Chapter Eleven-Home Again

It was a few days later and the girls were finally returning home-with their entire family accompanying them. They headed inside the apartment and Mary stood by the door, taking in her surroundings. Home had always been her sanctuary, but it was surreal returning after what had happened. The apartment was cleaned and on the outside everything appeared normal, but to Mary they were anything but. She didn't want to sound dramatic, but everything felt different now and she wasn't sure if they would ever again be the same.

She stood by the door, silently watching her family fill the space that had been the backdrop of some of the happiest times of her life. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience, and then a very familiar feeling took over. She was staring at the entraceway into the living room and all she could see was her family in front of her. Everything else around her seemed to fade away into darkness, as if it didn't exist. She started swallowing steadily, as if she were eating a meal, but nothing was in her mouth at all.

She chewed her lips as she contiued walking, still in a trance like state, but appearing normal to those around her. The spell was over within a minute or two, but when it was over, she found herself sitting on the sofa and didn't remember moving from the door to the sofa. She looked around, wondering if anyone saw what happened, and feeling angry and embarassed at herself for not having better control over her own body. She bowed her head and started biting her nails, a habit that started in early childhood and continued to accompany her on her life's journey.

As she devoured her thumb, she felt someone sitting beside her. She looked over at saw Bobby, but said nothing, not wanting to discuss what happened. She could tell by looking at him he knew, but she hoped he wouldn't say anything.

"I...I'm going to go lay down," Mary said, rising from her seat and making her way into her room.

As Bobby watched her walk off, he was suddenly confronted by Jasmine, her youngest sister. She was wearing a sunny yellow dress and clutching Sara, her favorite doll. The doll was an exact replica of the little girl herself, a gift from Mary. The doll was fashioned in a white summer dress with a jellybean pattern, also custom ordered by Mary.

"Hi," the little girl said, looking at him solomnly.

"Hi, Jasmine," Bobby said. "it's nice to see you again. I...like your doll. She looks just like you."

"Sissy gave her to me. She said she had the doll made just for me. She even looks like me-see?" Jasmine said, holding the doll's face to hers.

"Yes, she does look like you-she's very pretty," Bobby agreed. He looked at the doll's dress and gently fingered the material. "this is an interesting outfit. I don't think I've ever seen a doll's dress with jellybeans on it."

"Sissy had it made just for me. It has jellybeans on it because her special name for me is 'jellybean'."

"Why does she call you jellybean?"

"She says jellybeans are little and sweet like me and because there's a "j" and "b" in jellybean and the letters of my first and middle name are "j" and "b". My full name is Jasmine Beatrice Mayfield."

"That's a very pretty name. Beatrice is an old name-is it in honor of someone in your family?"

Jasmine nodded. "Mommy's grandma's name was Beatrice, but she before I was born. Did you know Jasmine means 'gift from God'?"

"No, no I didn't."

"Sissy told me jasmine flowers are 'the queen of flowers.' Dee Dee wanted to name me after Princess Jasmine and mommy thinks the flowers and oil are sweet and pretty-like me. She likes to rub jasmine oil on her body and it smells really good. Daddy told me jasmine flowers release their smell at night after the sun has set, especially when the moon is going to be full. He said when people think of the smell, they think of a calm, happy night and that's why they named me Jasmine."

"That's really nice, Jasmine. It sounds like your family really loves you."

"Yeah," Jasmine agreed, hugging her doll close and kissing the top of her head. "I named my doll Sara after Sara Crewe in 'A Little Princess', which is one of my favorite stories. My other favorite story is 'The Secret Garden', which is about a little girl named Mary who goes to live with her uncle and finds a garden nobody plays in anymore. I asked Sissy if she was named after Mary Lennox, but she said no. She said she was named after Daddy's mommy. Daddy's mommy died when he was a little boy."

"That must have been really sad for your daddy, losing his mommy at such a young age. Was he your age when she passed away?"

"Umm, no...he was younger, like five or six I think, maybe four," Jasmine said, furrowing her brow as she tried to remember. Bobby couldn't help but smile, not only at Jasmine's adorable nature, but at the fact that Mary had given her the very same facial expression, albeit for different reasons.

