Knocking. Harder knocking.
Sharon could hear it. The noise jarring her from her slumber. The plan was that she was going to sleep in today and let Rusty stay home from school after such a tough day for him the day before. They were going to spend the day together doing whatever he wanted to do, even if it meant visiting the beach, which was never too friendly to her pale skin. "Coming." She calls out, picking up the pink silk robe that hangs on the back of her bedroom door and wrapping it around her thin frame, tying the sash around her hips. "Coming." She calls again, racing the short distance to her front door. She looks through the peep hole before pulling it open, "Cynthia, is something wrong?"
"Great news, Rusty's grandparents petitioned the court. He is out of your hair." The shorter dark skinned woman beams to her, "I went to his school, but they said he wasn't there. Why is that?"
She shakes her head, "His mother died. The funeral was yesterday. I spoke with his grandparents. His grandfather promised me that they wouldn't-"
"Well, Hannah Beck called her friend, Judge Samantha Crowley, and greenlighted the process." Cynthia looks around her, "I'm going to need him to pack his bag and-"
"Excuse me." Sharon puts a hand up, "You have arrived to my door at nine in the morning. This isn't a pet we are discussing here, but a teenage boy, whom is still asleep, as teenage boys are when given the opportunity. I let him stay home because of the funeral yesterday, which means he is grieving. Today is not the day to do this, please..."
"Then who better to be with than his grandparents-"
"Whom he only just met yesterday. His mother never went home after they kicked her out when she told them she was pregnant. They wanted nothing to do with her and Rusty wants nothing to do with them now."
"Captain, this is not up for discussion. A judge has given custody to-"
"I'm not saying that we won't follow the ruling of the judge. I'm saying to give him a day and come back tomorrow. That's all I'm asking. Give him a little time to properly gather and pack his things. Give him time to say his goodbyes." Her voice quiets some, "Please, Cynthia. He's been doing so well and he's been uprooted so many times. Just a little forewarning and time will help the process so much more."
"I'm not going." Rusty stands behind his foster mother, his arms folded.
"Rusty, we talked about this last night." Sharon answers softly, speaking over her shoulder without being able to actually look at him.
"Yeah, because if Daniel Dunn had a friend who was a judge, this would be a different story." He glares at his caseworker. When he's met with silence from the woman, "This is my life we're talking about here. Why aren't I a part of the conversation?"
"Rusty, you are a minor. Technically, you have no say in this." Cynthia looks to him, "We've gone over this many times. This shouldn't be anything new to you."
"I'm not going with you. If you have a problem with it, arrest me." He turns and slowly walks into the living room.
"I am tired of your attitude." Cynthia barks, the frustration with the boy painting her face.
"Please. I only request a few hours. Let me talk to him." Sharon tries again, softly, "Is there not a twenty-four to forty-eight hour window that must be set in place between notification of placement change and actual placement into another home?"
"A judge has already-"
"I don't care what Mrs. Beck's pocket judge rules, but there are laws that must be followed and I will not uproot this young man without even an hour notice. Not only is it disrespectful to myself and Rusty, but it is disrespectful to to the Department of Child and Family Services. You have now given us notification, but we have twenty-four hours. If you'd like to attempt to break the law, you can then talk to my attorney. His name is Gavin Baker." She quickly closes the door behind her, leaning against it and slumping slightly.
"I told you that was going to happen." Rusty says quietly, but loud enough for her to hear him.
Sharon finds herself staring at the floor slightly, "I'm calling Gavin."
"What does it matter now? She already had a judge approve it. Her friend. Pretty much a done deal." He shrugs, "You promised me they wouldn't. Promised me that my grandfather was nice and all that other bullshit. They still nice people now, Sharon?"
"I said I'm calling Gavin." She says again, attempting to keep herself from breaking down. She quickly moves to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and sitting on the edge of her bed. Sharon grips silk sheets, knowing her nails could possibly rip through them. She looks to the ceiling, the familiar feeling of burning tears in her eyes. Her chest heaves and she almost wants to throw something to release the frustration within her. She allows herself to let out a sob, quickly bringing her hands up to cover her mouth, hoping the young man in the other room doesn't hear her.
