Part Fourteen- Confessions/Class C

4247 Maplewood Dr.

Thursday, February 8, 2001

10:30 AM

"Hey there," Amanda greeted Lee at the front door with a kiss. "I didn't expect
you back quite so soon."

"It didn't take as long as I expected either," Lee said. "Where's Jenna?"

"Upstairs getting ready--mother and I are going to take her shopping for fresh
school supplies--maybe even a new backpack--hopefully that will make her feel a
little more enthusiastic about going back on Monday."

"Hopefully," Lee agreed.

"So?" Amanda's dark eyes peered into his. "How did it go with Dr. Pfaff?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess," Lee led his wife over to the sofa where
they both sat down. He kept his voice low--even if Jenna was upstairs he didn't
want to risk her overhearing. "We talked about the nightmares that I've been
having."

"And what did he have to say?"

"Same thing you said, basically." As he spoke, Lee took Amanda's hand in his,
running his thumb back and forth over the top. "That my guilt over what happened
to Jenna could hurt her--even lead her to blame herself for what
happened--Amanda, that's the last thing I want to do."

"Believe me, I know that."

"But I did hurt her, Amanda," Lee said. "That night--when I went to speak to her
after my dream--the pain in her face, in her eyes was--" his voice broke off.
Amanda squeezed his hand.

"Well you've always been a very protective father--it's only natural that you
feel responsible for not being able to stop this. But what happened--Lee, it
wasn't your fault."

"I just can't shake this feeling that there must have been something that I
missed--something that I could've done to stop this." Lee's fist clenched. "How
did I miss the signs?"

"That's something I wonder about too," Amanda confessed. "I keep remembering the
party that night, meeting that man--I had a bad feeling about him then. It was
just the way he looked at Jenna's photograph, you know, and the things he
said--but I guess I just pushed it into the back of my mind."

"You showed him Jenna's photo--you showed everyone that photo--you couldn't have
possibly known what he would do, Amanda--no one could've guessed that."

"No, maybe not," Amanda said. "But the thing is, we can't keep looking back--we
wish that it hadn't happened to her--but it did. And now we need to deal with it
and focus on helping her."

"That's the most important thing--but we still don't know exactly what did
happen, and until we do, dealing with it is going to be tricky."

"You mean that she might've been--" Amanda's voice broke off and Lee could see
the fear in her eyes.

Lee nodded, his expression grim. "That's what I mean."

"Jenna's been making progress in therapy--hopefully she'll get to a place where
she feels safe enough to open up to us. You'll keep going with her, right?"

"Yeah--until she feels strong enough to go on her own--in the meantime--I think
I'm going to keep seeing Pfaff myself."

Amanda's eyes widened with surprise. "For how long?"

"Dr. Pfaff said that we can start with a few sessions," Lee said. "I'm
not--exactly crazy about the idea, Amanda--but if it can stop this guilt--and
these nightmares--I think that it'll be worth it. I want to be able to help
Jenna--I don't want to be the source of any more pain for her."

"You won't." Amanda pulled him close. "We're all going to get through this,
Lee--we'll all come through and we'll be stronger."

"I'm ready to go when you are, Amanda." Dotty walked into the family room, purse
in hand. "Where's Jenna? I thought she'd be down by now."

"I'm sure she'll be here soon, mother," Amanda said.

Lee stood. "I'll go--see what's holding her up."

SMK SMK SMK SMK

"Jenna?" Lee walked into his daughter's bedroom. "Come on, your mother and
grandmother are waiting downstairs--" his voice faded away as he saw Jenna
staring at herself in her bedroom mirror--an open bottle of foundation beside
her on the dresser.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. "You know the rules--the makeup is
for the house and special occasions only, Jenna--clean that stuff off."

Then Jenna turned to look at him--comprehension dawned as Lee saw her face.

"Oh," he said. "Munchkin, it's just--"

"It looks bad, doesn't it?" Jenna said. "I swear, all I wanted to do was cover
it up a little."

"No, it doesn't look bad, exactly--" Lee knew he was walking an emotional
minefield here--he struggled to choose his words carefully. "It's just--trying
to cover it up with all this actually makes it more noticeable--here." He took
a tissue and handed it to her. "You look just fine without this--I promise."

Jenna took the tissue, staring down at it. Suddenly she crushed it in her hand
and threw it across the room.

"Jenna--"

"I don't look fine," she spat out. "I have a scar, and it looks awful--I look
awful, and ugly--everyone will stare at me, they'll know what happened--you can
say anything you want to, Dad, but I don't look fine--and I'll never look fine
again." Jenna flounced down on her bed, her hands over her face. "So just
leave, okay?" her voice was muffled. "I'm not going anyplace looking like this."

"Jenna." Lee sat down beside her--she moved away, keeping her hands over her
face--he could hear how hard she was breathing. "Jenna Leigh Stetson, look at me
right now."

