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“I’m glad! I think it’s amazing what you’re doing. I’m sure Elise would be so proud of you and happy with what you’ve decided to do.”
“I know she would be. But I can’t take credit for the idea. Court is the one who truly put it in my head. This fundraising event will be the perfect way to kick off the foundation.”
The expression of pure excitement on his face makes me smile. Carter always looks happy, don’t get me wrong. But right now he looks… fulfilled, is the best word I can use to describe it.
“I can’t wait. It will be the perfect day.”
Carter searches my face, raising a brow as he studies me.
“All right, what’s wrong?”
I startle.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong!”
“Come on, Addy. Give me a little credit. Something is obviously bothering you.”
I sigh and look away. As much as I know I need to, I can’t say anything about the pregnancy test waiting at home. Carter frowns and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.
“Look, I know this thing with your dad is hard to deal with. I’m not even going to pretend to know what you could be feeling. But you can’t shut me out. I’m here for you, and I want to know everything that’s going through your mind.”
I blink and give him a weak smile before nodding. He’s assuming it’s about my dad and I’m not going to correct him, as much as I know that I should. I look down at my hands.
“Right. I know you’re right. It’s just. We’ve gone so long without him, but he’s always been there. Been available. Soon we won’t even have that. It’s just… I wish I had more time with him. Real time. Not just sitting across from him at a table in the prison visiting room.”
Carter pauses as the waiter puts our meals in front of us.
“You know, I was talking to my lawyer earlier about your dad’s situation.” My head snaps up as I look at him in alarm. “Look, maybe it wasn’t right. It’s your business, not mine. But he did give me some helpful information. He told me that sometimes in cases like this prisoners can be approved for a compassion care release. It’s not permanent, but for a day or two they can get out and spend time with their family. Maybe you should talk to the warden about that?”
I blink. Compassion care release? A huge grin spreads across my face.
“Oh, my God, you’re a genius!”
We finish our food and part ways -- him to do more work for the foundation and me to go to the prison.
“A compassionate care release?” the warden says, rubbing his chin as he stares at me. I look out the window behind him and sigh. Right after my visit with my dad I came up to talk to the warden.
It wasn’t easy to get him to see me. The receptionist and I went back and forth for fifteen minutes before the warden came out and told me to come in and stop harassing her.
I don’t think it was harassment, though. If she has just let me in the first time I asked, I wouldn’t have had to argue with her.
“Yes. His days are numbered, and we’ve gone so many years without him. My sister was six when he was sent to prison. She’s spent the last eleven years not spending any time with him. Even just one day with him would be better than nothing.” I take in a deep breath. “I just know that if we don’t take advantage of everything there is to offer, I’ll regret it. I’ll regret not letting my sister spend time with him when he barely has any left.”
The warden looks me over carefully, as if trying to decide if I’m telling the truth.
“Eleven years, huh? She’s close to graduating.”
“Yeah. She’ll be going to college next year. I haven’t… I haven’t even told her yet. About Dad.” I wipe away a stray tear. “I just don’t know how. She’ll be devastated. She cried for so long when he went away. She was so little she barely understood what was happening.”
“My daughter’s seventeen. Goes to Harrisford High. I couldn’t imagine.” The warden clears his throat. “If I was dying, I’d want to spend as much time as possible with her.”
We stare at each other. I’m sure he thinks that’s enough, but I need more. An actual confirmation.
“Warden?” I ask. He gives me a small smile.
“I can’t make promises; the decision isn’t truly up to me. But I will pass along the request to the Department of Corrections and give them my recommendation. He’s been a model prisoner during his time here. Hopefully, that will make them at least a little more lenient.”
I squeal and jump up.