A FAMILY SECRET (standard:other, 24612 words) [1/3] show all parts
Author: Kenneth Nash	Updated: Nov 09 2006	Views/Reads: 3281/2472	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A story of how a family secret influenced a young woman's decisions in life.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

pointed towards the blue sky laced with fluffy white clouds. “I think 
it looks like the little lamb I saw at the farm the other day.” 
answered Adrienne. It was one of their favorite pastimes. 

The summers in Virginia are hot and humid. But, Adrienne loved the
outdoors. She could smell the aroma of the freshly mowed lawns; feel 
the warm sun on her face, and the mild wind that blew across the 
Rivianna River. She loved living in Nicholson Manor. But especially, 
she loved Miss Sophia. 

Sophia, an old black woman, had come to live with the Nicholson family
over thirty years ago. She cleaned the house, did the shopping, 
prepared meals, and what she liked best about her duties ... took care 
of the children. 

The housekeeper-cook-nanny was a short, bosomy, woman with silver-gray
hair done up in a bun. No one knew how old she was and Miss Sophia 
wasn't telling! Her tongue could cut like a knife, but her heart was as 
soft as marshmallow. 

Miss Sophia was, to Adrienne's way of thinking, the best cook in
Virginia, if not in the whole wide world! She enjoyed the family 
suppers that featured pot roast, rolls, brown gravy, potatoes, Cole 
slaw and sweet potato pie. Occasionally, there would be ox-tail stew 
prepared as only Miss Sophia could make it. 

Yvette complained at times about the food having too much cholesterol or
“bad” carbs. “Now, missus ‘Vette,” the cook would reply, “ye ain't got 
a thang to wurry about, why, with a figure like y'all got?” Yvette 
would chuckle and say, “that is exactly what I am concerned about 
Sophia!” 

Adrienne always looked forward to the springtime. The short cold days of
winter making way for days that were longer and warmer. She couldn't 
wait for the trees to blossom, the red maples and dogwoods interspersed 
among the mountain magnolias that lined the street she lived on. 

Although she could socialize in the upper class circles, Adrienne felt
drawn to the social class of those less fortunate as well. Many of her 
friends were students living on food stamps and welfare checks. 

She was sixteen when she began dating. Her mother was concerned that she
spent a good deal of time with friends that were” below her”. “Adrienne 
honey,” Yvette would exhort, “you can fall in love with a rich man as 
well as a poor one.” “Mom, don't even start!” thought the young girl. 

After graduating from Charlottesville High School, Adrienne enrolled at
the University of Virginia. Her brother, Andrew, had graduated a year 
ago and was working at the bank. 

While waiting for classes to start in the fall, she took a summer job
with McElroy Insurance Company as a receptionist. 

Adrienne had dated a few guys in high school, but none had an influence
on her like the attractive Lonnie Garrison. After turning down several 
“dinner dates” she finally consented. Lonnie was three years older than 
Adrienne, his good looks and adventurous nature were enough to sway the 
seventeen year old. She felt intoxicated in his presence. 

“How could you let this happen?” shouted Phillip. “I can't believe
you've disregarded all that we taught you!” “Do you even know who the 
father is?” “Yes, I know, and I am sorry I know!” thought the 
frightened teenager. 

Lonnie had not called her after that third date. She made several
attempts to locate him, but the phone was disconnected. She went to his 
apartment only to find it vacant. 

The old clapboard building could use a coat of paint, and weeds had
grown up in the yard where grass had once been. Some of the apartments 
had windows cracked, if not broken out completely. Adrienne noticed the 
old Ford truck sitting to the left of the building, rusting away with 
time. 

She rang the bell under the sign that said, “Manager.” 

“No, I don't know where he moved to,” the woman with the dirty blonde
hair answered, “he just up and moved out.” A cigarette dangled from her 
lips as she spoke. She removed it, flicked it in the yard, and eyed 
Adrienne suspiciously. “You ain't one of his girlfriends are you? He 
had so many at his apartment, but none of ‘em was dressed up like you. 
They usually wore shorts and halters or them hip hugger jeans,” drawled 
the middle aged woman in the frayed housecoat. 

