Bringing Rosie Home

Chapter Six

ONCE THE NECESSARY interviews and paperwork were complete, Agent Gonzalez handed Grant directions to the psychiatrist’s office. He took note of Rena's thin smile. It was what she'd always done when trying to hide displeasure. Wasn't his fault, was it, that the guy was more comfortable with him than Rena. She could just as easily have stayed in touch with the agent.

“Dr. Robson is better equipped to take care of a kid,” he said, walking them toward the building’s entrance, “so I suggested that she take your little girl over there. Who knows what sort of madness Rosie would see or hear if she hung around the station much longer.”

“We appreciate that,” Grant said, shaking the man’s hand.

“And we appreciate your patience and understanding,” Rena said. “We pretty much bombarded you with questions.”

“Happy to be of service.” The agent handed her a business card. “If you have any more questions, call me. Any time.” He grinned. “Can’t promise I’ll be much help, but I’ll do my level best. I’ll give Detective Campbell a call, get him caught up. He’ll probably want to talk with both of you once you’re settled in, you know, to dot any i’s and cross any t’s we might have missed.”

Grant pressed a palm to Rena’s lower back and guided her toward the parking lot.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” Gonzalez asked.

“Noon. But we can change it if we need to.”

“Don’t worry. Dr. Robson is the best at what she does. She’ll have you out of there in plenty of time to grab a bite to eat and catch a few z’s tonight. Be sure to give yourself plenty of time in the morning, though. O’Hare is a zoo.”

When they reached the psychiatrist’s office, the woman at the reception desk smiled. “May I help you?”

“We’re the VanMeters,” Grant said, “here for our—”

“Yes, of course. The doctor is just wrapping up a session. May I get you anything while you wait? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”

“Water if you have it,” Rena said. “I'm dry as the Sahara.”

The woman reached into a small fridge behind the counter and withdrew two bright blue bottles. “There you go. Make yourselves comfortable. I’m sure Dr. Robson will be with you shortly.”

Grant and Rena sat stiff and quiet on the sofa nearest the reception counter. Seeing that Rena was having trouble opening the bottle, he took it from her and unscrewed the cap.

“Thanks,” she said when he handed it back. “And please don’t tell me I don’t need to say thank-you. It’s a habit. Ungrateful people quickly wear out their welcome, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Especially now.”

Her knee was bouncing out a quick rhythm. She was obviously feeling as keyed up as he was.

“Okay,” he began, “from now on I—”

The door beside the reception desk opened. A gaunt, bearded man exited the office, and close on his heels, a scowling boy of twelve or thirteen. Behind them, a middle-aged redhead said, “See you next week, all right?”

The man nodded and the boy said something unintelligible as they left.

“You must be the VanMeters,” the doctor said. She took a few steps closer and extended her right hand. “I’m Dr. Robson. Please, come right in.”

They sat in the overstuffed leather chairs facing her desk.

“I see Marcie got you something to drink.” She plopped onto the seat of a high-backed swivel chair and proceeded to page through a file. “Need anything else before we begin?”

“Thanks,” Grant said, “but we’d rather just get on with things.”

His abrupt tone caused the doctor’s right eyebrow to lift slightly. To soften the blow, Rena tacked on, “So we can see Rosie as soon as possible.”

“It’s been my experience that situations like these are extremely traumatizing for families. I understand you two are separated?”

“I don’t recall either of us mentioning that,” Rena said.

“Agent Gonzalez prepares me well for dealing with children like Rosie.”

“We’ve been living apart for a while,” Grant told her, “but we haven’t made the separation official.”

She nodded. “Well, what’s significant is that you’ve decided to partner up again for your daughter’s sake. I’m sure you realize the importance of setting aside whatever differences you might still have, at least until we get an accurate read on how Rosie is coping with everything. I found her to be a bright, perceptive child.”

Her way of reminding them that their little girl would sniff out a phony relationship in a heartbeat?

Dr. Robson patted the file. “Do you mind talking about the reasons for your separation?”

* * *

RENA LOOKED TO GRANT, mostly to get a read on how he preferred to proceed, but he stared straight ahead.

“Grant didn’t ask me to leave, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

The doctor remained silent. Waiting, watching.

“I guess if I boiled it down to one thing, guilt was the major motivator in my decision. My attitude and behavior spilled into our everyday lives and made us both pretty miserable.”

