Not too much further to go, my friends. Enjoy.
Stef immediately called the prison back. After being passed through numerous individuals, she got her answer. No, Donald Jacob was neither sick nor injured. No, he was not being penalized for bad behavior. No, he had not run out of available points. He was not seeing his children this next month. Period. Full stop. None of these answers had come without prodding, and Stef had found her irritation growing with each monosyllabic answer. When the call neared it's completion, through clench teeth she managed a perfectly sunny, yet sarcastic tone. "Thank you so much for your time and for giving me the information I needed with the utmost courtesy and professionalism. I can see why you are a testament to all corrections officers everywhere." With that, she slammed down the phone into its cradle.
"Stef," Lena warned from her position at the table.
Ignoring her partner's tone, Stef picked up the phone and slammed it again. Stalking over to the table, she threw herself into one of the chairs. She managed to grit out a summary of the conversation to her lover before she lapsed into silence.
"Feel better?" asked Lena after a few minutes.
"No," grumbled Stef, settling her chin on her fist. "What the hell is going on with that man? Does he have any idea of what this is going to do to Callie and Jude? How they're going to feel?"
"He doesn't seem completely ignorant of their feelings," Lena began. "Not from what I've noticed in the visits. Have you?" She reached for Stef's hand, pulling it towards her and unclenching her fist one finger at a time.
"That's why I don't understand it." Stef blinked at her. "Do you think he might send us a letter or something? Maybe explaining what's going on?"
Shrugging, Lena said, "I don't know. I mean, he could call us too, or the kids for that matter. You said he didn't lose his privileges, right?"
"No, he hasn't," muttered Stef, staring at her fingers now squashed between Lena's hands. "He just…won't see them."
"Well, obviously something is going on," said Lena. "Unfortunately, there's not a lot we can do about it. Hopefully, he'll open up to us about what's going on. Sooner rather than later." She hesitated. "What do you think we should tell the children?"
Stef took a deep breath and looked at her. Callie had had a wonderful time at Brooke's slumber party. She talked about it so much that whenever she began a sentence with "Brooke", Brandon and Jesús groaned as if they were being tortured. After awhile, Jude joined them. Lena and Stef would have put a stop to it, but Callie, instead of taking offense, began giggling wildly when they did so, causing them to let the sibling antics continue. Jude had become even closer to his little friend Connor and they spent all their time either at their house or his. The children were happy. More than that, they were approaching ebullience. "We can't tell them," she said finally. "Not until we really know what's going on."
"Then what do we tell them?"
"We lie," said Stef bluntly. "When it gets closer to the day we'll just tell them he got sick. They can understand that and it won't push any panic buttons. Not yet."
Lena slowly released her hand. "I don't know…I don't really want to lie to them Stef. Are you really comfortable with that?"
"Yes," said Stef. "We lied to Brandon about Santa Claus. We even tried to lie to the twins about him to, and would have if they weren't already non-believers."
Jesús, in fact, had given Lena an incredulous look and moved towards her when Stef had been extolling the virtues of Santa their first Christmas in the Adams-Foster household. "Um, does Stef still believe in Santa?" he asked, in tones that expressed clearly that Stef might be mentally deficient in some way. "Cause he's-he's not really real."
There had been quick reassurances that yes, Stef knew there wasn't technically, a Santa Claus but that he was the spirit of the time.
"It's not the same," Lena argued. "That was just kind of, smudging the truth a little. Santa Claus is in the spirit of giving."
"Yeah. But he didn't get his non-corporeal butt to the mall to get Brandon Legos for Christmas either," said Stef. "We told B about the chimney, we set out cookies…we did the whole deal. We…lied. But it was a good lie. This is a good lie too."
Lena sighed. "If the kids find out the truth, they're going to feel betrayed."
"They're not going to find out," said Stef firmly. "We'll keep quiet and wait to see what Donald is up to. When we find out, then we can tell them what's going on." She took Lena's hand now. "This is better for them. They'll feel so hurt…so rejected if we tell them he doesn't want to see them. I can't do that to them now. Not when they're finally feeling safe and happy."
Lena sighed and kissed her fingers. "There's no perfect answer here, is there?"