Adrienne, choking back the tears, did not respond to the woman's
question. She turned and slowly walked to her car as the door to the 
manager's office slammed shut. 

After Adrienne missed “her time” for the second month in a row, she got
scared. She needed to see a doctor. “I can't go to Doctor Fairchild; he 
is our family physician. He is the only Dr. I have ever gone to. I 
would just die if he knew I was pregnant,” thought the teenager. 

Anxiously, she searched the Waynesboro phone book for a physician,
scheduled the appointment, and then drove 30 miles. The doctor, she 
couldn't even remember his name, confirmed her worst fear. “Young lady, 
you are pregnant,” he said smiling. 

“How am I ever going to tell mom and dad? I cannot even tell my best
friend, Amanda,” she thought ruefully. 

As she broke the news to her parents, she knew what was coming. Her
father would be furious, her mother shocked and expressionless, as the 
color drained from her face. 

Adrienne loved her mother, but she worshipped her father. The last thing
she wanted to do was disappoint or shame him. She reflected back to the 
time that she had seen the disappointment in his soft brown eyes when 
she brought home her report card from her third year in school. Instead 
of all A's, there was the B. “Daddy didn't scold me, he just said, 
Honey, I know you can do better”, thought Adrienne. This was different; 
she couldn't change what was done now. 

The young woman was desperate for a solution to the worst problem she
had ever faced. Such a tragic mistake she had made. Her plans for 
college were no longer an option. She felt alienated from her family 
and friends. The man she had loved and trusted had deserted her. “How 
could she ever tell anyone?” As bad as she felt for herself she was 
more concerned about the reputation of her father and mother in the 
community. 

Phillip and Yvette discussed their options and made a decision. The
contacted Yvette's older sister and reluctantly explained the situation 
they were in. Marie lived in Lynchburg, almost 300 miles from 
Charlottesville. Marie and Thomas Newberry, both now in their late 
fifties. had never had children and they were fond of Adrienne. As a 
child she had spent some time with them during the summer months. And 
there was the home for unwed mothers located there. 

It was a tearful and painful goodbye for the Nicholson family as
Adrienne boarded the bus bound for a future of uncertainty. 

(Part Two) 

It was a cool crisp morning as the Armstrong's arrived at Lynchburgh
Regional Airport. It was a special day filled with excitement and 
anticipation. Michael and Michelle had tried for almost six years to 
have a child. 

Mike had been at work when the phone call came. “Mrs. Armstrong, we have
a newborn baby girl for you and your husband.”  The lady from the 
adoption agency had said that the baby was very healthy and had been 
released from the hospital after being checked closely by the staff 
pediatrician. “Yes, you may pick her up at your earliest convenience.” 

“Honey, make reservations for the next flight to Lynchburg!” Mike
shouted his voice full of excitement. 

The flight from Garland, Texas to Lynchburg, Virginia seemed to take
forever. All Mike and Michelle could talk about was that precious baby 
girl awaiting her new parents. Yes, Janelle LeAnn was perfect for her, 
named after her two grandmothers. 

Ms. Thomason, from the adoption agency, was waiting at the airport to
take them to see Janelle. “Oh, Mike, she is even more beautiful than I 
ever imagined!” whispered Michelle as she held her daughter for the 
first time. Of course, Mike was beaming like the proud daddy he was. 
The Armstrong's had wanted a baby girl and the nursery was ready for 
her with pink and purple décor. 

It was truly a dream come true! 

As the months and years passed, Janelle amused her parents. She was an
intelligent, beautiful child. Her hair was golden-brown with natural 
curls and eyes that were sparkling blue and full of mischief. 

When Mike and Michelle felt that Janelle was old enough to understand,
they told her that she was an adopted child. “Honey, you are a special 
person. We waited on you for a long time and it was our choice to make 
you our own daughter.” 

When she was about eight or nine, she would lay on the lawn looking up
at the clouds. She could imagine walking on them and would try to 
determine what the shapes looked like. That was one of her favorite 
things to do. 