Robson focused on Grant. “Is that how you see things, too?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes,” he said, drawing out the word. “Guilt and blame go hand in hand. I wasn’t exactly easy to live with, either.”

“Is that your way of saying you blamed Rena for the kidnapping?”

Another shrug.

“You realize, of course,” Robson continued, “that what happened could have happened to anyone, even the most diligent parent.”

Knowing Grant, he probably felt a little like a butterfly, pinned to a mat. Tina had come right out and admitted she’d told him the same thing, many times.

“It’s the logical way to view the situation,” Rena said. “But when it’s your child, it’s hard not to place blame. Nothing can change the fact that I looked away just long enough to enable the kidnapper. It’s something I’ll have to live with forever. Something I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to atone for.”

“Ah, so you were the only parent chaperone on the field trip?”

“Of course not. There were six, maybe seven moms in all, but they were all looking out for the children assigned to them. I can’t—won’t—blame anyone else.”

“That’s the trouble with self-importance,” the doctor said slowly. “It tends to take a terrible toll on the individual.” She paused then added, “For Rosie’s sake, you need to find another way to deal with your feelings, Mrs. VanMeter.”

Almost word for word what Martha had said. It hadn’t helped then, and it wasn’t helping now.

“If you insist on beating yourself up, you’ll need to find a way to do it in private. Even then, there’s a chance Rosie will pick up on it.”

She turned her attention to Grant again. “And you’ll need to set aside your anger toward Rena, at least in the presence of your daughter. I’m happy to recommend a marriage counselor that you can see in addition to whomever you choose for Rosie.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless neither of you believes a reconciliation is possible.”

Why had Robson aimed the question at her, instead of Grant? Maybe, Rena thought, because she thinks you’ll give a more straightforward answer...

“I can’t speak for Grant, but I’m certainly not opposed to getting back together. Permanently.” She could feel his eyes on her. Hopefully, her response hadn’t riled him further.

“Grant?” Robson said. “Do you feel the same way?”

“I, ah, well, I guess I’m not totally opposed to it.”

“Do I detect a but in your answer?”

He sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look. Doctor. You said what’s really important is that we set aside our differences, especially in Rosie’s presence. And I agree with that. Is it possible we’ll resolve the marriage problems while we’re faking it?” Yet another shrug. “Who knows? All I can say for sure is that I’ll do anything, anything to help my girl.”

How had he managed to sound surly and nonchalant at the same time? Rena wondered. Faking it. He could have slapped her and it wouldn’t have hurt as much.

Robson turned to another page in the file. “Will you be returning to work, Rena?”

In her opinion, this felt a lot more like an interrogation than a meeting to discuss what was best for Rosie. From the sound of things, Dr. Robson was looking for reasons not to send Rosie home with them.

She chose her words carefully. “No. For the time being, anyway, I have no plans to look for a new job. I want to be available twenty-four seven until I’m sure Rosie is all right, that she has acclimated to all of us being together again. And just so you know, Grant is taking some time off work, too.” She crossed her legs, and tugged at the hem of her skirt. “Agent Gonzalez told us he gave you a letter, written by the kidnapper? That there are things in it Grant and I need to hear?”

“Yes, that’s true. But let’s not rush.”

“Rosie and Rena and I have been apart long enough,” Grant ground out. “I say we cut to the chase, do whatever needs doing to put us together with her, ASAP.”

The doctor walked around to the front of her desk and sat on its corner, tapping an envelope against a heavy wooden nameplate.

“Oh, my,” Rena said. “My hands are shaking so badly, the words will blur.”

“I’m happy to read it aloud, if you like,” Robson said, “but if you’d rather, I’ll give you a few minutes to read it in private.”

Rena met Grant’s eyes. “It’s up to you.”

“Go ahead,” he told the doctor. “Read it. We’ll read it again later. At the hotel.”

She’d already stressed that they’d need to come back in the morning when, after Robson had a chance to observe the threesome and share her expert opinion on how to proceed, they could begin their trip home. Last night, they’d struggled to find things to talk about, and while lovely, the room hadn’t provided a place to escape from awkward silences. At least tonight, they’d have Barbara’s letter to discuss.

The doctor returned to her chair and swiveled to face them, head on.

