Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,99
had a purpose. At least she’s had a good life.”
The guard, who usually brusquely whisked prisoners back to the jailhouse cell, waited patiently by George’s side. It seemed to Dani he understood that an innocent man had spent seventeen years behind bars and was entitled to the few extra minutes he needed.
George took Dani’s hand in his. “Thank you.” He didn’t need to say more. He nodded at the guard and was led out of the courtroom, back to a cell that had changed from a waiting room outside death’s door to a last step toward freedom.
As soon as her plane from Indiana landed at LaGuardia, Dani headed to Sunny with the news of her parents’ exoneration. The quiet in the apartment seemed out of place in the middle of Manhattan. Rachel had gone to sleep shortly after she’d arrived, and although Eric had chatted with her earlier, he’d retreated to his bedroom. It was just Dani and Sunny.
Dani had met with Sunny and her family several times since Melanie broke the disquieting news of her parentage. Up close, the differences between Rachel and the pictures Dani had seen of three-year old Angelina Calhoun were apparent. But the similarities were strong enough that she suspected they would be unsettling for George and Sallie, a stark reminder of the little girl they’d loved so dearly. If Sunny could let them into her life, perhaps seeing their granddaughter would give them a second chance to watch a child they loved as she grew up.
“It should take a week, no more, for George and Sallie’s release,” she told Sunny. Dani didn’t refer to them as her parents. Sunny wasn’t ready to embrace them as such.
“Where will they go then?”
“Back to Pennsylvania. Your grandmother still lives there. George is moving in with her. And Sallie, she’s moving into sort of a halfway house.”
“But why? Aren’t they still married?”
“Yes, but they’ve had no contact with each other during all those years in prison. They’ve both changed. It’s best for them to first adjust to their freedom. Then maybe they can try to re-connect with each other.”
Sunny stood and began pacing. She was a striking woman, but now her body looked caved in, as if it couldn’t bear the burden of the past week. “It’s my fault. I did this to them.” The tears she’d held back filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks.
Dani put her hands on Sunny’s shoulders and turned her so that they faced each other. “No, Sunny. It’s not your fault that you got sick. It’s not your fault that the hospital wouldn’t treat you. And it’s certainly not your fault that your parents left you alone in Minnesota.”
Sunny stopped pacing and stared at Dani. She looked like a frightened child, not the mother of a little girl. “I don’t know whether to hate myself for what happened to them or hate them for leaving me. I just can’t get my head around it. I don’t know what’s right for me to think.”
“There’s nothing ‘right’ for you to think. And there’s nothing ‘right’ for you to feel. Give yourself time. When you’re ready, if you want to meet them, I’ll take you there. Until then, just keep remembering that their decision allowed you to have all this,” Dani said, spreading her arms.
Sunny sat back on the couch. “Tell me, what are they like?”
For the next hour, Dani filled Sunny in on what George had told her about his and Sallie’s life, from the time they met in high school to the fateful decision to leave their daughter at the Mayo Clinic. “But most of all,” she finished, “George always struck me as very courageous and very strong. I didn’t spend much time with Sallie, so I can’t tell you as much about her.” She didn’t want Sunny to know the extent of Sallie’s damage from years of believing she and George had been responsible for Angelina’s death. That could come later.
After leaving Sunny, Dani stopped by the office to pick up some files. Her work had piled up over the past seven weeks. There were motions to file, briefs to write and letters to answer from inmates around the country, men and women claiming to be innocent and for whom HIPP was the last hope, the only hope.
Before she knew it, it was almost eight o’clock. She needed to go home. With any luck, she’d get there before the honeymoon hour. She’d lie on the couch and let Doug massage the