When I awoke the next morning after a restless night, to no big surprise I still had no answers. Margret called me early. I told her I had no idea when Mike and Ashley would arrive, and she asked me to phone her when they did. She wanted to question Ashley herself before the girl heard anything from me. Margret reiterated that Mike was being kicked out of the house until further notice, and under no circumstances was he to even step foot inside. If he forced his way in, I had better be out the back door with the children and calling her to make arrangements for somewhere else to live. Otherwise, I was putting the family in jeopardy, and CPS would have no alternative but to take all the children away from me.

Ashley called me at eleven to say they were on their way home. She sounded like the usual Ashley, snippy and confident, saying that Mike was alright. No, I couldn't speak with him. No, he didn’t know much about the current family crisis, and I didn’t enlighten her about the seriousness of the charges. They had gone to a softball board meeting the night before which ended very late, and with the chaos of the day before, Ashley had asked if they could stay in the hotel. She sounded as if she was protecting her father. I bit my tongue to keep from making any angry accusations.

Sure enough, about thirty minutes later the car appeared on the road. Bags were packed for each child and standing at the breakfast room door in the event we had to make a getaway. The kids thought of it as a big adventure. I sure wish I could have shared their innocence.

I met Mike and Ashley at the door. Luck was with me, and she entered first as I placed myself in his path. Child Protective Services, I told him gravely, had come out to see me the day before, apparently investigating the rape charges as well as allegations that he’d molested Ashley. I was under very strict instructions to not let him into the house or the children would be placed in foster homes. He could not stay here.

Mike gave me a weird look, but his eyes stayed dark and unfocused. Sort of hurt and surprised, sort of resigned, he turned away. I suggested that he take the motorhome over to his parents’ house for a couple of days. Certainly this would blow over soon, I said, and I felt living there would satisfy CPS until we straightened the problem out. Ashley glared at me angrily to see her father forbidden entrance and ran to her room.

I cautioned the children to stay in the house while I went out to speak to Mike. He was climbing in his car, and when I asked where he was going, he said he’d take the motorhome somewhere, but he needed groceries. He was going to the market. I was kind of sorry for him, he was acting so sad. But how sorry can you be for a man who had rebuffed warnings from family members about what Ashley was capable of? Everyone, including Lachae at CPS, had told us that she could get us in trouble, and look what was happening.

As instructed, I called Margret to tell her that Ashley was home. She said she’d be out that very afternoon to speak with her and asked what Mike had decided to do. I said it was uncertain, but we had a motorhome he could use in the meantime. Margret cautioned that he had to be completely off our property and asked when she might have a chance to interview him? Feeling strangely defensive, I said that Mike would get in touch with her.

I had the odd sense of a family unraveling as the afternoon progressed. I was worried about Mike, thinking that if he needed a reason to end his life, CPS had provided it. He might have been ignoring the kids and me all summer and fall, but he loved us. Leaving Ashley and me together, as hard as he worked in past months to keep us separated, must have worried him too, and to be truthful, I wasn’t thrilled myself about being in charge and keeping her under control.

Mike was still at the grocery store when Margret and Dena came out to speak to Ashley. I admonished her to tell the truth, no matter who got hurt. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to be present, and while they talked I put stuff in the motorhome that I thought Mike would need- clothing, food from our pantry and his medicines.

Margret asked to talk to me when she finished with Ashley. Her opinion was that Ashley, who had been quite hostile and retracted everything she’d ever said about the relationship, was shielding Mike. No, her father had never given her beer. Yes, he had pornography on his computer, but the only way she saw it was by snooping in his office when she shouldn’t have been. He did let her smoke but hadn’t asked her to dress provocatively to earn cigarettes, and he certainly hadn’t touched her inappropriately. And finally, he had not attempted to rape her two nights before.

****TTFN,

Julie