Chapter Twenty-Eight

Waiting, waiting, waiting. The doorbell rang at three accompanied by the small flashing light a deaf person using the suite might need. They’d ruled out sex while waiting and instead put away Jessie’s clothes and cosmetics. She claimed two of Teddy’s dresser drawers for her underwear and T-shirts, but hung other items in Ella’s closet in order not to crowd him out. They placed the boxes and bags out on the curb and made certain the nursery bedroom appeared clean and inviting. Teddy brewed coffee as if they needed to increase their jitters, and Jessie insisted on going to Albertson’s bakery for fancy cookies to offer the social worker. After all, the trip killed time, and they needed to impress.

They let the social worker in and posed their chairs on either side of the coffee table set with a plate of cookies and decorated with a bouquet of supermarket flowers. After the scrubbing Nell and Corazon had done, the place smelled fresh, no taint of Wyatt’s cigarette smoke or funk of a guy living alone, not that Teddy had been sloppy, but they wanted to make sure not even a dishtowel lay out of place on the counter.

This was a different woman from the one who had taken Lizzy away, younger, more gaunt and bony, a dishwater blonde, hair in a bun escaping in wisps around her face, a face possessing thin lips, and an unpierced ear with a very sharp pencil for taking notes stuck behind it. The social worker took a seat between them, opened her black briefcase, and got straight to the point.

“I’m Miss Simms, Elizabeth’s case worker. While I’ve seen a copy of the letter left by the mother expressing her desire to leave the child with you, there are other considerations such as your ability to care for her physically.” Her eyes, gray as rain clouds, swept over their wheelchairs.

“I’ve been taking care of her nights since Lizzy came into the world. I cut her umbilical cord.” Teddy’s normally pleasing voice came out more sharply than he intended at her implication.

Jessie rushed to soften the situation. “Could we offer you some coffee and cookies?”

Miss Simms answered in an I-cannot-be-bribed tone of voice. “No, thank you. Who are you?”

“I’m Jessica Minvielle. I’ll help Teddy take care of the child.”

“Coach Mo’s daughter, paralyzed from the waist down, I’ve heard. How are you going to help Mr. Billodeaux exactly?”

Did everyone know her business? Jessie guessed she shared her father’s local fame, and heaven knew she should be used to being crippled by now. She answered politely. “Both of us have been feeding and changing her. We put a pad on the bed so we can do it easily. We keep a small cooler of formula nearby in case either of us is out of our chairs when she cries. I’ve rocked her to sleep. Lizzy’s mother didn’t take much interest in her.”

“That’s fine for an infant, but what about when the child starts to walk? They are as fast as rabbits and into everything like puppies. This apartment is only a couple of blocks from one of the busiest streets in Lafayette, not to mention the constant student traffic along this road. If she got out one day, she could be run over as quick as a stray dog.”

“Teddy can get around on crutches. We’d watch her constantly and keep her inside.”

“There is no fenced yard, no yard at all, for fresh air and outdoor play.”

“We’d take her to the park and my folks’ place. You’ve been there. She’d have acres to roam and ponies to ride.” The edge in Teddy’s voice turned to desperation.

The social worker drew her sharpened pencil from her hair and wrote a note in the case file spread out next to the colorful macarons. “I understand you work some nights and in New Orleans on weekends during football season. Would this young lady be the caretaker when you’re away?”

“I’d be willing to do that, but he has a large family that can offer help also.” For now, Jessie kept her currently part-time job as a trainer quiet, but she’d give it up for Teddy and the baby if necessary. She’d already decided that. Unlike UL, they truly needed her—and Teddy had already given her tastes of freedom unimaginable only weeks ago.

“Yes, Martha Gilmore spoke very highly of the Billodeauxs and their values. She’s the one who collected the baby after the terrible incident in which you were involved. I’ve seen the police report. Their home is certainly impressive and very secure,” Miss Simms said as if nothing truly impressed her.

“Would you like to see the baby’s room here? It’s down the hall on the right.” Teddy said, grabbing at anything positive.

“Of course, but don’t get up. I mean, stay here while I inspect.” The faux pas brought a little color to the woman’s cheeks as she went off briskly to view the nursery. Over the sounds of closet doors opening and drawers being shut, Teddy whispered, “How do you think it’s going?”

Jess had to admit, “Not well. She seems to have made up her mind before she came.”

“We’ll change it.” His optimism shown on his face like sunshine.

