My poor husband is dealing with a very unreasonable graduate student, with his administration bending over backwards to blame my husband and appease the student. It is very frustrating as it feels like this student is out to get my husband, and a lot of the other professors have had problems with this student, too. My husband didn't have the best semester in the spring due to all the issues with our daughter, and it feels that instead of anyone having any compassion on him for this, the administrator has already concluded my husband is at fault in everything.

Also, a family friend is struggling after her husband passed away. Her only child committed suicide many years ago, so she is all alone. We've talked on the phone and I just wrote her a card, but she is several states away so I can't be more hands-on, unfortunately.

But, in better news, next week my husband and I are going on our first vacation ever as just a couple (technically it is a working vacation as he is giving a poetry reading and a lecture, but that pays for our vacay, yay). Given that our oldest is 19, I'd say we are overdue.

33.

When we got back to the hotel, Rick came up to my room to talk. First we compared notes on our interrogations. He'd been dealing with much the same thing, but they had asked to see his service records. He'd refused, explaining he was willing to get the "he is currently in good standing" in the reserves letter, but not everything else and that it was irrelevant as when he was on active duty, he wasn't helping raise G.G. He'd more or less walked out on his interview, too, but it seemed like less drama was involved for his.

After we spend some time questioning between ourselves why the police here would have such an approach, we finally got around to discussing the whole situation with G.G. "What'll we do about G.G.?" I asked. "It's not just her being pregnant; it's everything."

"I hate to say this, Bill, but it's increasingly out of our hands. She doesn't want us calling the shots, doesn't want us involved at all. Those accusations she made . . . I think that was all too deliberate.

"I'm not saying she wanted to hurt us (but I'm not discounting that maybe she did), but she wanted us out of the picture. Perhaps she wanted to drive us away, get us to reject her. Her saying that about us and getting pregnant, too, is a royal F.U. She would always complain we were trying to control her and this is her 'Oh yeah? whatcha gonna do now?' She's raised the stakes and is waiting for us to fold."

Rick sighed, stood up from the hotel room's loveseat (where he was sitting while I sat on the side of my bed) and stretched. He walked around the small coffee table and then sat back down. "I love G.G. She's always been almost a sister to me, like you're almost my brother, but I'm tired of it all. We try so hard to help her and she sabotages it. And now the police try to treat us like we're child molesters? I'm just not sure it is worth the effort, you know? I've been a shit volunteer for the Vet group, and those guys and their families need the help and are so grateful over even the smallest things."

Rick's voice grew warm as he discussed his volunteer work. "Last week I was helping this family put up some shelves. It was just a small thing, but made a practical difference for them. And the week before that, I stayed with this vet who has a brain injury for an afternoon so the wife could go to her sister's baby shower. And last month we had this picnic for some kids that lost a parent, played all sorts of crazy games with them, had an epic water balloon fight, too. Those things are tangible things; they make a difference. We are putting so much effort into G.G. and not getting any results at all.

"Speaking of the wife who went to the shower, when she came back her husband was napping. I was going to go but then she began to talk. That happens sometimes. These caregivers get very lonely and we must seem like safe people to confide in.

"I guess the G.G. thing is making me think of them because the wife told me that before her husband's tour in Afghanistan that they had decided to try for a baby when he got back, but that was years ago. She knew if she ever wanted to have a baby it was pretty much now or never. She's given up any hope of her husband ever getting better and she said that having a baby seems irresponsible because she basically lives with a permanent child."

"Oh, that's so tough," I responded.

"It sure is," Rick replied. "I try not to give advice in these situations, just want to be a listening ear, you know, but I ended up telling her that her life shouldn't revolve solely around being her husband's caregiver, that it was okay to want things for herself, the things that other people have. I also reminded her that while it would sure be difficult to manage a baby and her husband, the baby would grow, get more independent, and eventually grow up.

"I have no idea what she'll do. She may be too practical to have a baby under these circumstances. I am guessing her husband can still get it up, and though technically he probably isn't mentally with it enough to consent, he clearly loves her, gave her a big hug when she left for the shower.

