Persuaded – Chapter XXI

Chani

The brief encounter with Effi buzzed around Chani’s head all that evening like a persistent mosquito. What did that fleeting moment of kindness even mean? Was it just his native menschlichkeit and gallantry coming through, or was it possible to read more into it? And if so, what? Forgiveness? She barely dared hope it might be interest.

After tossing and turning in her bed, she finally told herself all this ruminating was getting her nowhere. The muscles in her legs still ached from the long walk. She got up and took an Aleve, and finally managed to fall asleep.

But the next morning she felt tired and bleary-eyed at work, and it took two strong coffees from the office Keurig machine to lift the fog. She looked at the day’s schedule: paperwork, a session with the Lonner family, lunch, a session with the case worker for a little girl named Stephanie and her family, a Zoom session with a family in Edison, and supervision toward the end of the day with Tammy.

The Lonners were rather typical: The parents were in the middle of an acrimonious divorce, with the father refusing to contribute support while the mother, an undocumented Israeli who babysat for income, could barely pay the rent. The three children were traumatized by their parents’ fighting and mother’s stress. This would be a matter of helping Mom obtain food stamps and financial help, working with school counselors, arranging tutoring help, and setting up some therapy sessions. The Edison family had a teen who was about to get kicked out of school, and she had to get acquainted with the parents to begin to understand what the dynamics were in that situation, and how she and the agency could help.

And then there was seven-year-old Stephanie, whose single mom had a mild cognitive disability and lived with her elderly parents. The school had reported them to child welfare when a roach was found in her lunch box, and a social worker had been to the house and reported that it was messy and unhygienic. She had been sent back to teach the adults better housekeeping principles with a warning that if the child was living in unsanitary conditions, she would be removed from the home.

Chani had met Stephanie for a private session, and found her to be a happy child with little awareness that her situation was sub-optimal. Chani detected no hesitation or duplicity when she prattled about her Nana and Pop-Pop and Mommy, and when asked, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live in a different house?” Stephanie responded emphatically, “No! I like my own house!” Knowing how it felt to be uprooted from her home—as had happened to her when her mother died and her father sent her to board at a high school—Chani strongly resisted taking the child out of the home.

But now a newbie social worker, Ettel, had done another home visit to check in, and she plopped herself into a chair in Chani’s office to deliver a scathing report. “They left folded laundry on top of the dressers instead of in the drawers, and the coffee table was piled with newspapers and books!” she said. “I saw some dirty dishes still in the sink. That home is not in compliance with the agency’s requests. I think the child should be removed!”

Chani appraised the self-righteous young woman, who herself looked rather unkempt in her baggy clothing, scuffed shoes, and unruly haircut. Was the ink even dry on her diploma? What did this young woman’s own apartment look like, that would give her the right to pass judgment?

“Are those things that put the child at risk?” she asked, careful to keep her tone moderate. “As long as the clothes are clean, is it so bad that they weren’t put in drawers? Honestly, my own family sometimes leaves newspapers lying around and dishes in the sink.” (She did not add, “Thank G-d Lucia comes in every morning and makes the mess disappear, because nobody in my house ever wants to do it.”)

“It’s such a poor place for a child!” Ettel said. “The house is tiny and dark! The mom is clearly not 100 percent, and the grandparents try to give support, but they’re old!”

“How old?”

Ettel consulted her papers. “They’re…wow, they’re 60 and 64!”

Mrs. Rosner was 58, Chani reflected, and she was far from doddering. “Ettel,” she said gently, “That is not so old in today’s world. Do they have health issues?”

“The grandfather has diabetes.”

“And they manage to care for it properly?”

“I think so. He takes medications every day.”

“Listen, Ettel,” Chani said, “As far as I can tell, Stephanie loves her family, and kids that age usually don’t care if their houses aren’t so nice. I think we would do her more damage than good if we took her away from the people she loves.”

Ettel frowned. “I already made my recommendation,” she protested.

What was it Lieba had said yesterday about having backbone? “That’s okay,” she said mildly but firmly. “I’ll discuss it with Tammy when we meet today.”

Later in the day, during her supervision, she reiterated her opinion that Stephanie should absolutely not be removed from her home, and Tammy was able to hear her opinion. “I think you’re right,” she said. “I’ll deal with Ettel. She’s young and just a little overenthusiastic, but she needs to see the emotional perspective as well as the material one.”

She put on a pair of reading glasses to leaf through the folder of notes Chani had handed her, absently running her hand through her bangs. “Now what is this proposal you just sent me? Bereaved kids?”

Chani flushed. “Well, you know I was a bereaved kid myself,” she said, a little embarrassed to get so personal. “I think I would have benefited from support back then, but there was nothing. My father sent us all away to boarding schools because he was having such a hard time himself. It’s a miracle we all didn’t go into a major depression, although honestly, I became pretty withdrawn for a long time. And it’s only through my studies that I became aware I’d been suppressing all kinds of other feelings, like abandonment and anger.

“So I thought there must be other children or teens who could benefit from the kind of help I never got. I was even thinking I could eventually build my Psy.D. thesis around it. We could put out a call through the agency and I would run a weekly group, for starters. Do you think it’s a worthwhile idea?”

Tammy rewarded her with a brilliant smile. “I think it’s an amazing idea,” she said. “We would just have to get approval and make sure there’s funding. Can you put together a formal proposal? But get it in by the end of next week, because we have a Board meeting coming up!”

Chani groaned. “No pressure!” she said, but she was beaming from the approbation. “I’ll do my best. This is something I do care about a lot, and I’m ready to fight for it.” She thought again about Lieba’s remark that she had no backbone, and mentally thumbed her nose at her.

She put in many extra hours that week drawing up a proposal, with Tammy’s help, and by the end of the week was more than ready for a quiet Shabbos. They were again invited to Mindy’s in-laws for lunch, but thankfully, this week the Krauss-Weinberg clan had not been invited. Chani hoped they had gone off somewhere—anywhere! (The farther the better!) As for Sunday, Chezky and Mindy were talking about doing a family day trip somewhere, maybe Lakewood or Deal. That would get them far away from the Avenue K house and its inhabitants.

To be continued.