Miss Simms returned from poking into their lives. “I assume you are cohabiting. How long have you been together?”

Teddy always seemed to choke on questions like this, so Jessie answered at once. “We’ve been together for a few months. I only moved in recently, but we’ve known each other since high school.” Fine, she’d changed weeks to months and one day to recently. Would the supervisor take her word or dig deeper?

“Not very long then. Cohabitation is not commitment, you must realize. Relationships like this come and go and are not stable enough to provide a child with a good home.”

“But I love Teddy and Lizzy. I am committed.” Jessie knew she’d done it now, said the words that Teddy might not be able to reciprocate. She’d come a long way since he’d told her off at rehab, but had she come far enough to earn his love?

“Until you tire of caring for a baby that’s not yours cooped up in this little place. Believe me, I’ve seen it before. This is how children end up in foster care to begin with. One partner moves out. The other can’t cope.”

“I do most of my work at home on the computer. Jessie would be free to go out, take more college courses, and get a second degree if she wanted.” Teddy threw out all the possibilities he could think of. Obvious to Jessie, but she hoped the social worker didn’t realize he grasped at straws that would not keep them afloat.

“I am sorry,” Miss Simms said, but Jessie doubted she meant it. “Between your dual disabilities and lack of marriage plus the location of apartment, I can’t in good conscience place the child here. She will remain with the elder Billodeauxs, who have a proven track record and might possibly adopt Elizabeth. You are welcome to visit as much as you want with unrestricted access since you are her uncle and a member of the family. Of course, you can contest my decision legally, but I doubt that you’d win.”

Miss Simms tucked her pencil behind her ear again and closed the folder. Now that the decision had been made, she felt free to help herself to several cookies and wrap them in a paper napkin, as they no longer constituted a bribe. “Thank you for the treat. Really, I do wish both of you well. I’ll get out by myself.”

Speechless, Jessie and Teddy watched her bony backside, clad in gray gloomy like her eyes, retreat and disappear. Teddy muttered as the automatic door slowly closed, “Don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.”

Jessie picked up one of the delicate pastel macarons and squeezed it a little too hard. As the cookie crumbled, she said, “Sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth.”

“I’ll have to work harder, make more money, and get a better place with a yard in one of the suburbs. I need to…”

“Get married.” There, Jessie said it for him. “I’d be willing.”

“Do you mean that? You’d go through with one of those marriages they talk about in historical romance novels—what are they called?”

The disbelief in his baby blue eyes almost caused her physical pain. Why would he doubt her sincerity? She’d read her share of romance novels and supplied the answer.

“Marriages of convenience. Oh, they still happen. I knew a girl in college who married a foreign student to keep him in the country. But no, I’d want a real marriage, Teddy. One with sex and more children, and yes, that house with a yard when we could afford one. Weren’t you listening when I said I loved you and Lizzy?”

“I thought you said that to impress the social worker. I mean I hoped if you lived with me for a while you might eventually feel that way, but I’m no X-avier Hopkins or one of the Sinners. You could aim way higher than me, Jess, way higher.”

“Remember, I was engaged to a football player. If things had moved forward, I doubt Troy would have stayed with me one minute longer than he had to in order to look good—if he’d survived and I’d still been paralyzed. My October wedding might have been cancelled whether or not he lived.”

“In a couple of weeks, you could have that October wedding—if you don’t want anything fancy. In fact, we can get a license today, right now. Then, I want to take you to Chapelle to pick out your rings at LeClerc’s. They know me and will extend credit. Get anything you want. After that, we’ll visit Lizzy and tell my family.”

Teddy radiated total happiness so unlike Troy who’d worn an expression of smug self-satisfaction when Jessie agreed to marry him and abide by his schedule for, well, everything from his career moves to having kids. The ring had been five carats, sold to pay some of her medical expenses uncovered by insurance. That seemed right since the bastard had left her broken. Do better than Teddy? She thought not. Still, Jessie waved a hand in front of his face to stop the flood of plans.

“One more place to go before we do all that. I left my wedding gown in the back of my closet at home. We need to swing by and pick it up. I think we’ll need my birth certificate too.”

Teddy’s fingers flew across the keyboard of his always-nearby laptop as if not providing an immediate answer might cause her to reconsider. “Yes, we do. Picture ID, certified birth certificate, and social security number—twenty-four hour waiting period and a twenty-five-dollar fee in cash.” He slapped the pocket containing his wallet. “Got that much on me and my birth certificate is in my desk. Let’s go!”