Stef shook her head. "No, there's just different difficult choices. I think we're choosing the best one."
Lena nodded. "Okay."
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Callie and Jude were disappointed when Lena and Stef told them Donald was sick, but they got over it pretty quickly. Stef even caught what she though was a glimmer of relief in Jude's eyes. Stef knew that he wanted Connor to spend the night Saturday but had been unable to tell him that until they could reveal Donald's "illness". They decided to make him "get well" cards which Lena promised to send to their father. She also added a little note about why the children were told he was sick and how difficult for them it would be knowing that he didn't want to see them. The note, like Lena, was gentle but persuasive with an undercurrent of razor sharp steel that could cut deep. She didn't want Donald be defensive, but she could not let him hurt his children-their children without letting him know the consequences of his actions. She wasn't surprised, but she was a little disappointed when after several weeks, she still didn't receive a reply. When they received word that Donald wouldn't be seeing his children the following month, her disappointment deepened into dismay.
When Stef heard the news, her chin was notched and her eyes clearly showed her anger. This time they told the children that their dad had some kind of court issue that coincided with their visit and they'd unfortunately, have to wait for the next visit to see him.
The idea of a second lie was distinctly harder for Lena. Stef chose to become less communicative rather than more so, her desperation to protect the children plain. It had inevitably led to a fight, and though they'd become experts at communicating their feelings and were use to doing so in a whisper as not to worry the children, it degenerated into a couple of slammed doors. When they had both calmed down to regret their hastiness, they managed to find one another nearly simultaneously and make up. Kisses were exchanged at length and they stretched out of the couch; Stef lazily running her fingers through Lena's hair while her partner busied herself with the acres of smooth skin under her fingers.
"I'm sorry," Stef said finally, the quiet in the house broken by her voice. All the children were in bed and had been asleep for at least an hour.
"I'm sorry too," said Lena. "I guess I'm just really…thrown by this whole situation. I don't understand why he'd let his own children be hurt like that, after losing their mom…losing him…it's so cruel."
Stef struggled a moment. He anger towards Donald hadn't abated but she had been thinking through the situation deeply for the past couple of days. "I don't think his intention is to be cruel," she said slowly. "Even though that's clearly what the outcome would be. He's been…drowning. Every time I've seen him the waters have been rising and he's barely able to stay afloat. I think, I think maybe he's putting life preservers on the kids and hoping that they'll make it…that they'll survive without him."
"That's…a poetic way of putting it sweetheart," Lena drew away from her a little. "Are you saying you think he's going to commit suicide?"
Looking away, Stef shrugged. "Yes. I don't know. Maybe. It's his eyes Lena. He looks so lost. If he really loved his wife, and he seems to have, how can he ever forgive himself for killing her?"
"I don't know," Lena said as she lay her head over Stef's heart. "We should tell the prison though. Have him put on some kind of watch, shouldn't we?"
"I don't know if that will help," said Stef. "They might put him in a psych hold for a while but who knows how much that will help him. It might make him worse. It will definitely make him looker weaker to the other inmates."
Lena began tracing random patterns on Stef's skin. "We need to do something. If not for him, then for the kids."
"We will," Stef promised. An idea was germinating as she rubbed Lena's back in increasing circles. "We will."
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Callie and Jude took the news with a little more wariness than the last time.
"Why would they choose the time when Daddy has visiting time?" Callie asked. "That's just stupid."
"The prison isn't run on your dad's timeline," said Stef honestly. "They have their own times and ways of doing things and we aren't going to be able to change it."
"Unless there's egregious acts being committed against the prisoners," Lena interrupted. "Then we start petitions and make sure people are listening to our demands."
"My lovable hippie," said Stef, kissing her lover affectionately.
"My martinet of a cop," said Lena, leaning into the kiss.
"Hardly," Stef snorted. "Just because I believe in rules and-"
"Can we start a petition to see Daddy?" Callie interrupted, ignoring the kissing with practiced ease.
Stef gave Lena a look. "No honey, this is perfectly within acceptable forms of treatment at the-where your daddy is. It'll be fine sweetheart. We'll figure something out. I promise."