"Personally, I hope she goes for it. What disabled man wouldn't still want to be able to get it on with his pretty wife and give her a baby that she wants? Hell, it might be the one great thing he can still do for her.

"When I think about that situation . . . if anyone deserves to have a baby and have some happiness for herself, it is that woman. She ought to be able to make the choice that will make her happy, not have every bit of her life sucked up in being her husband's permanent caretaker.

"The same thing goes for us, too. We ought to be able to seek our own happiness, or at least be able to devote our time to productive things. You've had a shit year and the first moment it seems like things might be turning around for you, it's back to the G.G. show. Everything's been revolving around her."

"I know," I said, "but what else can I do? She's my sister."

"But to what end? What are we doing here, Bill? G.G. doesn't want us here and dealing with all this means I'm not helping people that can be helped. There is no way any of us should have her in our homes again, not if being alone with her gives her the opportunity to accuse us of more things.

"I know for a fact my parents won't take her back, which makes sense as they've got to think of my sister Emily. And that was before all these recent things, and now she's going to have a baby? How could it be any worse?"

I shrugged.

"Don't worry," Rick seemed anxious to reassure me, "I'm not going to bail and leave it all on your shoulders, but if at some point you want to walk away, I'll support you."

"I can't," I told him, "although I'd sure be easier if I could. I owe it to G.G., to my parents, to keep trying at least while she's a minor. I have to believe that there is still hope for her, that her life, that she herself, isn't irredeemable at sixteen."

"I understand." Rick sighed and then stood up. "I hope she can grow up at some point, but able to admit to how messed up everything is, actually be willing to accept help to try to work through everything, but I'm feeling pretty hopeless right now.

"I'm gonna go back to my room and watch some TV, try to get my mind off things. Tomorrow maybe we can call up Mr. McCowan and see what's going on with G.G., see if they'll let us see her soon. I can tell you one thing, I"m not consenting to being interrogated again, not in a million years. I've learned my lesson."

"Okay," I told him. Rick walked to the hotel room door, turned and gave me a little wave and after I murmured "goodbye" and he did the same, I was left alone in the room with my thoughts.

I flipped on the TV, settled down on the loveseat and removed my phone with it's dark screen from my pocket, setting it down on the coffee table. I flipped through the limited channels. There wasn't anything I wanted to watch, but I'm not sure even if I could have picked any program that anything would have satisfied, although I wouldn't have minded watching the Shawshank Redemption just then.

I eventually settled for a local news broadcast as I liked listening to how people around here talked. The cadence and inflections were soothing. But as it didn't hold my attention, and eventually it occurred to me that I ought to see about those earlier texts, see if I had any messages that needed a response.

I found that most of the texts were from my stupid insurance company hounding me to join their "hinge health" program, get my annual flu shot, and download their new app. There were also a couple of texts from Rick, explaining how he'd left the meeting, asking me to call when I was done. But the one I read first and most eagerly, was one from Elizabeth Bennet, sent at around noon local time:

I hope your flight went well and you've had a good reunion with your sister. We're fine here, although it took Charlotte's genius to figure out how your TV worked. Saw that you were watching Shawshank. Great movie.

Jane wants to know if there is any chance you can attend the domestic violence hearing that's coming up. It's next week, on July 26th. She wants to call you as a witness, to you seeing Chuck in Charlotte's apartment complex parking lot, to Chuck hitting you without provocation, get your video of the whole call admitted.

I've told her I doubt you can be back so quick, and that her testimony, mine and Charlotte's should be more than enough. I want her to hire an attorney, not because I think there is any way that Chuck's going to be able to wriggle his way out of this one, but just because I think it would be good for her to have someone else in charge of all of this.

Oh, I sent you an email yesterday. I totally get it if you don't have time to read anything right now, but I'm mentioning it so if it ended up in your junk mail you can save it from being deleted by accident. When you do have time, I'd love to hear about how everything's going there.

Obviously, that text message merited a reply, but I still felt so confused and embarrassed about the G.G. situation that I really didn't feel up to telling her about it. I settled for writing:

The flight was fine, things are complicated here. I doubt I can make it back that soon.