Bobby opened his mouth to ask Jasmine another question, but she beat him to it. "Detective Goren...what...what happened to my sissy? She and Mommy and Daddy told me she fell off her bicycle, but I don't believe it. See, when I was little I fell off my bike too and I didn't look like her."

Bobby felt a knot form in his stomach as he thought of what to say to her. As much as he valued honesty and felt she deserved to hear the truth, he didn't want to frighten her or overstep his bounds. As intelligent as Jasmine was, she was still just a little girl and he didn't want to do or say anything that could mar her idyllic childhood. He looked at Jasmine, who was watching him expectantly, her dark eyes boring into his as she awaited his answer. Finally, Bobby cleared his throat and spoke, hoping what he said was indeed correct.

"Jasmine...your sister did did get hurt, but it wasn't an accident. She...someone hurt her."

"Why? Why would someone want to hurt my sister?" Jasmine demanded, stunned at this news because the idea of anyone hurting her family had never crossed her mind.

"This person just isn't a very nice man. He likes to hurt other people because it makes him feel better about himself, but your sister was brave. She stood up to him and..."

"Kicked his butt?" Jasmine asked, a little smile creeping onto her face.

"Exactly," Bobby said, smiling back. "as banged up and bruised as your sister looks, he looks even worse."

"Good!" Jasmine said, looking satisfied. "but who was this person? Did Sissy know him?"

"Yes, your sister does know him: in fact, your whole family does. Have you...have you spent a lot of time with Stacee's husband Mike?"

"Yes, I've seen him a couple of times, but I don't like him. He's mean," Jasmine said firmly, her nose crinkling as she thought of Mike.

"Why do you think he's mean?" Bobby asked.

"Stacee and Mike came to my house for dinner last year for Thanksgiving, and I had made decorations for the house and the table. I made a biiiiig," Jasmine stretched out her arms to show the approximate size, "turkey out of cardboard and paper and paint and stuff to put in the middle of the table. I worked really, really hard on that turkey and everyone said it looked cool except Mike. He said it looked stupid and that grown ups shouldn't have to pretend to like crap kids make. I was upset and started crying and Sissy got reeeeeally upset.

She got out of her chair, grabbed him by the neck, dragged him into the kitchen, and started screaming at him. She said a whole bunch of words I'm not allowed to say because I'm a kid and also said if he was ever mean to me again he could join the turkey that was in the oven. Then he started saying bad things to her...well, they were both screaming bad things at each other at the same time and it was really hard to understand them because when you talk at the same time as someone else you both sound alike. Then everybody heard a loud 'BANG!' and when we went into the kitchen, we saw that Sissy had hit him in the head with one of Mommy's frying pans!"

A gleeful smile spread across Jasmine's face as she continued talking. "the pan wasn't hot yet, but mommy had cranberries in it and they went everywhere! He was icky, sticky, and messy and when Daddy came back in the house and Sissy told him what happened, he grabbed Mike by the neck and dragged him out of the house. I heard more yelling and when Daddy came back inside, he told Stacee Mike wasn't allowed at our house anymore."

"Wow Jasmine. That was...interesting," Bobby said, chuckling at the image of Mary weilding a pan of cranberries at her unscrupulous in-law. He found himself wishing he had been there to witness the event.

"I think that story is funny, but Sissy doesn't like it when I tell it to people. I told all my friends when I went back to school and Sissy said she didn't want anyone else to hear it. Why? I think it's funny," Jasmine said, looking genuinely confused.

"I guess your sister just doesn't like to be the center of attention," Bobby said. "some people don't like to hear stories about themselves. I imagine your sister would rather hear stories about you."

Before Jasmine could respond, Carolyn walked over to them. "Jazz, honey, guess who's here?"

"Who?" Jasmine asked, looking excited at the prospect of visitors.

"Amber, Dylan, and Phoebe," Carolyn said. She giggled as Jasmine looked around, her hair whipping about in her excitement. "wherewherewherewherewhere?" she shrieked, her eyes dancing with happy anticipation.

"They just came through the door with their mommy and daddy. Why don't you and Sara go over and say hello?" Carolyn suggested.

