Page 66 of All the Beautiful Things
“You’ve been on parole for almost a full year.”
“I have.” Eleven months and four days, but who was counting. I stared at the file like it could bite me. Ruin me. Change me.
She opened the folder and slid a piece of paper in my direction.
I kept my gaze on her, too afraid to look down. My chicken turned into a cold, heavy rock in my stomach.
“What is it?”
“I took the liberty to modify the conditions of your parole. Reduced them.” She tried to smile but it wobbled.
A cold rush of air collapsed over me like a heavy blanket. “What?” I breathed out in total, utter shock.
She nodded toward the paper. “Look.”
I blinked at her. Her words all made sense, just not the order they were in.
“You modified my parole conditions?”
“Well within my right, I just had to get it approved. Look,” she said again, and this time, the encouraging smile made me listen.
The paper shook in my hands and I placed it on the table, smoothing it down unnecessarily.
I scanned it. A lot of legal jargon I’d have to read more thoroughly but by the time it was done I’d have to read it all over anyway. It had blurred in my vision while reading and I reached up to wipe away tears.
“You extended my travel limit.” My head was shaking. My limbs turned to jelly.
“And ended your requirement to attend AA as well as your alcohol restriction.”
“Why?” I could barely speak the word. My voice had gone scratchy.
“Because you were a teenager and it was an accident. And like I said, even in Illinois, your punishment was stricter than most at your age. You’ve paid, Lilly. And then some, I imagine.”
I forgot how to speak as I cried, tears probably dripping into my food and all over my paperwork.
I’d paid my dues. I’d done my time. What had David once said to me? I told him I’d be punished every day for the rest of my life, because Josh was gone.Then that’s your penance if you wish to carry it. Why bear more?
Somehow, I kept forgetting… it was okay for good things to happen to me. It was okay to live from outside the umbrella of my past.
They were such small things. But I was twenty-five years old and now allowed to try a glass of wine if I wanted.
And my travel? I wasn’t stupid. That limit now encompassed Chicago. I could go home if I wanted.
See my parents instead of sending them a letter. Force them to look me in the eye and kick me out again. Did I want to torture myself with that possibility? Not anytime soon, but now, because of Ellen, the possibilities were endless.
“No driving,” I said, swallowing tears and sniffing back more.
“Not yet. I’m not capable of that one due to your conviction.” She said it like an apology but one wasn’t needed. “You’re doing well, have a safe home, a good job. You’re working to better your life and move on from your past. That’s our goal for all parolees and you’ve done it all with minimal help. You should be proud of that.”
Except I owed so much to the Valentines because without them…. I shook the thought out of my head. It didn’t matter, I had help. I still did the work.
“Thank you,” I said, chin wobbling again as more emotion overtook me. “Thank you so much.”
* * *
As difficult as it was,I somehow managed to finish my dinner with Ellen, and we talked more about David’s diagnosis. Knowing he wouldn’t want it public information, I asked her to keep it quiet and knew she could be trusted. Her sorrow was almost as deep as mine at hearing it.
And when she left, she turned and hugged me. The first time she’d ever done it, giving me a squeeze and motherly pat on the back. “Keep up the great work, Lilly. You’ll do well for yourself, someday, I know it.”