“As you’ll recall,” Robson said, “Ms. Smith left this letter with her sister, with instructions that it was to be delivered unopened to the authorities in the event of her demise.” She slid the pages from the envelope. “Agent Gonzalez has a copy in his file, as do I. This is the original, and it’s for you.

“I’ve spoken with the sister—and several other close relatives—about this matter. They were horrified to learn what Barbara had done, but they’d never met Rosie—or Ruby, as Barbara called her.”

“How many relatives were there?”

“Just the sister and her grown children. They lived relatively nearby.”

“But they never met her?”

“According to my interviews, they did not.”

“Good. Because...I can't speak for Grant, but I'm not in favor of visiting rights!”

Rena might as well have remained silent for all the attention the doctor paid her comment.

“Her sister told me that Barbara was suicidal after losing her husband and child. Sounds like she suffered survivor’s guilt.”

“Agent Gonzalez told me the drunk driver only got five years? That must have made things tougher,” Grant said.

Robson sniffed. “The man had a good lawyer, for one thing, and it was his first offense, for another. Throw in a sympathetic judge...” She ran a hand across the tidy handwriting that filled the first page of the letter. “I think learning more about her will make it easier for you to understand what she did.”

“Understand? You must be joking!” Rena said. “Nothing you say, and nothing in that letter can make me understand how a person steals someone else’s child. Grant and I lived without Rosie for years because of her. She took a part of us when she took Rosie. Losing her nearly destroyed us, but we didn’t go out and kidnap someone else’s child to ease our pain!”

Rena felt the heat of an angry blush coloring her cheeks. The office grew quiet, so quiet she could hear the steady swish of the pendulum, swaying right and left in the body of Robson’s stately grandfather clock. What was the woman waiting for...her or Grant to say that they’d split up because it seemed less agonizing than holding on to one another?

“While I agree with Rena, we’re not any closer to seeing Rosie, now are we?” Grant pointed out.

“I just want to take a moment to stress how important it is that you’re honest with yourselves. If you aren’t absolutely sure you can present a united front, it’ll be better for Rosie if you sit her down and tell her the truth about your relationship, right away.”

Rena imagined the scene... Rosie, teary-eyed and frightened by the prospect of being shuttled from Grant’s house to hers. “Dr. Robson—”

“Fiona, please.”

After tomorrow, they’d never see her again, so Rena saw no reason to feign a friendly relationship. Except that the doctor might see her reluctance to agree as a character trait that might be damaging to Rosie. She decided to play nice.

“We’ve barely had a chance to adjust to the situation, ourselves. There hasn’t been time to discuss exactly how we’ll make it work. But I can assure you of one thing. We. Will. Make. It. Work.”

Robson returned to her chair. “Good. I’m relieved to hear that. Because from what I gathered through interviews with Rosie and studying her behavior, she’s handling things admirably. It’s possible she’ll adapt quickly and easily to being with you, to being home again.” She raised an eyebrow. “That said, she will most likely have some issues related to Barbara’s death. She told Rosie you two were gone, then stepped into your shoes. Now that Rosie knows you’re alive and well, and that Barbara lied to her... Well, all that is bound to cause a few problems.

“Don’t be overly concerned, though. As I said, she seems like a well-adjusted little girl, despite all she’s been through. So, much as I hate to repeat myself, if you can’t pull off the whole together again thing, tell her. Tell her now. She won’t be happy, but she’ll adapt. She’s a resilient kid.”

“Tell her?” Grant all but shouted. “Out of the question! She’s just a little girl! A little girl who’s been through more these past few years than most adults go through in a lifetime. Life has made too many demands on her already. Dealing with the breakup of her parents...” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not going to happen. She needs to know she can count on us.” He glanced over at Rena. “We’re in this for the long haul, right?”

Rena searched his face and saw how much he needed her to say yes. And so she did.

Facing Robson, she said, “We’re not so naïve that we think it’ll be a cakewalk, but we have the best incentive in the world to make the marriage work—Rosie.”

It did her heart good to hear Grant’s relieved sigh.

“You know,” Robson said, “I agree with Manuel. I think you guys are going to do fine, just fine.”

With that, she put on her glasses and picked up the letter. Rena didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but she reached for Grant’s hand. He took it, gave it a slight squeeze, and held it against his chest.

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