Chapter 28- Deal or No Deal
I was relieved to see that she hadn't fled in my absence. I took a seat next to her and she tensed slightly. I knew I would have to finesse my tone just a bit to put her at ease, so I spoke slowly and softly. "Thank you for staying to talk with me, Jocelyn." I smiled slightly. I didn't want to seem overly friendly least it be misinterpreted as a hard sell. "I wanted to see if we could still come to some sort of agreement so you can both get what you need, but more importantly your daughter gets what she needs. It seems it might be easier if you aren't face to face."
"It always has been." She scoffed. "We mostly communicate through lawyers or text messages. And now messengers."
I chuckled, but quickly got down to business. "Jocelyn, I have been doing this for awhile and I would like to think that I am a fairly good observer of human behavior. Would I be wrong to say that you are just a little desperate for this deal?"
She looked up at me shocked as though I had used telepathy. If you counted nonverbal cues as mind reading, then I guess I did. She seemed hesitant, but leaned in a little closer and nervously said, "I know you work for Leonard and you must be on leave because you aren't in uniform. But are you still working…in an official capacity?"
I was a little confused and muttered, "I am always on duty in a sense, but I do not work for McCoy. That little bit is what allows me to be impartial and kick him out of his own sickbay if I have to. But if you are asking about the patient/doctor privacy privilege, you are covered. I can't tell him anything you say if you don't want me to." Usually the only time people asked about that was if they were hiding something either really big or really shameful and I could almost bet I knew what it was based on her demographics.
She played with her hair nervously and hurriedly spat out, "I have to take Joanna and leave, but I need credits." It was almost too predictable and I didn't make her say it; I just left it as an unspoken understanding that I knew what she was getting at, and I did. When one thinks of a battered wife, usually people of low socioeconomic status come to mind because they were usually the most visible. However, a shockingly high percentage of wealthy women often suffered in silence because they were beholden to their husbands who controlled access to the money, effectively preventing them from escaping. They quietly covered their bruises with expensive makeup and sought medical attention using aliases or doctors who would make house calls if they were paid under the table. After all, they had appearances to keep up and nothing talked louder than money.
I had to strike the right balance between concern and pity. "How long has this been going on?" I asked quietly.
"Clay lost his job at the hospital when he operated on a poor young man while he was drunk. It was far from the first time he done it, but this time the boy died and the hospital only fired him because he did such a hack job the family threatened to sue them out of business. That was about a year ago and he swore that he was so good any hospital would be glad to hire him, except word got around and no one wants someone like that fixin' people. It started when he was fired, but it was only sometimes. Now it is almost every day." She lowered her head and stifled a sob. I patiently waited until she was able to go on. "It was just me, but he has started in on Jo for making too much noise when she plays outside or for crying when he yells at her. I have to get out."
"Yes you do." I agreed in a supportive yet firm tone. "For your own safety and that of Jo because you know that it will only get worse even if he says he is sorry and promises never to do it again. Do you have anywhere to go?"
"I have a sister in Phoenix that will let us stay with her until I can get back on my feet." She replied using the napkin that her late rested on to dab at her eyes under her sunglasses. Now I understood the need for a pair that covered most of her face. I also knew why she wanted to be in a public place just in case Clay found her.
If rule number one was to never take sides, rule number two was never get personally involved with any one client. However, she was desperate enough to be honest with a person she barely knew only because she felt her very life was in danger. How could I turn my back on that?
"Then you have to go. Today." I emphasized. "Because you realize that this is about more than just you. Jo is young and is still forming her conceptualization of how the world works, right now she is getting a very wrong message about the relationship between men and women. She is seeing that women are weak and manipulate others to get what they need. She thinks that men have a right to hurt them because they have the credits that buy flashy things. Your leaving will go a long way in showing her that the situation is not acceptable, but she needs a male figure in her life too."
"I don't need his help raising her." She defended.
"You could do it on your own, but I could give you mountains of research that time and again points to the dire importance of fathers to the healthy development of girls. Girls who have supportive fathers are less likely to suffer from self-esteem and body image issues, they are more likely to be engaged in healthy activities like sports or other competitive ventures, academically they do better, and they are less likely to engage in risky sexual behaviors." I raised my eyebrows. "Need I go on? Fathers are what girls use to form an idea about what a man is. Now which makes for a more positive model of a male: a woman, Clay, or a Starfleet Officer who may be flawed but loves his daughter more than life itself?"
She shook her head and gave a sad smile. "He always did lover her more than anyone, including me."
"It sounds like things have been extremely hard and acrimonious between you, but let's just call a spade a spade here. You were planning on using her as a trump card to get him to comply because even you know that is the one thing he could never say no to. That tells me that you have no real objection to his having contact with her, otherwise you would have never made the offer no matter what. You know as well as I do that this push and pull is not good for her. Whatever you do, you must be consistent. Inconsistency causes neuroticism or worse, antisocial behavior and she will wind up in my office one screwed up adult."
I was distracted by a shadow and turned slightly to see McCoy hovering by a window, squinting between sips from his beer bottle. I knew he was nervous, but trying to glean information by reading my facial expressions was cheating and I silently told him to shoo. He took a step backwards, but I knew he only went far enough so I could no longer see him.
