The first two chapters of Gathering Twigs

PROLOGUE

Monday, August 10, 1998

“All rise!” the bailiff announced as Judge Gary Lockhart entered the courtroom to take the legal steps to end the trial.

“You may be seated,” Judge Lockhart said after he had taken his place.

He looked at Gina Griggs, the prosecutor, then at Jack Turner, the attorney for Brandy Shaw, the defendant. Finally, the judge’s eyes briefly rested on Brandy before addressing the full courtroom.

“I have been informed that the jury has reached a verdict. I wish to caution everyone in the courtroom that regardless of the outcome of this trial, you should conduct yourselves with decorum. I understand that those supporting one side will be pleased, while those supporting the other side will be unhappy. These adjectives are certainly not strong enough to describe the emotions that will occur. However, I expect everyone to behave in a civilized manner. No shouting. No accusations. Nothing should be said after the verdict is read. Am I clear on this point?”

Judge Lockhart had reason to believe that an outburst was on the horizon, given what had already happened in the trial. He looked around the courtroom as if meeting the eyes of every person in the gallery, especially the two who had nearly brawled during the trial at one point.

“I’ll take your silence as an indication of your understanding,” he said. Turning to Ms. Griggs, he said, “Are we ready, Ms. Griggs?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And is the defense ready?” he asked Jack.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Jack studied Judge Lockhart to see if he might already know the verdict. Sometimes, judges were told prior to the jury’s entry into the courtroom to declare their findings. He seemed not to know, or at least he gave no indication he did.

Judge Lockhart turned to the bailiff. “You may bring in the jury.”

As the seven women and five men entered to take their seats in the jury box, Jack prayed that his client would go free. None of the jurors gave any indication of their verdict in their body language. Exhaustion seemed to be the only outward signal given to anyone.

Once they were seated, the judge asked as if he didn’t know the answer to his question, “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

The jury forewoman rose. “We have.”

“Please hand the bailiff the verdict.”

The bailiff took from her a sheet of paper that was folded in quarters. Taking the folded paper to the judge, the bailiff stood in his place, glowering at the gallery as a warning to anyone who might ignore the judge’s admonition about outbursts.

“The defendant will rise,” Judge Lockhart said and opened the paper carefully and read the verdict to himself before saying, “On the first count of the indictment, murder in the second degree, how do you find?”

Jack was suddenly transported in his mind to the first time the answer to that question was so important as to be urgent, almost necessary, for him to be capable of finding happiness. He had been only thirteen back then—oddly both a lifetime and mere seconds ago.

The next few words from the jury forewoman would affect the rest of Brandy’s life. Those effects could be devastating. If found guilty, she would be at least in her thirties before she breathed free air again, possibly longer, depending on if she were also guilty of the other crime she was accused of.

Jack closed his eyes in silent prayer—a prayer he was fully aware God could answer with a resounding NO. Time froze, holding its breath along with Jack.

1

August 9, 1997 – One Year Earlier

As Brandy Shaw watched the miles slip past from the backseat of her family’s car, all she could think about was how she’d never see Eddie again. She was moving to Denton, Florida, some stupid town on Florida’s northern Gulf Coast. Eddie was still back in Winston-Salem, where she’d lived all her life until yesterday. She’d complained, of course, but her claims that life was unfair had been met with a quick glance from her mother before she cast her eyes down again, knowing she herself was to blame, or at least that’s how Brandy saw it.

Her brother, Ryan, sat in the front seat reading a book. Brandy wasn’t much into books. She’d been diagnosed with ADHD when she was in first grade, and sitting still long enough to read a book was agony. She didn’t even read the books assigned at school, choosing the Cliff’s Notes version instead. It had usually allowed her to fake her way through an assignment. The only thing worse than reading a book was riding in a car on long trips. At least with a book, she could put it down for a while.

Her mom was the lucky one. They were moving their entire lives to Florida so her mom could be with Jeff Regent, the guy she’d met only a few months ago. Brandy would have a stepfather once her mom and Jeff were married. Of course, it was possible they would never be married, but that wasn’t Brandy’s decision. It was her mom’s. Or maybe not—probably not, in fact. Any such decisions would never be her mother’s. Jeff, whom Brandy had met only once, seemed to be the “I’m in charge” kind of guy. He’d certainly taken charge of her mom, and through that, her and Ryan.

Laying her head back against the seat, she tried to sleep, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. When her nerves were singing to her the way they were now, sleep wasn’t just difficult, it was impossible. Her medicines—when she took them—helped her focus, but they didn’t help her sleep.

She sat up, growling in anger, and stared out the window again.

“We’ll be stopping for gas soon,” her mother said. “You can walk off some of your energy.”

“That’s not what’s bothering me. Well, it is, but it’s not the main thing!” She shot out her breath in a huff. “Why are you taking us away from the only life we’ve ever known? I don’t know anybody in Florida! Ryan doesn’t either, but he doesn’t care since he didn’t have that many friends anyway!”

“I have friends!” he protested.

“Not a girlfriend!”

“That’s enough!” her mother, Lorraine, interjected. “It seems to me if you know what it’s like being away from Eddie that you’d understand how I feel being away from Jeff!”

“Mom, you barely know each other! You met—what?—four months ago?”

“You told me you were in love with Eddie after the first date!” Lorraine said.

“That’s different! We’re teenagers. We fall in love fast.”

