Portia had always known her burdens were never bigger than the breadth or strength of the shoulders she placed them on. She got out of bed with the sun, eager to take on the day. Her father, also a morning person, was already awake, reading the paper and eating a bowl of bran flakes.
“Good morning, Pop. I’m going to cook Cream of Wheat. Do you want some?”
“Actually, I fixed you breakfast.”
He used his spoon to point to the bowl of cereal sitting across the table. It had bran and slices of banana and strawberries. All it needed was milk, shich sat in the middle of the table.
“I’m going to Family Services today.”
“I figured you might,” said Mr. Gatteau.
“How did you know?”
“I knew as soon you got out of this funk, you’d seize the day.”
“Seize the Carp,” said Portia.
“Right, Seize the Carp.”
Portia chuckled as she ate her cereal. It was a joke she only shared with her father – literary and cultural references neither Phoebe nor Mrs. Gatteau ever understood (or even cared to).
Portia drove to downtown Pittsburgh. She never had any reason to go downtown before and this was her trip into rush hour traffic. She handled it in stride, preferring side streets instead of the busy main routes. She found the parking garage and parked on the roof. The parking spaces were narrow and she wasn’t confident in her parking skills.
Most of Allegheny County’s Government buildings were gathered on one campus. Finding the correct building was hard if you didn’t know where to start. People directed Portia this way and that – none quite sure where Children’s Services was located. Finally, she found a friendly Sheriff at an information desk.
“Any County Sheriff knows these offices like the back of their hand.”
“I wish someone would’ve told me ahead of time. I’ve been looking all over.”
“Didn’t you see these?”
The Sheriff pointed to a Directions Map. It clearly indicated the information kiosk with a small letter i icon. It also listed Information in the directory, as well as Job & Family Services.
“Government is only as efficient as the person using it, I always say.”
Portia rolled her eyes slightly, but thanked the Sheriff. After all, he was right. All she had to do was look.
About a half-dozen clerks worked in the Job and Family Services office, serving a packed office. Two sat at admissions windows while the rest worked in the back. Portia took a number and grabbed a seat.
She went to the open window as soon as someone called her number. She’d been there just over an hour.
“How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a certain social worker.”
“What’s their name?”
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Gatteau. G-A-T-T-E-A-U.”
“First name?”
“Mine?”
“Is the child yours?”
“She belongs to my brother. Her name is Penny.”
“And the father’s name?”
“Alex Gatteau.”
“This case belongs to Aldene James. She’s out of the office right now. I can page her if you’d like.”
Portia nodded.
The clerk picked up a cell phone and tapped in a message. Within moments, the phone buzzed. It was a text from Ms. James.
“She said she’s headed back right now. Can you wait?”
“Of course.”
Portia waited in the crowded lobby. It was another twenty minutes before she saw Ms. James.
“I’ll be out in just a moment.”
There was, however, another hour of waiting. Just as Portia was about to give up, Ms. James showed her face again.
“It’s my lunch, but we can do this on the run, can’t we?”
Portia nodded eagerly. Ms. James picked up a pile of folders and stuffed them into her bag.
“Do you like subs?”
“I’ll eat pretty much anything.”
“I have this favorite spot,” said Ms. James.
They walked down back alleys, avoiding delivery and service trucks buzzing from office to office. The sub shop was tucked away, barely noticeable to the untrained eye. Inside, three deli clerks worked frantically, filling orders for the guests in line. Finally, it was their turn.
“What do you like?” asked Ms. James.
“There’s so much to choose from. I’ll take anything, I guess.”
“How about a Reuben?”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve never had a Reuben?” asked Ms. James incredulously, “Do you like roast beef and sauerkraut?”
Portia shrugged. Ms. James ordered two Reubens.
The cashier delivered their sandwich bowls to the end of the counter. Ms. James paid for both.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it. Everyone should try a Reuben at least once.”