Callie scowled a little and slumped into her chair. "I want to see my daddy," she mumbled to the table.
"Are you sure he's okay?" asked Jude. "What if something happed and they don't tell us?"
"Can they do that?" Callie straightened.
"No," said Stef unequivocally. "You dad is fine kids. I'm going to call Lompoc and we'll figure this out. Okay?"
The Jacob children looked at their foster mothers, then one another. The continued silence from their father was worrisome enough but what clinched their unease was the fight Lena and Stef had had earlier that week. Stef and Lena hardly ever fought and they could tell from the looks on Jesús, Mariana, and Brandon's faces that it was not a regular occurrence. "Are you sure?" Callie asked, obviously wanting to believe them.
"I'm sure." Stef carefully did not look at Lena. She sure as hell wasn't going to let this continue anymore.
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Only two days into the new month, they got another call that Donald would not be receiving his children as visitors. After a brief yet vehement conversation with Lena, Stef made plans to drive to Lompoc. Not seeing any other solution, Lena agreed and Stef went upstairs to begin packing a small bag in case she had to stay overnight.
"What are you doing Mommy?" asked Mariana, gravely sucking on a popsicle from the doorway.
"I'm just-I'm going on a quick trip. For work," said Stef, putting a spare toothbrush inside her kit.
"What kinda work?" Mariana asked.
"My work."
Mariana frowned, "that doesn't make sense Mommy. You're not giving me enough information."
Stef sighed and lay her suitcase to the side. "You get more like Mama every day, did you know that?"
Mariana gave her a wide, ear-to-ear grin. "Thanks!" Sitting on the bed, Stef beckoned to her and Mariana clambered easily to her lap. "What's happening Mommy?" asked Mariana, looking at her mother with serious eyes.
"It's just some unfinished business I have sweets. Nothing more than that. Really," Stef assured her.
Raising an eyebrow, Mariana looked at her. "You and Mama aren't mad at each other anymore, are you?"
Comprehension flooded through Stef. "No honey, nothing like that. Mama and I had a little disagreement but that's all it was. No big deal."
Mariana's lip pushed out slightly. "Is a big deal," she insisted. "Me and Jesús and Brandon don't like it when you fight." She paused a moment to consider. "Callie and Jude neither."
Stef sighed as the little girl nestled into her. "It's okay that adults argue sometimes Mariana. You fight with your brothers. You fight with Callie. You fight with your friends sometimes too. The important thing is that an argument is not an excuse for name-calling and put-downs and you know that doesn't happen between Mama and me."
Nodding, Mariana met her eyes. "I know. Just sometimes I remember my old house and it's scary. I don't like when grown-ups fight."
"I know sweetheart," Stef kissed her head. Despite what she told Mariana, she did understand the difference. Adults held all the power and when they fought, it shifted dynamics in such a way that it could be serious for the little charges under their care. "But everything's fine now. I'm just going to be gone for a day – maybe two, then I'll be back. Maybe we can have a family game night or something, what do you think?"
The little girl squirmed off her lap. "That would be lots of fun. Can I ask Mama, can we have sundaes for dessert, can I choose the game, can we invite other people?" she asked in one breath.
"Yes, yes, maybe, no."
Mariana's face scrunched a little as she figured out which answer was for each question. Then she shrugged. "M'kay."
"Alright. Let me pack. I'll be downstairs in a minute," said Stef, giving her a pat to send her on her way.
Determination settled on her features. One way or the other, she was going to find out what was going on with Donald and deal with it.
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The ride to Lompoc was quiet without the children in the car. It was okay at first, it gave her some time to think about things, contemplate the upcoming conversation, debate various responses. But after awhile, the silence got to her. She turned on the radio, singing to the songs she knew, humming to those she didn't. Still, the car ride felt like it took forever.
When she arrived at the prison, she had to do some finagling with the guards to get through the building. But she had been a cop a long time and she knew exactly what to say. When the guard warned her that the prisoner might refuse to see her, she shook her head. "Tell him it's not a choice. He has to see me. It's an important matter involving his children."