“We’re not going to talk about me and Jeff,” Lorraine said.

“How could you love him? He’s not even that good looking.”

“Not to you,” Lorraine answered. “Besides, there’s more to love than looks.”

Brandy sat back and snorted in frustration because she knew her mother was right. Eddie’s twin sister Sheila was in love with Roy Conway, who was as ugly as a broken water pipe. Brandy always felt Roy was the luckiest guy in the world to end up with someone as pretty as Sheila.

Her mom, though—that was different. Brandy saw her mom’s being with an ugly guy as somehow a reflection on herself and the family, as if her mom wasn’t pretty enough to get a guy as good-looking as Eddie, and her mom’s choice made it seem she herself wasn’t worthy of a guy like Eddie.

As she stewed in her anger, she came to the conclusion that this was all her father’s fault. Two years ago, he’d run off with another woman. They hadn’t seen him since. If he’d stuck around, this would not be happening. Of course, it wasn’t as if her life before he disappeared had been wonderful. He would never have won any father-of-the-year awards, but at least there had been no plans to leave the town where she’d grown up. Now, she was being whisked away to a strange town and life.

She had wondered if her mother was running toward something or running away. Brandy’s first thought upon hearing they would be moving to Florida was to run away. Maybe it was in their gene pool to run. Her grandfather on her father’s side had run off the same way Brandy’s father had. Maybe her father had inherited the same run-away gene the rest of her family seemed to share.

The only reason Brandy hadn’t run away was that Eddie had said he wouldn’t run away with her. “You think a fast food job will pay the bills if we ran away?” he’d said. “We’d have to quit school, and I’m hoping for a football scholarship.”

So now, here she was, wanting to scream because she was trapped in a life she didn’t choose.

She felt the car slowing and looked out the window. Her mother was exiting I-85 South as they approached Montgomery to get gas, which had the added benefit of allowing Brandy out of the car to burn off some of the energy that was her constant companion.

As they pulled up to the gas pumps, her mother asked, “Did you take your meds this morning?”

Here we go, Brandy thought. She could lie, but her mom wouldn’t have asked the question if she didn’t already know the answer.

“No.”

“Why not? Brandy, you knew we’d be driving all day! What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I was sort of hoping you’d change your mind and not go.”

“Brandy, we packed up the whole house! You helped. Did you really think I would decide after doing all that to stay in Winston-Salem?”

Instead of answering, Brandy jumped out of the car and nearly ran into the store to use the bathroom. She really didn’t need to go, but her mom had to pump the gas and her brother couldn’t follow her into the ladies’ room, so she could have a moment alone.

When she arrived at the bathroom door, it was locked, and Brandy wondered what else could go wrong that day. She strode up to the cashier, a woman who looked as though she didn’t care even before Brandy spoke.

“Do you have a key to the restroom?”

“Yes, but it’s being used right now. You’ll have to wait until the person in there comes out.”

“You mean it’s like a one-person-at-a-time bathroom?” She could feel the frustration starting to boil over.

“This isn’t some kind of truck stop or anything, Honey. That’s the only bathroom we have.”

“But I need to get in now.”

“Listen. I can’t make the woman in there move any faster. If you gotta go that bad, there’s some bushes out back.”

“I don’t need—never mind!” She stormed out of the store and started walking to the edge of the parking area to walk the perimeter as fast as she could, probably more than once.

As she came around from the back of the store after her first circuit, a woman was leaving and her mother was going inside, probably to use the bathroom. Brandy figured the woman exiting was the one who’d been in the bathroom before. The woman and her mother exchanged a nod, and her mother disappeared inside while the other lady climbed into her beat-up sedan and drove off.

Brandy wondered if the woman lived nearby and just came to the store to stay inside the restroom until she heard someone needing to get in. She imagined the woman laughing on the other side of the door as she listened to the doorknob turn first one way, then the other. The woman’s car didn’t look capable of going more than ten miles before dying, which is what caused her to think the woman lived nearby in the first place. She knew the woman wasn’t hogging the bathroom on purpose, but she considered it anyway. It was something for her mind to do.

As Brandy finished her second trek around the parking lot, she saw her mother getting into their car. The cashier was standing outside the store, smoking a cigarette.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” the lady said, smirking. “Real private back there.”

Brandy considered telling the woman she hadn’t used the bathroom back there but figured it was no use. People thought what they wanted to think, especially about people they took an instant dislike to, like the way Brandy had thought ugly things about the woman who’d been in the bathroom.

As Brandy buckled her seatbelt, her mother turned around and looked at her, holding out one hand. Brandy didn’t have to wonder what was in it.

“Take your meds, Brandy. You’ll feel much better if you do.”

“I won’t, but okay,” Brandy answered. Her mother watched as she put the pill in her mouth and took a swallow from her water thermos. When she’d swallowed it, she opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue, raising it so her mother could see underneath.

“No reason to get sassy,” her mother said.

“No reason not to either,” Brandy said under her breath.

Brandy hated it when her mother was right, and when the meds took effect and she realized she was handling the time cooped up in the backseat better than before, she sighed deeply, wishing Eddie were in the seat next to her.

Brandy sat back and watched the scenery drift by. She felt shame at how she sometimes hated her mother while still loving her and put her arms around herself to attempt to hold the anger and shame inside.

She ducked her head, not wanting either her mother or Ryan to see the tears running silently down her cheeks.