promised to bring him back again when we could, so he could select some more items, and then went back to the cabin.
Lucinda, bless her heart, took Friday morning off so that she could lead us to the home of Clara Pickens, Robbie’s maternal grandmother. We followed Lucinda’s truck up the mountain; then she turned off onto a side road we had yet to explore and drove another mile before pulling up in front of a small house that was situated very close to the road. We parked behind her, took Robbie by the hand, and went to the door.
Lucinda’s knock was answered by a middle-aged woman who we had been told was the grandmother’s caregiver. She greeted Lucinda warmly, and Lucinda introduced us. We were led inside to a small bedroom, where the grandmother was seated in a recliner, wrapped up in a quilt. She appeared to be terribly frail and looked many years older than her true age.
“Robbie,” she said, holding out her arms.
Robbie went over to her and accepted a hug. “Hi, Granny,” he said. “These are my new friends, George and Mike.”
We shook the old lady’s hand, and she scrutinized us carefully. “Lucinda tells me that one of you is a policeman,” she said.
“That would be me,” I said.
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I’m a captain,” I said, “and nowadays I sit behind a desk on the sixth floor of the sheriff’s office. I spend most of my day filling out paperwork and sending other people out on the street ‘in harm’s way’.”
“That’s good,” she said. “Robbie doesn’t need any more departures in his life. He’ll have mine to deal with soon enough.”
“It’s my intention,” I said, “to be around as long as he needs me, and Mike feels the same way.”
Mike nodded his head.
“Lucinda says you have a nice house,” she said. “What about school and church?”
“We plan to enroll Robbie in a private school run by the Episcopal Church,” Mike said.
“Are you Episcopalian, then?” she said.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said.
“I dated a young minister many years ago,” she said. “He was an Episcopal priest, and a good man. Unfortunately, I let him get away.” She smiled at the remembrance and seemed to be lost in thought for a long moment.
“I can promise you this, Mrs. Pickens,” I said. “If Mike and I adopt Robbie, you’ll see him often. We spend two weeks here every June, another week in October, and at least one weekend a month at other times. We’ll bring him to see you every time we’re in the area.”
“That’s good enough for me,” she said. “Lucinda visits me often, and over the past couple of years, she’s told me a lot about all the good things you’ve done for her boys.”
“They’re great boys,” Mike said, “and we’ve enjoyed having them work for us from time to time.”
We visited for a while longer, but it was clear that the woman was getting tired, so we obtained the necessary signatures on the adoption papers, and Lucinda and the caregiver witnessed them. Robbie gave his granny a hug, said goodbye, and we left.
Outside the house, we thanked Lucinda profusely and drove straight into town to deliver the signed documents to the lawyer’s office. I dropped Mike off there and circled the block until he appeared at the curb, and then I picked him up.
“Anybody want to go to McDonald’s?” Mike said.
“Me,” said a small voice from the back seat.
“Okay,” I said. “McDonald’s it is.”
We had stopped by Walmart earlier and acquired a pair of shorts for Robbie that could serve as a bathing suit. Back at the cabin, we sat in lawn chairs and watched him play in the creek until his legs started to get cold. We took him back up to the cabin and let him have a hot shower in our bathroom, after which we all took a nap. An hour or so after we awakened, Doc Jenkins stopped by to give Robbie a final post-surgery checkup.
“It’s looking good,” he said. “I don’t think I need to see him again unless some sort of problem
Lucinda, bless her heart, took Friday morning off so that she could lead us to the home of Clara Pickens, Robbie’s maternal grandmother. We followed Lucinda’s truck up the mountain; then she turned off onto a side road we had yet to explore and drove another mile before pulling up in front of a small house that was situated very close to the road. We parked behind her, took Robbie by the hand, and went to the door.
Lucinda’s knock was answered by a middle-aged woman who we had been told was the grandmother’s caregiver. She greeted Lucinda warmly, and Lucinda introduced us. We were led inside to a small bedroom, where the grandmother was seated in a recliner, wrapped up in a quilt. She appeared to be terribly frail and looked many years older than her true age.
“Robbie,” she said, holding out her arms.
Robbie went over to her and accepted a hug. “Hi, Granny,” he said. “These are my new friends, George and Mike.”
We shook the old lady’s hand, and she scrutinized us carefully. “Lucinda tells me that one of you is a policeman,” she said.
“That would be me,” I said.
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I’m a captain,” I said, “and nowadays I sit behind a desk on the sixth floor of the sheriff’s office. I spend most of my day filling out paperwork and sending other people out on the street ‘in harm’s way’.”
“That’s good,” she said. “Robbie doesn’t need any more departures in his life. He’ll have mine to deal with soon enough.”
“It’s my intention,” I said, “to be around as long as he needs me, and Mike feels the same way.”
Mike nodded his head.
“Lucinda says you have a nice house,” she said. “What about school and church?”
“We plan to enroll Robbie in a private school run by the Episcopal Church,” Mike said.
“Are you Episcopalian, then?” she said.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said.
“I dated a young minister many years ago,” she said. “He was an Episcopal priest, and a good man. Unfortunately, I let him get away.” She smiled at the remembrance and seemed to be lost in thought for a long moment.
“I can promise you this, Mrs. Pickens,” I said. “If Mike and I adopt Robbie, you’ll see him often. We spend two weeks here every June, another week in October, and at least one weekend a month at other times. We’ll bring him to see you every time we’re in the area.”
“That’s good enough for me,” she said. “Lucinda visits me often, and over the past couple of years, she’s told me a lot about all the good things you’ve done for her boys.”
“They’re great boys,” Mike said, “and we’ve enjoyed having them work for us from time to time.”
We visited for a while longer, but it was clear that the woman was getting tired, so we obtained the necessary signatures on the adoption papers, and Lucinda and the caregiver witnessed them. Robbie gave his granny a hug, said goodbye, and we left.
Outside the house, we thanked Lucinda profusely and drove straight into town to deliver the signed documents to the lawyer’s office. I dropped Mike off there and circled the block until he appeared at the curb, and then I picked him up.
“Anybody want to go to McDonald’s?” Mike said.
“Me,” said a small voice from the back seat.
“Okay,” I said. “McDonald’s it is.”
We had stopped by Walmart earlier and acquired a pair of shorts for Robbie that could serve as a bathing suit. Back at the cabin, we sat in lawn chairs and watched him play in the creek until his legs started to get cold. We took him back up to the cabin and let him have a hot shower in our bathroom, after which we all took a nap. An hour or so after we awakened, Doc Jenkins stopped by to give Robbie a final post-surgery checkup.
“It’s looking good,” he said. “I don’t think I need to see him again unless some sort of problem
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