I also provided the name and of an attorney who handled a mixture of criminal and civil cases, offered to pay the fee, explaining that she was expensive but I knew she was very good. She was partners with and married to the attorney who handled all the business contracts and had drafted my will, and she had helped us shut a former employee down who had stolen some equipment from our offices. I hoped rather than believed that Jane and Elizabeth would let me pay.

Finally, I concluded:

How is everything out there? I know Jane was planning on telling your parents everything, but that's when she was planning on going to stay with them for a while. Did she think the better of it after getting a reprieve from going there right away? Thinking of you all.

I sent the message, reviewed the other texts and then called up Elizabeth's email on my phone again. I skimmed until I found the paragraph I had been reading when we had reached the police station that morning, and this time read the whole paragraph before continuing on to complete the letter:

As for Caroline, I never liked her. From what I can gather from what you did not say about her and from Mary's conjectures and what little Jane has said (for she never wants to speak ill of anyone), Caroline is worse than I could have imagined. I'm sure you don't want to discuss any of that, but if you did I would want to listen and support you as a friend. You were so kind to try to help Jane as a friend when I think she was frankly presuming much considering you and she were acquaintances at most.

It is hard for me to understand why Jane didn't share things with me before. I understand about embarrassment, about not wanting to be vulnerable, but she is my dear, dear, sister, my closest friend in the world. I don't quite understand how she could have thought I would be anything less than supportive when I knew the truth.

But maybe that's the problem there; she thought it wouldn't be easy to get the truth out, that I'd be trying to salvage their relationship in the meantime. Lord knows I always praised Chuck highly. Jane had some boyfriends before that I didn't think too highly of, guys I felt were just wasting her time.

It is no secret that as much as Jane loves her job making floral bouquets, corsages, boutonnieres, grand arches and the like, that she isn't ambitious by nature. She always dreamed of being a wife and mother, being at home with the little ones, ideally full time.

So naturally I wasn't too encouraging when Jane would date some loser that couldn't or wouldn't hold down a job, or was working some dead-end job where he'd never be able to take care of a wife and children. She'd always say "I don't mind working, it's not a problem for me to keep working full time." But I knew that she didn't want to be a part-time mom, was never bored when she had her summer nanny jobs.. Not that there is anything wrong with working moms (I don't particularly want to stay home with babies myself), but it just wouldn't have been right for her.

Chuck was the first one I thought was marriage material, who could give her everything she wanted and more. But I never in a million years would have told Jane to pick a man who wouldn't treat her right, would rather have her marry a kind moocher than an abusive prick.

Anyway, I guess I've rambled on long enough. I just wanted to decisively clear the air, to tell you that I'm sorry. Everything you've done for us, you've earned a friend for life.

Charlotte's said she thinks you're interested in me, and I'll confess that your letter, when I read it again, kind of confirmed that vibe, if I'm not reading too much into it. Also, this morning I kind of thought we might have had a moment, too.

Right now the both of us are dealing with a lot, and the timing sucks. But just so you know, after the dust has settled, all the big things going on get sorted, etc., if I'm right and you don't think the better of it by then, I wouldn't mind getting to know you better.

I'm gonna make this easy on you. If you come back and ask me on a date, I'll go. But if friendship is all you want, that's okay, too.

There was nothing further after that save for her name, just "Elizabeth."

My feelings in reading those final three paragraphs were what you might expect. At first I was embarrassed, thought Elizabeth was about to let me down easily, then I began to feel a shred of hope, but all the while questioned whether there was yet room to hope. Even when I read "I wouldn't mind getting to know you better," I was half in hope and half in agony. Even those words might not mean what I thought. This disadvantage of the written word is the absence on tone of voice, expression, etc. It can be easy to misinterpret the true meaning at times.

But then, wonderful, merciful, kind Elizabeth, without me even asking, had agreed to a date. Oh, how happiness flooded through me then, and the strength of that happiness illuminated how miserable I had been only moments before. My mind was no longer filled with despair about G.G. It was still there, a thick fog that had subsumed everything, but I had been launched in a rocket through it to glimpse the moon and stars in the heavens.

A/N: It's been a depressing couple of chapters, but I hope the end of this chapter made up for it.