Rusty stands just outside her door, leaning his head down and listening to her. He finally pushes open her door, something he has just never done, and looks to her, "Sometimes, there are exceptions that must be made when it comes to crying in front of people." He swallows, looking to the shell of the woman he had grown to respect and even love. The young man moves closer to her, into this room that he rarely, if ever, ventured into before. He sits on the bed next to her, placing his hand on her back. "Hey, let's..." He shrugs, knowing it really wouldn't matter what he said, "This sucks."
"Yes, it does." Sharon manages to get out, leaning her head onto his shoulder ever so slightly.
"I can visit and stuff. I can write you letters...I can take pictures. We can Skype." He swallows, trying to keep his own emotions at bay, "This isn't goodbye, Sharon."
"Yes, it is. We've seen how far good will of the Becks has gotten us." She swallows, wiping her tear stained cheeks with the back of her hand, giving a closed mouth sad smile.
"It's too early for crying, alright? Let's...let's make this the best day we've ever had together. Let's go to the beach and build sandcastles or just stay in. We can watch those old movies like you like. I'll...I'll pack later or something." He tries. Rusty watches her with his peripheral vision, "I promise, It's going to be okay."
"I'll call Gavin. I can see if he can help. We can find another judge, one that they have no control over. We can find a judge that will want to hear your side of things." Sharon pauses, picking her head up and straightening her back, "No matter what that may be."
"I want to stay here."
"Okay." She nods, "Okay, I will call him and weigh our legal options." Sharon's phone begins to ring from her nightstand.
"You'd better get that. I'll go make breakfast." Rusty rises from the bed and walks toward the door. He pauses before exiting and moves back over to her, kissing her forehead, "Everything will be okay." He says again, finally exiting to the kitchen.
Sharon swallows, clearing her throat before swiping her finger over the phone, unable to see the name without her glasses, "This is Sharon Raydor." She answers as she brings the slim phone to her ear.
"Captain Raydor, this is Russell Beck." The jovial man's voice fills the other end of the line and causes Sharon to almost gasp.
"You promised me that you were going to wait. You promised me that we were going to do this on Rusty's terms."
"Captain, let me explain." He sits in his car, "Please."
"Make it quick. I have to help Rusty pack and we were...we are going to spend what time we have left together doing something worthwhile." Sharon swallows, lying back on her bed, feet dangling to the floor. She stares at the ceiling as he speaks, helping her concentration.
Russell nods, taking a deep breath, "I didn't want Hannah to call Sam Crowley. I wanted to give him time. I...We aren't ready to take care of a kid all of the time. I thought we could not only ease ourselves into it, but also him. I mean, she doesn't even know him. Neither do I, but..." He shrugs, "He reminds me so much of his mother. When she ran off it was-"
"You didn't kick her out?"
"Kick her out?" He answers, incredulously, "Oh God, no. I couldn't wait for a grandchild. It was a shock, sure, because she was so young. It would have been nice. Hannah and I were toying with the idea of another child at the time, but she was having some trouble. We were thirty-six and we were going to be grandparents."
Sharon listens intently, "Is there any way your wife would be willing to call Judge Crowley again and-"
"I'm sorry, Captain. Once my wife has her mind set to something, there's no going back." Russell sighs, "I don't want to just uproot him. I just want him to know he has grandparents that love him. Now, love him enough to take him back to our home."
"Do you not care at all of his wishes?" She shakes her head, "Does your wife not care?"
"She's tough. Strict. Believes in that whole 'children should be seen and not heard' crap. I mean, we don't even have a room ready for him, Captain."
"He's already threatened to run away once they drop him off." Sharon slowly sits up, "He's been through a great deal not only recently, but in the past. This is the longest he's been stable. He's on the honor roll at school, has friends, even on the chess team."