They sat in the corner. The deli looked more like an old bar, with dark oak floors and café-styled tables with the green and white checkerboard veneer and wooden hoop-back cabaret bar chairs.
It was, thought Portia, ‘a big, wild world, with adventures in the least likely of places.’
“First things, first. Where’s Alex?”
“He’s um…not here.”
Ms. James gave Portia a puzzled look.
“He has to fill out the final paperwork.”
“He’s deceased.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”
“November 1st. Well, October 31st, actually.”
Ms. James shuffled through the paperwork, glancing at the pages, while Portia looked on silently.
“What should we do?”
“We might have to start the process all over again. The mother’s still in jail, right?”
Portia nodded.
“And you want to adopt?”
“Can I?”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“What kind of job do you have?”
“I’m a pet store manager.”
“How long have you worked there?”
“Six months.”
Ms. James leaned back in her chair and placed her hand upon her chin. She pinched her mouth open and tapped her teeth with the tip of her fingernail. Portia thought it was the oddest thing she’d ever seen.
“Nineteen, eh? It would be a tough sell convincing a judge to let you have custody. Is there anyone else who could adopt the child?”
“Darren Miller.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“Weren’t you pregnant last time I saw you?”
“Yeah, we had a baby together.”
“And you’re unmarried?”
“This won’t work,” sighed Ms. Jaygo, “This won’t work at all. Is there anyone else?”
“Maybe my parents.”
“How old are they?”
“I’m not sure. Dad had his fiftieth birthday party a few years back.”
“Where does he work?”
“He’s retired from the Post Office. He’s married to my mom.”
“Does she work?”
“She’s on disability.”
“Oh, lordy,” said Ms. James, “Even if the courts found your parents suitable for adoption, we’d still have to get a signed waiver from the mother.”
“Oh, lordy,” repeated Portia.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ramona hates my mom and I think the feeling’s mutual.”
Ms. Jaygo dug around in her purse and presented a business card to Portia.
“This is a friend of mine. He’s an attorney and he specializes in adoption law. You should call him first thing.”
Portia tucked the card in her pocket and thanked Ms. Jaygo and went on her way. She arrived at the Pet Store moments later. Bill was in the back, dealing with drama of his own.
“What happened here?”
“Oh, I knocked the damn cricket cage over and I’ve scattered these little varmints all over the place.”
“Let me get a broom.”
They cleaned them the best they could, but some found their way into crevices under the aquarium shelves.
“Maybe we should let the snakes out tonight and let them clean up.”
“Then how are we going to collect the snakes?”
“Okay, what eats snakes?”
Bill chortled loudly, laughing until he cried. After they finished with the crickets, they got back to business, helping customers, and tending to the rest of the animals. Work was a good cure for all that ailed Portia. In fact, it wasn’t until she got home that she even gave another thought to the adoption process.
Daren, however, had a problem of his own and needed Portia’s help.
“Could you go to Narcotics Anonymous with me?”
“I don’t know. When is it?”
“How about tonight?”
Portia shrugged.
“They say no addict should go through this alone. I need a circle of support. I want you in my inner circle.”
“Alright, I guess I’ll go.”
Portia went, hoping to be the casual observer. However, the meeting organizer had different plans. Portia introduced herself to the group, and it wasn’t long before she answered questions and contributed to discussions, becoming intimately involved with the group.
After the meeting, she went to a table covered with pamphlets and grabbed a copy of every one.
“I thought you didn’t want to go.”
“It was interesting. I didn’t know this many people were addicts.”
“I don’t want to sound like I’m ‘reborn’ with this cleanliness, but I think there are more people out there struggling with drugs than anyone really knows. It’s one of those secret problems.”
“Yeah,” agreed Portia, “I guess you’re right.”
When Portia got home, she went upstairs with her reading lamp and propped atop the dresser in her old bedroom, sat in the corner, and read through all the pamphlets.