"Okay. Bye Bobby!" Jasmine exclaimed before scurrying off.

"I'm sorry if she was talking your ear off," Carolyn said to Bobby as she sat down.

"It's quite alright, Mrs. Mayfield. I enjoyed talking to Jasmine. She's...very bright."

"She really is something," Carolyn agreed. "I was forty-eight when she was born and never thought I would have a baby at that stage in my life, but she has been such a blessing. We have always been a happy family, but she has added so much more to our home. I love all of my girls, but Jazz is so...special."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Was Mary like her at that age?"

"Mary was a shyer, more reserved child, but she was just as bright. From the time she was little, her favorite passtime was to lock herself in her room or the study with her nose in a book. In fact, when she was misbehaving, her father would threaten to take away her books and make her watch television. It worked everytime."

Bobby laughed. "Who are Amber, Dylan, and Phoebe? Are their parents friends of the family?"

"When Mary started college she decided she wanted a part-time job so she could earn her own disposable income, as well as gain employment experience independant of the family business. She posted a resume on the university's website and within a few weeks she received an offer from a family on Park Avenue. Dr. Paul Williamson and his wife Khloe had just welcomed their first child, Amber, and needed help when their nanny was off. Mary accepted and began working part time for the family during the school year and full time during the summer. She worked for them for four years, but stopped after graduating college.

She said she wanted to take time off so she could focus on her master's, but agreed to work for the family again when Khloe announced her second pregnancy. Mary continued working for the family, but resigned once she earned her master's so she could come work for her father and me. After Phoebe was born two years ago, Mary agreed to work for them again, but only occassionally. She works so hard for the family business and doesn't want to spread herself too thin, since too much stress exaserbates her already precarious health."

Carolyn looked over her shoulder and smiled at Dr. and Mrs. Williamson as they entered the apartment. She then looked back at Bobby, who knew what she was going to say. "Detective Goren, I hate to cut our conversation short, but..."

"It's alright, Mrs. Mayfield, we'll talk later," Bobby said. As Carolyn rose from her seat, Bobby suddenly stopped her. "one last question, Mrs. Mayfield...how long have you and the General been married."

"Eighteen years," Carolyn said with a smile. "Steve and I celebrated our anniversary a few weeks ago-and please, call me Carolyn."

Bobby nodded and Carolyn walked towards the well groomed, polished couple who entered the apartment with their three children. As the children scurried off to play, Bobby walked towards Mary's bedroom. He knocked on the door and waited for her consent before opening the door. He entered her room and looked around. True to nature, her bedroom was dark, cozy, and uniquely hers.

The walls and furniture were black and placed against the center wall was a king sized canope bed. The headboard was made of silver aluminum and lined with dark purple fabric, as were the edges. There were several drawers on the sides of the bed, which blended in perfectly and were un noticable from a distance. A sheer black curtain enclosed the bed, providing additional privacy. A black and toffee knit patterned rug with a matching toffee boarder was placed in front of the bed and took up most of the floor, which was made of black marble.

Her dresser mirror and drawer handles were also silver aluminum and two ivory armchairs were placed on the right hand wall. She had a nightstand on each side of her bed and one had a marble lamp and a tall, color coordinated candle beside it and the other had two silver candle holders with a candle in each. A large window was to the left of Mary's bed, but the black and purple curtains were drawn. There was a small ivory loveseat beside the window with matching throw pillows and a flat screen television on the wall. As unique as this room was, there were other elements that made this room very obviously Mary's.

The first were two china cabinets, one of which was filled with crystal and swaroski crystal knicknacks. Mary was also fond of angels and anything by Precious Moments. The most prevalent items in her cabinet, however, were penguins, seals, and dolphins, which were her favorite animals. The other housed her doll collection. When Mary was a young girl, she developed a love for dolls and even as an adult she had a special affinity for them.

Her child and porceline friends were placed neatly in their glass enclosed home, displayed proudly for all to see and admire. Pictures of her loved ones also graced her walls and framed representations of the people she held dearly also graced her nightstands and dresser. Bookshelves were on every wall of the room, placed wherever room was available. In addition to several books, the shelves were also home to more knicknacks, framed photos, and her stuffe penguin, seal, and dolphin collection. Knowing her love of those animals, penguins in particular, her loved ones made it a habit to bestow befitting gifts upon her.