Russell smirks, "I love chess."
"If he must make the move to your home, would you be willing to allow him to stay at St. Joseph Academy?"
"I think it would be great, but my wife isn't going to like it. She doesn't believe in organized religion."
"Does your wife make all the calls when it comes to child rearing, Mr. Beck?" Sharon raises an eyebrow.
"For the most part, yeah."
"Maybe that's why Sharon ran away in the first place." She nods, going quiet for a moment, "I'm sorry to cut this short, but Rusty made breakfast. He's very good at it. I'd like to enjoy it."
"Of course. And Captain Raydor...I wish this could have been different."
"It could have, Mr. Beck. You could have opened your mouth." Sharon touches the screen of her phone to disconnect the call, standing, and walking over to her dresser to assess her appearance in the mirror. She sighs at her paleness, running her fingers through her messy thick hair, tucking it behind her ear. She turns her head slightly when she hears him call for her, "It will all be okay." She whispers to herself as she turns, going to him.
Russell climbs out of his Mercedes within the confines of his garage. He closes the door, walking up to the door connected to the rest of the house. "Hannah." He calls out.
"Upstairs." Hannah calls, hearing him. She stands in the guest bedroom, glancing over when she sees him standing in the doorway, "What do you think his favorite color is? Should I just do the room in camouflage? All boys like camouflage."
He shakes his head, "This is something you could have found out if you took your time with him."
"Yes, well, the longer he stays with that woman, the more attached he becomes, the harder it will be to bring him home."
"He's going to run away."
"No, I won't allow that." She shakes her head, looking around, "I will buy him frames for posters, tasteful ones, none with nude women. Possibly just go to the Pottery Barn and buy everything for a boy."
"This isn't some little kid. He's nearly an adult." Russell tries.
"I really don't care. We are his parents. He belongs here."
"No, we are his grandparents." He watches her, "Don't you even care about Sharon?"
"I stopped caring about her when she ran off." Hannah answers coldly, "I lost a daughter that day."
"You didn't have to lose her. You didn't want to look."
"She didn't want to be found even if we tried." She folds her arms, "Blue walls, something with the beach. It's California, boys like the beach. They like surfing, right?"
"You're going to do what you want anyway." Russell shakes his head, feeling tears come to his eyes. He and his daughter were always very close, when she left, it killed him how indifferent his wife was about the whole thing. He would have stayed up day and night looking for her, but she was like her mother in that sense. Once she had her mind to something, there was no turning back.
"If you're going to cry about her being dead, go elsewhere. I haven't the time for it. Rusty will be arriving today and this room must be ready for him." Hannah shakes her head.
"He isn't coming today. Cynthia, his case worker, called me. Told me there's a twenty-four hour waiting period between notification and removal from the home." He shakes his head, "Shouldn't be this way anyway."
"I'll call Sam and-"
"No, you aren't. He needs to pack. He needs to say his goodbyes. Leave him alone, Hannah. You'll have him soon enough." Russell knows he's going to have to be the one to protect Rusty from Hannah's wrath, just as he did with Sharron, "He's doing well at his school. He's going to stay there. I don't want to change everything."
"Oh? That little Catholic school?"
"Yes, that would be the one. He's happy. If you're going to force him to live here, you're going to let him continue to attend St. Joseph's."
Hannah begins to chuckle, almost bitterly, "Grown a pair, have we?"
"I'm putting my foot down on this, yes."
"We'll see."
"No, we won't see. That's the way it is. You ruined our little girl. Ruined everything she was, why do you think she was out with friends so damn much? Because she hated being here. I won't have that with Rusty." Russell glares at his wife.
Hannah begins to clap slowly, a smirk on her face, "That's cute."
"I'm not kidding. I won't let you drive another one of my children away." He moves away from her, going to his study. He closes the door behind himself. Russell takes a deep breath, this needs to be something he fights for. He was going to make his grandson happy, even if it meant being on bad terms with his wife.