“I don’t wanna see them.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, alert to the hostility in his tone.
“I don’t know them.”
“You lived with them until you were four.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No.”
“You lived on a ranch. There were horses. Any of that sound familiar?”
“No.”
“Did your mother ever talk about them after you left?”
“My only mother is Isabelle.”
“Did Joyce ever talk about her life back in Kentucky?”
“Dunno.” He adds another finger to his original finger and continues tracing the edge of my desk. “She talked about a lot of stuff when she was high and running at the mouth, but I didn’t pay no attention to it.”
“What kind of stuff did she talk about?”
“I told you, I wasn’t paying attention.”
I take his responses for what they are—lies wrapped in a blanket of self-protection. “I don’t understand, Dwayde. If you don’t remember anything about Kentucky, why are you so opposed to seeing your grandparents?”
“Stop calling them that!” he says, raising his voice.
“Why are you so against seeing Mr. and Mrs. Franklin?” I amend.
When he just glares at me, I say, “We’ll skip the reasons for now and talk about the legalities, then.” I lean forward, holding his belligerent gaze. “You’re aware that Mr. and Mrs. Franklin will likely get a court order if you don’t see them tomorrow.”
“Whatever. I won’t show.”
“That’s not going to be an option if a judge makes that ruling.”
“You said you only cared about what I wanted. But you’re a liar…you don’t give a shit about me.” Through the shine of angry tears, I glimpse the vulnerable, scared little boy behind the defiant facade.
“That’s not true, Dwayde. I’m trying to gather all the facts in order to help you. And right now, you’re not giving me much to work with. Did the Franklins ever hurt you?”
He averts his eyes and remains tight-lipped.
“Dwayde, give me something.”
I sigh when he still doesn’t budge, knowing all about protecting secrets. Just as I know there isn’t anything I can say to ferret out whatever Dwayde’s hiding until he’s ready to give it up.
“Working with what we’ve got, you have two choices. One, you can refuse the visit for tomorrow. If you do that, the Franklins will seek a court order. And if they’re successful, which is highly likely, a judge will decide on the conditions and frequency of those visits. Or two, you can agree to this one visit for now, and we can use that as leverage to control the terms.”
“What does ‘leverage’ mean?” he asks, still scowling.
“It means we will have the upper hand to make some reasonable requests.”
“Like what?”
