew me at all.
“What? That’s it? You’re not even going to give it a chance?”
“No,” I repeated firmly. “I’m not going to consider it. We’re not getting back together, Scott. Nothing you say or do will change that. You need to move on.”
Unwilling to stand around and listen to him any longer, I spun on my heel and walked away, still silently seething as I unlocked the office door and flicked on the lights.
I was only inside for a minute before the door opened again, and I whipped my head around, ready and willing to call the cops if Scott followed me inside.
Thankfully, it was Ted, not Scott, who’d joined me.
He looked a little worried, studying me with a frown, but I waved him off.
“It’s fine. He’s gone.”
Ted let it go because he was a good friend, but I was still too worked up to sit down and do my job. Instead, I picked up my phone and called my parents, knowing both were early risers and would be awake to answer this early.
“Rachel?” my mom answered after the second ring. “Is something wrong?”
“Put dad on the phone too, please,” I answered in a clipped tone.
She probably heard the frustration in my voice because for once she didn’t argue. “Okay. Sure, honey. Hold on just a second.”
I waited for her to go to wherever my dad was, likely his office if I had to guess, then put the phone on speaker. “Alright, dear. You’ve got both of us here. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that I realized I need to be more clear about my boundaries.
I’m not going to accept Scott’s harassment anymore, nor will I continue to allow the people in my life to ignore my wants and needs to prioritize him.
If you continue to support Scott, then I’ll need to reevaluate our relationship going forward. ”
“Rachel–” my mom began, but I cut her off before she could get going.
“No, Mom. He showed up at my office this morning to ask me for an open relationship. If you truly don’t see what’s wrong with that, then I’ve got nothing left to say to either of you. I’m going to work now. You can let me know your decision at the end of the day. Goodbye.”
I hung up without waiting on a response.
I’d needed to put up that boundary for a while.
I couldn’t keep ignoring them supporting my ex and dismissing my own feelings on the matter.
The only reason I waited was because I was afraid they’d choose him in the end and right after my divorce, I wasn’t sure I could handle the loss.
Now, though, I was done accepting that kind of treatment.
A text message came through and I gritted my teeth as I turned the phone over to look at the screen. I was expecting Scott or my parents to berate me for being so harsh, and I only let out a breath when I read the message attached to the unfamiliar number.
Unknown: Got your number from Zero. Frankie wanted to send you this. Said it looked like the figure on your desk.
Attached was a picture of a cloud and I felt some of the tension ease as a smile tugged at my life.
Maybe, if I squinted, it might resemble the little ceramic turtle on my desk.
It’d been a gift from one of my kids after the anniversary of their adoption, hand painted by them, and it lived permanently on my desk since I received it.
I hadn’t realized Frankie even noticed when she’d visited me.
She’d only looked at my desk for a minute before wandering off to the play area.
Rachel: Thank you. I needed that. Hope you’re having a nice walk to school. Tell Frankie if she does her best, I’ll bring her something special when I join you for pick up.
Mojave sent a thumbs up in return but didn’t add any more. I didn’t think he would either. He wasn’t a man of many words, tending to stay back and just watch instead of joining in on conversations. The only person he responded to regularly was Frankie.
His message helped settle my mood a little, and after receiving another update picture from a family I helped adopt last year, I felt clear headed enough to start the paperwork for escalating Frankie’s file.
I documented everything I’d discussed with the family the night prior, adding it to the extensive notes I already had, and added in everything from the call logs showing multiple ignored called, the email threads where I sent resources and follow ups and never heard back, as well as the teachers’ past attempts to get Frankie’s parents involved with schooling.
Documenting what the parents had said about not wanting Frankie and changing their ways being not worth it threatened to upset me all over again, but I put the emotions aside for now. I had a job to do.
After everything was documented, I called my superior to tell her what happened and make my official recommendation.
Despite the fact that Frankie had a roof over her head and clothes, her situation couldn’t be ignored any longer.
Her parents’ refusal to provide the proper care and support she needed could have negative effects on her in the future.
If we wanted to prevent that, then action needed to be taken.
Maybe after some time with their daughter away, they’d realize they were making a mistake and shape up. That was the hope anyway.
Nothing would happen overnight. There would be more paperwork, more documentation, and a meeting with a judge, but in the meantime, I started looking at my fosters in the area.
There were more in the nearby city, but the thought of taking Frankie away from Mojave felt cruel.
There were a handful in the town proper, but one I knew had a problem with the local crew, which would make things complicated with Mojave around, and the other preferred babies over older kids.
My mind flicked to Mojave and got stuck there.
If there was one place that Frankie would be happy, it’d be with him.
But he wasn’t a registered foster parent, and I had no idea what his living situation was like or if he’d even be willing to go that far.
He’d need to be okay with home studies, background checks, interviews, and random drop-ins.
He’d already done a lot to care for Frankie without being obligated.
I wasn’t sure he’d be okay with doing more.
I couldn’t just dismiss it, though. Not when he did half the job of being a parent already.