"Why?"

"Because--I said so, that's why." When his daughter didn't reply, Lee touched
her shoulder. "Come on, don't be this way--"

Slowly she removed her hands, looking at him--he could see tears filling her
eyes, threatening to fall.

"You listen to me," Lee said. "You are a beautiful girl--and I'm not just saying
that because I'm your father, I'm saying it because it's true--inside and out,
you are beautiful. I don't want to hear you call yourself ugly again."

Jenna's hand touched her forehead. "But this." Her voice quavered. "I mean, it's
just--"

"How about this?" Lee took her hand, guiding it to his upper left temple, just
below the hairline. "Feel that? That was about fifteen stitches."

Jenna frowned as she touched his forehead. "I can hardly see it now--what
happened?"

"It was a car accident--it happened when you were little." Actually car chase
might have been more accurate, but Lee knew he couldn't tell her about that. "It
used to look just like yours, but it faded over time--and here--look at this."
He rolled up his left sleeve. "This is more recent--only about a year old."

Jenna looked down at the thin white line that ran from his wrist to his elbow.
"That's funny--I don't remember you hurting your arm."

"Ahh...well you wouldn't really remember, munchkin--" Lee said, thinking fast.
"It happened while you were at summer camp and we didn't want to worry you."

"It must have been a lot of stitches," Jenna said. "How did it happen?"

"Just a little accident with a knife." Lee prayed that she wouldn't ask any
more questions. "The point I'm trying to make is that scars will fade--to you it
might seem like forever, Jenna--but they will--everything will get better with
time."

"I sure hope so."

He pulled her into a hug. "It will," he said firmly. "Want to tell me about when
you got your scar?" he asked, keeping his voice as calm and neutral as possible.
"I know it's scary--but I'm here, you're safe right here--it might make you feel
better to get it off your chest."

"Oh dad, I don't know--"

"Just try--remember what Dr. Pfaff said--if you get nervous just focus on your
breathing."

"I'll try." Jenna was silent for a few moments. "I got out of the house--I hid
behind some bushes in front of the house--then I called you on his cell phone."

"I remember," Lee said, recalling the overwhelming relief he'd felt at hearing
his daughter's voice--followed by the fear when the phone had suddenly cut off.
"What then?"

"He--he found me," Jenna said. "He had the gun again--told me to stand up and go
back inside the house."

Again? Part of Lee wanted to ask when Gary had used the gun before, but if he
pressed her too hard she might freeze on him.

"Did you go back inside the house?" he asked her.

"No--not right away, anyhow. I had a fork that I had saved from before--I
thought that maybe if I was fast enough I could get out of there. So I pretended
to call out to someone and when he turned around I stabbed him in the arm with
the fork and pushed him down--then I ran as fast as I could."

Lee had heard part of that story the night of the rescue--but until now he
hadn't known all the details. He felt a sudden surge of pride. "Jenna, do you
know how incredibly brave that was?"

"I didn't feel all that brave," Jenna said. "Anyway, I ran down the street--I
thought maybe I could find a payphone or go to someone's house and call from
there but he knocked into the back of me and I fell on my chest--it hurt so
bad--for a moment I couldn't breathe and then--" her breathing quickened
"--and--and then he--"

"Concentrate on your breathing," Lee told her. "Really slow, Jenna--just in and
out." He waited a little while until he felt her calm down. "What did he do
after that?"

"He put the gun to the back of my head--told me to get up or he'd blow it
off--told me to nod if I understood and I did. He jammed my arm up behind my
back and marched me back inside."

Lee's grip tightened slightly around his daughter--part of him wanting to march
down to the prison, find Johnston and beat him to a bloody pulp--but while that
might make Lee feel a hell of a lot better, it wouldn't actually help Jenna at
all. "So, you went back inside the house and then--

As Lee spoke his own memories came to the surface:

Running into the house--the blood on the floor--Suzanne Johnston lying
there--her sweater covered with her own blood--Gary had shot her, taking Jenna--

"--needed to take her somewhere--to be punished for what she did."

Those were the words that Suzanne had used. Had Jenna witnessed the shooting?
And what else had happened there?

"Jenna?" he asked again. "What happened next?"

"I don't know."

"Munchkin, if it's scary--just remember that I'm here and you're safe, okay?"

"Dad, it's not that--I can't--I mean I guess he must have hit me on the
head--with the gun, but I can't remember what happened."

Lee heard the anxiety in Jenna's voice. "It's all right," he said. "That's
perfectly normal."

"It is?" Jenna asked. "Really?"

"Sure it is," he told her, masking his own growing anxiety. He gave her a kiss
on the forehead and then stood. "Let's go downstairs, huh? Your mom sent me up
here to get you--she's probably going to send a search party after us if we keep
her waiting too much longer."