“No,” Logan said. “I’m not following the rules. I’m staying here.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman said primly. “But that answer is not acceptable. You are a minor.”
“I’m a minor who can take care of himself. I will not be going to foster care.”
The woman studied him again over her glasses. Such a peculiar specimen! “You need to have foster parents. You cannot be emancipated. You’re not sixteen.”
“I am almost sixteen. I have a job at a hardware store. I go to school. My family owns this house and the land. I also work the land. I’m safer here without my father than I am with him. Maybe you should have removed my father from this house years ago.”
“Perhaps,” the man said, “but he’s in jail, and it’s state law that fifteen-year-old kids have to be in foster care in situations such as this until we know who you’re going to live with.”
“I’m staying in my home unless you would like to arrest me. Anywhere you put me, I’m coming home. Do you want to lockme up in a detention center? Jail? I haven’t committed a crime. Do you want to send me to juvie?”
The two appeared very uncomfortable. They wriggled. They shifted on their feet.
The woman eyed Logan up and down. He was huge. She knew it would take several men to wrestle Logan into a car and then into a foster home. She had to know he would simply walk out the door and come back here. How many times did they want to wrestle this huge kid into a car and haul him off to foster care only to have him come back?
The man took off his glasses, cleaned them, and sighed.
The woman’s shoulders slumped. “You’re a child,” she said, tipping her head way back to see Logan’s face.
“You can’t be alone,” the man said. He came up to Logan’s shoulders. “It’s not safe.”
“It isn’t?”
The man sighed again.
“I’m safer without my dad here. How about you sit down and have dinner with Bellini and I and then go? We’re having spaghetti.”
They seemed defeated. They exchanged a glance. Interestingly enough, they stayed for spaghetti, salad and hot bread. The four of us did not talk about foster care. The man and woman seemed too exhausted for that. They did have very difficult jobs. We talked about fishing, the animals on Logan’s land, and hiking trails, and when they left, they thanked us for a “delicious dinner.”
“One more time, Logan,” the woman said, but not with any force. “We’d like you to come with us.”
“The foster family is”—the man coughed— “waiting for you.”
“Stop by Lady Whiskey’s on your way out of town,” I said. “That’s my mom’s bar. Ask for the Lady Whiskey Martini. That’s the best. I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming.”
I called my mother to warn her what was going on at Logan’s. Later, I learned they did stop by the bar and had Lady Whiskey Martinis. They talked to my mother. My mother told me that she “explained things to them in a way that they could understand and appreciate. Plus, I gave them our famous banana splits with extra whip cream. I think that did the trick.”
Many people wrote letters to Children’s Services to say they would keep an eye on Logan, the principal of the school got involved, and my mother called the governor, a longtime friend. Problem fixed.
Everything went well without Drake. Logan’s life was certainly more peaceful. He worked the farm, and he worked at the hardware store to pay the bills and buy his food. He told me he had way more money now because none of the money was going toward Drake’s alcohol, gambling, and other problems. With the extra money he took me out on dates.
I often took him lunch and cookies I baked. In addition, teachers, coaches, our friends, and the O’Donnell family all came together to make sure Logan thrived and felt cared for.
Logan was…lighter, happier, more cheerful. He loved the independence and the freedom. He loved earning his own money and not having to turn any of it over to Drake for “rent.” He loved not being verbally attacked and demeaned by Drake.
That all stopped when Drake was released from prison early that summer after our senior year. Prison had only made him worse.
With Logan out in the field on the tractor, Drake turned to me. “I know you two thought I’d be gone today in Helena. Too bad. When I found out you were coming over, I told him to go out and plow the field. He wasn’t happy about it. I don’t think he trusts me alone with you. In fact, I know he doesn’t. He was hoping to be done before you got here, but he’s not. As I planned.”
In the distance, I saw Logan turn the tractor. I knew it was because he saw me with Drake. I was scared of Drake, and he knew it. Logan was coming, determined to rescue me.
I put my shoulders back. I would rescue myself.
“I need to talk to you without Logan around,” Drake said, “so you listen up, little girl.” He glared at me. “I will do this quickly, but I’ll speak slowly so you understand.”
Already an insult. “I’m quite sure I’ll understand whatever you say, as I speak English. What do you want to talk about?” I didn’t bother to gentle my tone. I couldn’t stand Drake. He stepped too close to me, but I held my ground.