Stef ended up having to wait several hours since they had to get him through the procedures for the visit and had been unprepared to do so. That was fine. She could do patient…sometimes. She filled her time by flipping through a magazine and a book she brought and randomly texting Lena. Lena not so gently reminded her that she was taking care of all five of their children right now and every time her phone beeped she got a "is that mom? What's she doing now? When is she going to be home?" from one or more of the kids. The implied message? Stop. It was driving her crazy. She stopped but then laughed when she got a message that read; bring lots of ice cream home. Then. Please. Clearly one of her children had managed to get Lena's phone away from her. This was confirmed when another message followed. If you bring lots of ice cream home, I'm letting the kids eat it and you're staying home with them until the sugar is out of their system. Stef laughed again, this exchange making her feel infinitely better…and a little homesick.
When Donald was brought to the visiting area, she sighed a little. He didn't look great, but he was alive and according to the guards, had not had any recent altercations. Donald shuffled to the table she was at, keeping his head down.
"Donald," she said firmly, willing him to look at her. "Donald," she repeated. He refused to look up. She sighed. "What are you doing Donald? Why are you doing this? Do you know how confused Callie and Jude are right now?"
Finally the man looked her with lost and hopeless eyes. "I-" he started. He licked his lips and tried again. "I-". He stopped again and this time tears clogged his voice. "I've just been figuring some stuff out. I needed to ask about some stuff. I needed…I need to do what's right for my kids."
Stef leaned forward on his elbows. "What does that mean, Donald?"
He closed his eyes, and she could see his whole body slump in on itself. He took a deep breath. "I want…I want to give up my parental rights. I want you and Lena to adopt my kids."
"What?" asked Stef, blinking at him.
"I've been talking to some other prisoners for awhile. A lot of them have kids in the foster system. They say it's pretty bad. One guy, his kids have lived in six different homes in five years. This other one, his little girl got abused by a foster brother. I don't want that to happen to Callie and Jude. I don't want that for them. The best case scenario is that I'll get out when Callie is fifteen and Jude is twelve. That's five years! That's like…a third of their childhood. It's not right." Finally he looked at her, his eyes now desperate as well as sorrowful. "You'll take them, right? You love them, I can tell you love them. Lena too. And mine love you, they do. I can see it on their faces. And they're so happy with you. They love living with you. They love your kids. They're actually happy. I didn't know if they were going to get to be happy again but they are and that's all I want for them. To live in a nice house with people that love them and all they have to worry about is getting their homework done and finishing their chores. That's all…that's all a kid should have to worry about." He looked at her, begging now. "You'll take them?" he repeated. "Please? They're good kids. You know they're good, right? Callie loves so fiercely and Jude's such a sweet boy. You love them, right?
Stef held up a hand, taking some breaths. "Wait. Just wait a minute Donald."
Donald stopped immediately, his face going white and slack as he waited for the refusal. "Please, please take them," he whispered, after a silent minute.
"Lena and I…we've talked about this," said Stef carefully. "We've talked it over carefully and we…we would be happy to adopt Jude and Callie. We do love them. They're part of our family now, no matter what."
Donald closed his eyes, tears bleeding from them. "Thank you, thank you," he whispered.
Stef shook her head a little. "Hold on. Please." Without thinking, she reached out and touched his arm.
"No touching the prisoners," barked one of the COs in close proximity.
Holding her hands up in supplication, Stef accepted the rebuke. She lowered them slowly, looking at the broken man with compassionate eyes. "Donald, do you understand what this means? You are giving up all rights to your children: medical decisions, schooling, everything. You will have no legal right to make any choices for them. Ever."
"I know," he gulped. "I've been talking to a lawyer these last couple months, one that specializes in child custody cases. I've asked his…everything. I understand what I'm doing." He licked his lips. "I trust you and Lena. I'm trusting you with them."
Stef moved nearly imperceptibly closer, lowering her voice. "But that's not the only thing. There's…Robert Quinn."
Sorrow left his face as anger filled it. "That man," he said distinctly, "is not her father. I am her father. He doesn't even know or care that she's alive."
"But he could-"
Donald shook his head. "I'm having my lawyer write it up. If the children are not adopted by you and Lena, I'm not giving up my parental rights to them. I raised Callie. I married her mother when she was seven months old. I'm considered her presumptive father. Robert can't have her."
