These Silent Woods: A Novel(25)

All of this is to say that when CPS got there, things didn’t look too good. Dirty dishes everywhere: countertops, table, couch. I hadn’t cleaned the bathroom since Cindy passed, nor had I taken out the trash. People had brought casseroles and stuff, and a few of them were in the fridge, plus on the counter sat a chicken carcass that I intended to pitch but hadn’t gotten around to. It just so happened that at the moment they knocked on the door, Grace Elizabeth was in the middle of a diaper change, which I always did on the floor. I stood up to open the door, and when I turned back, there was the baby with her dirty diaper over her face, must’ve pulled it up right when I went to get the door.

“Mr. Morrison,” said the man, after snooping around for a bit, “Child Protective Services has determined that it is in the best interest of the child to remove her from this home.”

“Remove?”

“Yes. That means we’ll take her into our custody.”

“The hell you will.” I scooped Grace Elizabeth off the floor and held her close. I could barely believe my ears.

The woman slipped out the door and waved to the squad car from the front porch.

“Mr. Morrison, this doesn’t need to get ugly.”

“You come in here, find some dirty dishes and some trash that needs to go out, and you determine that I’m unfit and think you can just haul off with my child. Well, I got news for you. You can’t just take her.”

“Actually, Kenny, they can.” A new voice, at the door. Don Williams, a buddy of mine. He’d run track with both Cindy and me in high school. He was a deputy now.

“Donny—”

“Listen, Kenny. They have a court order for removal.”

“A court order?” I shifted Grace Elizabeth in my arms. “And they brought you along, for backup.” I was piecing things together. “Which means this isn’t about the dishes and the trash. This has been in the works for a while, this—plan. To take my child away. To ‘remove’ her.” I replayed the previous days. Mrs. Judge bringing groceries to the house, offering to take the baby so I could rest. I glared at Donny, pointed a shaking finger. “You could’ve had the decency to warn me, Don.” But I knew how he was, ethical and very serious about his work, and he never would’ve bent a rule, not even for an old friend.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his brown trousers. “This is a setback, Kenny. That’s all. It’s not the end. You have rights.”

“You’re damn right I do. I’m her father. If you think I’m gonna let you walk out of here without a fight—”

“I know you’ve had your share of hardships. First Lincoln, then Cindy. Not to mention the—” He fumbled for words. “—the challenges you’ve encountered, adjusting to life back Stateside.”

I knew what he was referencing, one incident from shortly after I got home, and it stung. I stole a glance at the CPS worker, who was sliding her feet back, inching away from me, in movements so slight they were barely noticeable.

“It’s a shame, the whole thing,” Don said. “But listen. The courts, they want families to be together. You get yourself a lawyer, they’ll get this thing sorted out.”

“And who will preside over that? Let me guess. The honorable Judge Loveland.” I shook my head. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”

“Kenny, he won’t preside.” Don gestured for me to follow him into the kitchen. “I’m saying this as your friend. Don’t lose your cool here.” He leaned in close. “You can’t afford to make a scene right now. Not with your—history. It’ll all go on record. Make things much worse for you.” He swallowed. “Especially with me here. God knows I’d never want to testify against you, Kenny, especially on the matter of you and your baby girl, but I would, if I had to, and you know it.”

“She came to the house. Cindy’s mother. I let her in. Let her take the baby for the afternoon. I trusted her.”

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “It’s not right.” He reached out and adjusted the salt and pepper shakers on the counter. Finally, he turned to me. “Here,” he said, holding out his hands for the baby. I knew he had two kids of his own, a boy and girl.

I held Grace Elizabeth close. The CPS workers stood in the corner, watching, the woman looking nervous. I kissed the baby on the forehead, breathed in her hair. I handed her over to Don, and he carried her out to the sedan, strapped her into a car seat in the back seat. I stood on the porch, watching, my heart pounding: a battle raging inside of me. Wanting to run and take her back but also trying to heed Don’s warning about everything going on record.

“Caseworker will be by later this afternoon,” the woman called over her shoulder.

And then they all climbed into their cars and drove off. Don rolled down his window and raised two fingers as he turned out the driveway. Tires crunching the gravel, then silence.

As soon as they were out of sight, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.

Unfit. That’s what they would call me. And Grace Elizabeth would be gone, too, just like that. Just like Cindy.

No.

With Cindy, it was so quick, there was no way to fight it off. Cindy seeing the deer and grabbing my arm and gasping, Kenny, and then the deer leaping into the passenger-side window from the bank, its hooves against the glass, and me slamming on the brakes and the rain, the car sliding on the asphalt and the back end going up on the berm and then over and over.