Bobby approached the bed and slowly pulled back the curtain, where he found Mary curled onto the comforter, holding onto one of her pillows. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to look at him. Her eyes were red and the look on her face made it clear she was embarassed by her emotional state.

"Mary...Dr. and Mrs. Williamson are here to see you," he said quietly.

"I...I'll be out in a minute, thank you," she murmured, turning her back so she was no longer facing him.

Bobby remained beside her and she continued talking, as if a floodgate had been unlocked.

"I...I haven't had a seizure in years...not since college. I had them pretty frequently when I was a child, but then they subsided during adolescence. I went years without having one, but once college began...I couldn't drive for a while because of it. The Mayfields had to send a car for me when I watched their children. Once I graduated I...they stopped for a few years and I thought they were gone for good...until now."

"Just because you had one seizure today doesn't mean you'll have them everyday," Bobby said. "coming back here was a big deal given what happened to you, so it makes sense you were...rattled. I know it's difficult to believe now, but you will get through this. You have an amazing, supportive circle of family and friends and that makes a difference. You're a strong woman, Mary, don't forget that."

It was at that moment they heard a loud commotion from the living room. Mary and Bobby exchanged glances and exited the bedroom, wondering what was happening. When they entered the living room they saw a well dressed African American man holding a briefcase. Bobby recognized him as Ron Carver, New York City's ADA, but Mary didn't know who he was. Ron had left his position a few years ago to work elsewhere, but recently returned, having missed his former place of employment, his colleagues.

"For the love of fucking God, is this really necessary now?" Stephen demanded, his eyes dark and widened, the vein on his neck doubled in size. He was gesturing violently and seemed within seconds of ripping Ron into shreads. "my daughter has been through a terrible ordeal and she just returned home! Are you that incapable of doing your job you have to harass a victim to do it? Aren't the medical records and police report sufficient, or is everyone as incompetent as you? I want to talk to the District Attorney! Put him on the phone this instant so that I..."

"Dad, stop, that is enough!" Mary said, looking mortified, but not surprised by her father's ranting.

"Hello, you must be the assistant district attorney," she said, extending her hand to him.

"My name is Ron Carver and I will be handling the case against Mr. Alden. It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Mayfield. I'm sorry for what happened to you, but I promise you I will everything I can to put him where he belongs."

"'Everything you can'," Stephen repeated, looking at Carver with contempt. "so what you're saying is, you'll 'try'? You'll 'do your best' to prosecute the monster who hurt my baby? Why don't you jsut take it a step further and suggest a game of rock, paper, scissors with his defense lawyer and whoever wins two out of three determines his fate? I don't want anything to do with you, nor do I want you speaking to my baby!

I want a competent individual handling my daughter's case. 'Mr. Alden' deserves to be raked through hot coals before enjoying a few dunks into hot oil-no, wait, he deserves to have a certain part of his anatomy ripped from his useless, pathetic body and shoved down his throat. He..."

"Stephen Joel Mayfield, that is quite enough!" Carolyn hissed, giving her husband a well practiced glare. She turned her attention to Carver, who looked surprisingly calm despite what he just witnessed. "I am so sorry for my husband's outburst. I feel confident in your ability to prosecute our daughter's case. I'm certain you will bring Mr. Alden to justice and give him what he deserves."

"Thank you Mrs. Mayfield," Carver said, relieved the victim had at least one sane, rational parent. "I was hoping to speak to Mary alone, to hear her version of events. Do you think you could answer a few questions, Ms. Mayfield?" he asked, looking at Mary.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Carver. Do you want me to come to the station?" Mary asked.

"No, that's alright, we can speak here if you would prefer. Is there a place we can speak privately?"

"Yes, we can go to the study," Mary replied. She turned and walked towards the room with Carver following her lead. They both sensed a presence presence behind them and weren't surprised to find The General in close pursuit.

"Daddy, I will be fine. I'm not made of glass," Mary said, giving her father a look before leading Carver into the office. Stephen remained at the door until Carolyn found him and dragged him back to the living room.