"He might be-"
Shaking his head again, Donald interrupted her. "All I know about him is that he left my wife and she wanted nothing to do with him after that. She didn't seek him out or try to find him when Callie was born. That's enough for me. There's some reason she did that. Some reason she didn't want him near our daughter. I can at least do that for her. I can protect them at least a little." His voice had risen, causing some of the COs to raise eyebrows and look like they might move towards them.
"Okay," said Stef. "Okay." She indicated the COs with her eyes and Donald immediately settled down.
"If we do this, there's going to be a lot of paperwork to fill out."
Donald nodded.
"There's going to be some conditions too," Stef added, her voice and body language becoming deadly serious.
Now Donald looked worried. "What kind of conditions? I-I don't have much money to give you, all the money from the estate is going into a trust fund for the…" he winced, "for the victims." Before Stef could interrupt he went on. "You can get jobs here though. I've already looked into it. And any money I get I'll send to you guys."
"That's not what I'm talking about," said Stef. "I'm not worried about the money." She paused and corrected herself. "I mean, I am concerned about the money but Lena and I have talked about it. Budgeted. We can figure things out. No, what I mean is about you. Your behavior."
"What does that mean?" Donald's face rapidly shifted from concern, to defensiveness, to shame.
"I mean you will continue to see your kids. Every month. They need to see you."
Eyes dropping back to the table he shook his head. "They don't need to see me. They shouldn't be here. This is not place for any child to have to be."
"They do need to see you," Stef argued. "You are their father. They love you. Cutting them off won't just hurt you, it will hurt them."
He shrugged, trying to sound dismissive. "They'll get over it. It's better for them to start fresh."
"That is bullshit and you know it. They love coming to see you. No, this is not an ideal place to do it but they need that connection. If you refuse to see them, they'll feel rejected and that could cause…" she faltered, "serious harm." She wished Lena were there. Lena would be able to quote about half a dozen research articles that would support her. All she had was her heart. "I could never do that to my kids. They need to know how much they are loved. They need to know how much they matter to me."
Donald swallowed as he looked at her. "I'm no good for them. I'm just not a good parent. I love them. I'm their father, but I don't know how to parent them. Not without her."
The longing in his voice was so palpable that Stef felt tears rise into her eyes, unbidden. "The only thing they want is you. They don't care whether you're good enough. You're their father. And it's your responsibility, no matter how you feel, to think of them first, and I can guarantee that they want to see you."
Rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes, Donald finally nodded. "Okay," he said brokenly. "Okay. I'll see them."
Stef began to reach out to him again, then stopped herself and lowered her voice. "That means you have to be here to see them. You can't hurt yourself."
Donald looked at her, eyes wide. "I wasn't…that's not…" he stammered unconvincingly.
"Don't try to lie to me." Her voice was as stern as when dealing with her children after a particularly naughty affair. "I can see it. If you hurt yourself, they'd never forgive you or themselves."
Donald closed his eyes, the agony of the words laying upon him harder then the lash of a whip. "I don't want to hurt them," he whispered.
"Then be there for them. Be the man they can be proud of, even in a place like this." Stef was desperate to make him understand, to really hear what she was telling him.
He nodded, miserable by what he felt was a double condemnation but edged with a sense of hope. If he could be of any good to his children, maybe the days wouldn't pass so slowly. Maybe the guilt which hung so heavy on him would stop strangling him enough that he could at least try to be a better man, one not solely defined on a horrible accident.
Stef breathed in a deep sigh. "I need to talk to Lena about this, of course, but I know what her answer will be. You need to change your request to see the kids this month. Lena and I will bring them here to…to talk about all this."
Donald's breath caught as he thought of seeing his children again, but knowing it would be the one where he could wholly say that they were his children. Tears stood in his eyes as he looked at Stef and nodded. "Okay."
A feeling of unbelievable closeness hung between them now and when the time came to say goodbye, and it was permitted for visitors to touch the prisoners, Stef gave him a tight hug in goodbye. After a moment, she felt his arms reach around and hug her back, tight at first like a drowning man, then receding into something infinitely more gentle.
Stef looked straight into his eyes. "See you next time."