While Darren was working hard to fix his problems, Phoebe was hardly working – still looking for easy solutions to difficult problems.
She dropped by the Gatteau house with her latest good news.
“Hello, family! I have an important announcement. Let’s go out some place nice to celebrate, my treat.”
Portia was dubious while her father was cautiously optimistic. Mrs. Gatteau, on the other hand, was eager to believe.
“What is it, dear?”
“Hold your horses. I’ll tell you when we get to the pizza parlor.”
‘La-dee-da,’ thought Portia, ‘that certainly was someplace special.
“Let’s go,” said Phoebe.
“Darren’s not home yet.”
“Give him a text. He can meet us there.”
“I’ll wait for him.”
“Come on, Portia, this is my moment.”
“Yes, Portia, let’s not hold up your big sister.”
“Alright, let me get ready.”
“Make it quick,” said Phoebe.
Portia texted Darren.
“B ther in 5.”
“Take ur time. I have to shower.”
Portia had no intention of hurrying. She sorted through her clothes, ironing them before she did anything else. After about five minutes in the basement, she heard the tramping of feet overhead followed by the rumble down the stairs. It was, of course, an impatient Phoebe.
“You haven’t showered?”
Portia shook her head.
“Come on already.”
“Darren’s not even here yet.”
“He just parked his car. He’s coming right behind me.”
Just then, Darren rumbled down the steps.
“You about ready?” he asked Portia.
“I still need to shower.”
“Come on, Portia,” whined Phoebe, “Why do you always have to ruin my things?’
“Psht,” hissed Portia, “I need a shower.”
“Hurry up already.”
Portia did in fact hurry up, but it was only because Darren was there and she didn’t want to fight in front of him. However, when she came downstairs, Phoebe and her parents had already left.
“They left already?”
Darren nodded.
“I can’t believe her. She always gives me all this drama.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” said Darren.
“Are you talking about me?”
Darren shrugged and gave a little wink afterwards. Portia sighed.
“You are twins, after all.”
They went to the pizza shop as soon as Portia finished getting ready. The Gatteaus were just being seated.
“Perfect timing,” said Darren.
Portia shrugged.
As soon as they sat down, Phoebe stood up and cleared her throat.
“Now that you’re here, we can finally get on with things.”
Darren grabbed Portia’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Portia remained silent.
“I brought you here to announce that I just got offered a new job.”
“Oh really?” said Mrs. Gatteau.
Phoebe looked as if she was about to explode.
“Just tell, us,” said Portia.
“Okay, here goes…you are looking at the new assistant choir director at Homestead Hill Baptist Church.”
“Hurray!” cheered her mother enthusiastically.
“Good for you,” said her father.
Portia clapped too, but only half-heartedly.
“That’s fantastic, Phoebe.”
“Ha!” spat Portia.
“”Shhhh,” whispered her mother.
If looks could kill…
Portia struck Darren with a glare that about put a bullet through him. He went about his business, taking a drink of water and wiping his mouth. Portia grabbed his hand under the table. She clenched it as tight as possible, digginer her fingers into the back of his hand. He jerked away and scooted hs chair away from Portia.
“I take it then don’t do background checks at this church? Good for you, I guess.”
“Portia!” said her father, “Stop that right now.”
“They know about it,” replied Phoebe, “and they’re okay with it.”
“The wayward church mouse…” whispered Portia. Luckily nobody heard that over the restaurant noise.
“They’re announcing me to the whole Church family this Sunday morning and I want everyone to come.”
Portia glanced up.
“Everyone.”
“That sounds just great, doesn’t it, Portia?’
“Yes, mother.”
With the great announcement out in the air, the rest of dinner went off with only one more hitch. Little Alex, who had been watching everything and everyone around him, grew restless. It was, after all, his first field trip. It was time to go anyway, so Darren and Portia took Alex home. Portia still gave Darren an earful on the way.
“I cannot believe you told her it was fantastic.”
“Well, it is.”