"I will make a deal with you that is a win-win." I declared again focusing on her. "I will contact Starfleet legal and instruct them to transfer enough credits to you from my account for you to leave and I will also provide a stipend that lasts no longer than 6 months, but here are my conditions: 1) you get Jo and leave right now. I will make accommodations for you for tonight, but tomorrow you are out on the first shuttle to Phoenix. 2) You will have absolutely no contact with Clay in any way, shape, or form and you will get a restraining order against him first thing when you get there. 3) You will agree to rescind your complaint against McCoy and restore full parental rights to him including visitation. 4) You waive the right to all future legal actions against McCoy unless the complaint is criminal. 5) There will be no verbal agreements and the payment will not be made until this is all documented by Starfleet legal, signed, notarized, and returned. 6) You will seek gainful employment or begin work toward a degree because I hope you see by now that you can't let others live your life for you and Jo needs to know that independence is an option. Failure on any of these terms will result in immediate cessation of payments. Do you agree?"
She licked her red lips and sighed. It was a hard bargain for her; I was stripping her of her trump card and making her live a life to which she was unaccustomed, but you had to get a few bumps and scrapes to know that you had hit bottom, and it was my experience that it just made the view from the top that much sweeter. "Look, I understand if you need time to think about it." I said getting up.
"Wait." She instructed reaching for the hem of my shirt. "I really have no other option. I know Leonard will want to see Jo, but I don't want him to know. If he ever was good at anything it was knowing when an accident wasn't really an accident if you know what I mean."
I sat uneasily in my seat. "Does she have any visible marks on her?"
She nodded her head. "She has some bruises on her arms and one on her chin."
I thought back to all the tricks I used and cursed the hot Georgia summer that made wearing a long sleeved shirt ridiculous bordering on suicidal. Make-up at her age was out of the question. "I can't condone lying to him, but there is no denying that if he found out he would hunt Clay down and viciously murder him." I stated trying to keep my face neutral just in case McCoy was still spying. "But in the end it doesn't matter what you or I tell him, what will Jo do? Do you think she would mention it spontaneously?"
"No, but if he asked her about it she wouldn't lie. She never could lie to him." She frowned. "It seems to be a problem they both have. Leonard is no saint, but he never was one to flatter or spare anyone the truth no matter how uncomfortable it was."
I sighed. It was a terrible dilemma. "The only way I can see around this is to simply make him agree not to seek revenge. Once he makes a promise he will keep it no matter how mad it makes him. I will just tell him it is a condition of his seeing Jo. To be honest you have made some big concessions, the least he can do is make some himself and meet you half way. If I get him to agree to no contact with Clay, Jo won't be forced to lie." She agreed and I exchanged contact information with her. "I will let you know where you are staying tonight and I will have legal send you the documents ASAP. If I don't see you again, good luck on your new life in Phoenix."
She paused for a moment and swallowed. "If not for Leonard, I'm not sure why you are doing this, but I thank you anyway."
"Does it matter why?" I asked rhetorically. "The point is you are both out of the quicksand by an option neither of you could see, so my job here is done. The best thanks you can give me is by succeeding and I will be watching."
I had my reasons. The truth was, I had been pulled out of the quicksand myself by others when I was in trouble and it was now time for me to pay it forward. I had never met Jo, but from what I heard about her I couldn't help but see myself at that age. I didn't want her to face the same life I did and I would have given anything if someone would have offered my mother a way out. Those were my reasons for breaking the rules, but neither she nor McCoy would ever know.
I went back inside to see McCoy slouched in a booth where he had a clear view of where we were sitting. Three empty bottles sat on the table and I wondered how many more had been cleared away. He looked anxiously at me when I sat down. "Ok, McCoy." I began slowly folding my hands in front of me on the table. "The only thing you have to agree to is to not have any contact whatsoever with Clay. If you can do that, you are once again 100% legally a father and you can see your little girl tonight."
A momentary flash of hope sparked in his eyes, but it was quickly extinguished by a suspicious squint. "Why do I need to agree to that?" Sometimes he was too smart for his own good and the beer didn't slow his cognitive skills as much as I had hoped.
"Either you do or you don't." I stated emphatically. "She had to make some blind concessions as well."
I could all but see his mind racing with any number of scenarios as to why such a stipulation would be required; and when it came to catastrophic thinking, no one was more creative than him. Even the most remote, farfetched possibility was considered. It was almost as wondrous as Jim's ability to make improbable events actually happen. I was just glad their tendencies didn't seem linked in any way as for Jim to accidently conjure up McCoy's wild speculations. The universe would be full of far more danger, death, and disease than it currently was and random freak accidents would become commonplace.
After a long deliberation, he cautiously agreed. "Let me see your hands." I smiled. "I want to make sure you aren't crossing your fingers. Put them on the table and swear again."
He gave me a disdainful look and let his hands fall heavily on the table with his fingers spread out. "I promise." He growled.
"Pinky swear?" I laughed.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He scowled. "Want me to spit into my hand and shake on it?"
"I was actually thinking more along the lines of a blood oath, but those hands are pretty important. Better keep them in working order." I admitted. "But I have some work to do and I am guessing you have had a few too many to drive home. Give me the keys." He began to protest, but I cut him off. "Friends don't let friends drive drunk. Now hand them over or I will fish them out of your pocket myself." At first he looked amused, but grumbled something about nagging harpies and public gropings and reluctantly plopped the warm metal with a sunflower keychain into my hand.
He was mostly quiet on the way home, slumped in his seat and staring out the window at nothing in particular. Maybe he was sleepy from the alcohol or maybe he was just trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings of getting his daughter back, but the silence was comfortable. Even when we arrived at his sister's house too late for dinner, he was silent except for the way he draped his arm across my shoulders as we walked up the steps. It was simple, yet spoke of a casual closeness we now shared. If I was in his inner circle before, I was now at ground zero.
