Chapter Five -- Stephanie Gets Caught
I fucked up big time. The only neutral territory in our home is the kitchen. Stephanie made her own food. "Mom cooks horrid food, how can you eat it?" She had said more than once. It was just rebellion. Steph's macaroni and cheese dinners were gross to look at much less compare to the good food, like soft tacos and home made salsa that Sarah prepared.
Steph and I were in the kitchen alone, both trying to rummage the refrigerator. It was my job to go to the grocery store and buy our food; so that was the one civil subject we could discuss.
"I'm out of chocolate milk, Tommy, when are you going to get some?"
"Later today," I said. "Hey Stephanie, were you watching your mother and me earlier?" Oh, shit, the words weren't out my mouth before I knew I'd made a mistake.
"Why the fuck would I ever watch ass sex between two old people? How damn stupid do you think I am! You're just an 80 year old man hot to fuck my mother."
I got red in the face for a moment and just thought, "How are you going to survive kid if you can't lie better than this?" Stephanie had great features, but she was 40 pounds overweight with a face covered with pimples.
The next day, I called Rich, my psychologist friend who guided me through my divorce and the loss of Priscilla. We talked a bit and he suggested that I bring in Sarah and Stephanie later in the week. I told him that I doubted Steph would come. "Just try," he said.
"Hey Steph, your mom and I would like you to join us while we talk with an old friend of mine, a psychologist. It will just take an hour and a half out of your day."
"Fuck NO. My mother has taken me to so many of those assholes. Why the hell should I do this for YOU?"
We had taken away every privilege. No cell phone, no car use, no Internet, almost no use of the land line phone, no allowance, no shopping. All that was left was food and shelter. I suggested I'd arrange to get her cell phone back if she came.
"Fuck you; just turn my phone back on NOW." Soon pans were flying, doors slamming and then Sarah came out and joined the fracas.
"You'll never get that cell phone back. Why can't you do one damn thing I ask? Is it too much? How the hell did you turn from my lovely daughter into such a BITCH?"
This was just one of the epitaphs that flew between them. I just stood there, quietly talking to Sarah, "Let it go. You'd have better luck talking to the refrigerator..."
A few days later, Sarah and I met at Rich's office. He obviously approved of Sarah after just a few words between them. "Tell me about Stephanie, Tommy."
"She is a royal pain in the ass. She constantly loses her temper; commits minor theft; tells off her mother and me. Lies. Refuses to go to school even when I offer her a daily allowance for attendance," I said.
"Tommy, don't let her get between us. I love you so much. My mom will pay for an apartment for Steph. We'll just move her out."
Rich had a panicked look on his face.
"No, there is no way I will be part of her getting any kind of reward for this behavior. I refuse to let her come between us," I said animatedly.
Rich went on to ask a bunch of questions about Stephanie and our life at home. He was filling out a form. At the top it said "Oppositional Defiant Disorder Diagnosis." I'd never heard that term. After he was done, he looked up and said, "Stephanie shows all of the behaviors that define Oppositional Defiant Disorder. The good news is; this is a treatable condition. I worked four years at a treatment facility for young people suffering from it and felt we had excellent success. Stephanie needs in patient treatment that could last six months."
"Other psychologists have diagnosed Steph as Bi-Polar or Manic Depressive. She refused to take any medications that were prescribed in the past." Sarah said.
"Maybe, but I doubt it. There is no manic cycle with Stephanie as you have described her to me. She's just an angry, screwed up kid." Rich responded.
"Well my Mom could pay for it," Sarah responded. I think, to some extent, she just wanted Stephanie out of the house. Who could blame her?
"There's an excellent treatment center, just 30 miles from here. I've recommended it several times with good success. The setting is great. It looks like a small college campus set in the countryside. The kids get outside everyday. That facility will require that you both visit twice a week for family treatment."
"No problem," I said, holding Sarah's hand.
"Then we just have one major problem," Rich said.
"What?" Sarah responded.
"Either Stephanie must sign a document committing herself or a judge must order her commitment to the center."
"Well, we know she won't sign. And her probation for theft ended a year ago," Stephanie said. It was the first I had heard of this.
"It's going to be difficult to get a judge to commit her without more to go on," Rich said.
Our session ended shortly thereafter and Sarah and I walked out arm in arm.
Sarah contacted the treatment center and began what became a friendship with one of admittance staff. She discussed the center with the entire family, even Stephanie's aloof father.
One day, while paying my bills over the Internet, I noticed my balance was lower than I expected. Checking more closely, there was a check for $500 cashed just a few days ago. I hardly ever write checks any more and was immediately suspicious. The site provided digital images. I looked at the check, and there it was. Stephanie had gotten hold of one of my checks. The kid had stupidly made it out to herself!
I printed a copy and excused myself to go out. But, I went straight to the police department. It must have been near shift change, all I could find was an old sergeant who offered to help me. I told him about the check and showed it to him.
"I've seen this check before," the sergeant said incredulously. He went on. Stephanie had been caught stealing four bottles of wine. She was brought in and booked. She appealed that the only way she could make bail was to cash this check. "I let her sit in the holding tank for a few hours and then took her to the check cashing service just down the block. If you press charges, she will be stuck in jail for about 30 days."
"Why so long?" I asked.
"In Florida, you cannot post bail for a misdemeanor if you are already out on bail. She will have to wait until she is arraigned. That can take up to 30 days. Then, since it's a check for bail that she forged, the judge will likely set a high bail for the forgery. Unless she can afford a good attorney, repay you and come up with a thousand dollar bail, she is probably stuck in jail until her trial and that could be 90 days or more."
"Hey, her mother and I have been trying to get her into the treatment center out on route 48. Maybe we can use this to get her to commit herself?" I said.
"That place is just a country club for rich kids caught breaking the law," the sergeant said, frowning.
"Look officer, you and I both know this is just the beginning of Stephanie's encounters with the law. What harm will it do to try this center?"
"How do you want to handle this?" the sergeant retorted.
"Let me make a few phone calls. I'll be back to you in few minutes." During the next half hour or so and a flurry of phone calls, Sarah and I had arranged for the entire family, representatives of the treatment center and the police to converge at the house at 8 AM the following morning.
The next morning I knocked on Stephanie's door. "The police are here for you," I said.
"Tell them to go away; I haven't done anything but sleep."
"There is a matter of check forgery," the sergeant yelled out. "And there won't be any bail this time."
There was some noise in her room. A few seconds later, another policeman and Steph's father brought her in the front door. She had gone out the window and tried to run.
The policeman put Steph in handcuffs and sat her on the sofa. She was surrounded by me, Sarah, two policemen, three people from the center, her grandmother and her father. Everyone she could appeal to for help.
Melanie, from the center spoke up. "Stephanie, it's your choice. You either agree to come with us to the center, for up to six months. Or go to jail, probably for a year."
Stephanie looked at her mother and pleaded. "I'd never let this happen to my daughter. You are so evil. You hate me."