“You don’t know her like I know her.”
“I’ve heard your stories.”
“Did I tell you about how she got mad at me and stuck a pile of bubble gum in my bed one night and we had to cut all my hair off?”
Darren nodded.
“And Ensemble stories?”
Darren nodded again.
“And how she almost ruined the National Anthem?”
“Portia, you’ve told me all the stories several times over.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side, but you’ve got to be there for her, just like you’re there for me.”
“And about that,” said Portia, “I wonder if they know about her drinking problem.”
“That’s her business, not yours.”
“It’s their business. Whatever new deal she makes, she finds a way of failing miserably.”
“Like I said, it’s her business.”
Phoebe was at the house when Portia and Darren arrived. Portia held her tongue after she got out of Darren’s car. She headed for the basement, only to be stopped by her mother.
“By the way, how was your day downtown?”
“Let me put Alex to bed. He’s very grumpy.”
Portia went downstairs with no intention of returning to the living room. Mrs. Gatteau, however, could not leave well enough alone. She came downstairs.
“So?”
“So what?”
“What happened with the adoption?”
“Oh, about that...the social worker said you’ve have to go through a screening.”
“That should be no problem. I’ve raised three kids without anyone’s help.”
“There’s one more thing. Ramona has to sign a waiver.”
“A waiver? She’s in prison. How can she be a good judge of character?”
“It’s still her kid.”
“I don’t care. She’s the most useless person I’ve ever met.”
“Victoria! Leave her alone!” Mr. Gatteau shouted from the living room.
Little Alex screamed. Still, Mrs. Gatteau had to get in the last word.
“Well, she is useless.”
…and that was the end of the conversation as Portia shooed her mother away. She plucked Alex out of his crib again and bounced him on her chest. Not long after Mrs. Gatteau returned upstairs, Alex went quiet. Portia gently set him in his crib. Darren motioned to Portia. She turned off the light and went to bed. She was glad it was finally over. Unfortunately, that was just the conversation; the adoption process, on the other hand, looked to be far from over.
Portia went through the rest of the week without mentioning or thinking about ‘The Penny Issue’. Instead, she focused on work until Sunday.
Sunday was Phoebe’s day of redemption. The Gatteaus dressed up in their Sunday best and went to church as a semi-unified group.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t perfect. The more Phoebe bragged about her ‘new missionary position’, the more Portia stewed inside. It was a happy accident for Portia that Phoebe didn’t even know her blunder. She sincerely hoped that Phoebe used those very words in front of a group of church women. That ought to be fun.
As they entered the church, Portia hissed into Phoebe’s ear.
“I’m sort of surprised you haven’t spontaneously combusted into flames.”
“Shut it before I knock the snot out of your nose,” spat Phoebe.
Portia snickered to herself as the minister greeted them in the lobby outside the chapel. Heaven knew these two were a load of work, even for a whole flock of angels, but that was what angels were for anyway.
They headed to their specially reserved seats in the first pew. The minister approached the When the minister finally took a break for church notes, Portia cooled her jets and Phoebe got her chance in the spotlight again.
“Phoebe Gatteau? Can you stand up for the parishioners so they can see you?”
Phoebe rose to her feet and took a mild applause as the minister invited her to the podium next to him.
“Phoebe has just joined our flock as the new Youth Choir Director. She has performed with gold-medal winning ensembles and sung the national anthem at several baseball parks throughout Pennsylvania.”
“Several?” Portia whispered to her father.
“Shhhh.”
“She lied on her resume for a church job? Oh my God.”
“And you? Taking the Lord’s name in vain? In his house?”
“Did you hear her talking about her ‘misionary position’? In church? Come on.”
Mrs. Gatteau exhaled loud enough for Phoebe to hear up front as well as Portia a few seats down.
“We are all going to hell,” he muttered to himself.
Portia quieted down as her sister returned to their pew. However, that would not be the last word on this, either.
.