Janelle's parents loved, and provided for her. She couldn't ask for a
better mom and dad, she loved them so, yet, there were times that she 
wondered about her natural parents. “Do I look like my mother? What was 
my father like? Where do they live now? Why did they give me away?” she 
would ponder. 

The few months after she left the hospital was emotionally painful,
almost unbearable at times, for Adrienne.  Aunt Marie and Uncle Thomas 
had invited her to stay with them for as long as she wanted. “There are 
several good colleges and universities here in Lynchburg. Why, there is 
even a woman's college here,” said her aunt. Adrienne loved her aunt 
and uncle; they had been with her throughout the months of pregnancy, 
during delivery, and tried to help with the depression that followed 
after she left the hospital and came to live with them. But, she wanted 
to go back home. Phillip and Yvette had made several trips to 
Lynchburg, called every week, and assured her that she would be 
welcomed back to Nicholson Manor when she was ready to come home. 

Adrienne arrived at Charlottesville with mixed emotions. She was happy
to see Miss Sophia again, and couldn't wait for the sweet potato pie 
that she knew was baking in the oven. It had been almost a year since 
she boarded the bus to go to the “home”. She had missed the magnolia, 
dogwood, and red maples that lined the street in front of the only 
place she ever called home. 

She was looking forward to seeing Amanda again. They had talked by phone
and Adrienne had, somehow, mustered the courage to tell her best friend 
all that had happened. Amanda was understanding and tried to encourage 
her friend that was like a sister to her. 

But, underneath the happy exterior, there was a dread, a fear, which
diminished the joy of coming back home. 

After Adrienne left, Phillip and Yvette just stated, without
explanation, that she had gone to stay with her aunt and uncle for a 
few months before entering the University of Virginia. Even on her 
return, nothing was ever said about “the baby”. It was as though it had 
never happened. A closely guarded family secret. The skeleton in the 
Nicholson closet that would never be exposed. 

“What will I say if asked, about my going away? Is there anyone outside
the family that knows? Can I be sure that Amanda didn't let something 
slip out?” These were some of the fears that faced Adrienne. 

Much to her delight, no one questioned, or seemed to care, about her
moving away for almost a year. Things were beginning to take on a 
semblance of normalcy in her life. 

There were days she didn't think about “her baby” and then there were
days when that was about all she thought of. “Giving my baby up for 
adoption was best for all concerned...I am sure she is in a good 
home...surely the adoption agency screens applicants closely...”she 
would reason with herself. At other times she would argue with herself. 
“If I would have just protested against mom and dads decision...If I 
could have been stronger and tried to raise her by myself...will the 
adoptive parents tell her she was adopted?...what will her reaction 
be?...will she hate me...I have to stop thinking about this -- what is 
done cannot be reversed”she would agonize in her mind. 

Adrienne enrolled in college the next fall semester. Life in college was
far different than that of her high school years. She poured herself 
into her studies. Her social life was a contrast to that of high 
school. She withdrew socially and emotionally, having no close friends 
with the exception of Amanda, who was, now, a year ahead of her in 
school. “Adrienne, you need to get out of the dorm, go on a date, do 
something!” complained Amanda.  Adrienne would just smile and say “No, 
I am just not ready for all that now.” It wasn't that she didn't have 
“offers”; there were several guys that begged her to go out with them. 
After all, she was one of the prettiest girls on campus. She would just 
smile and politely refuse. It was in her sophomore year that she began 
to be more sociable. But, she limited that to going with a group of 
students rather than a solo date. 

Adrienne, as long as she could remember, wanted to become a nurse. Her
father often said, “Adrienne, you could go a few more years of college 
and become a physician”. She had considered his advice and decided to 
go to med school upon completion of her college requirements. That was 
before she had the baby. Now she didn't think she could bear seeing the 
newborns in the hospital nursery each day. It would bring back the 
memories...the family secrets... the painful emotions.  She graduated 
with a master's degree just a few months short of her twenty-fifth 
birthday and was hired as a business consultant for a large firm in 
Richmond. 

The decision she had made years before, had changed her life and her
career. 

(Part Three) 

Often Michelle Armstrong would look at her only daughter and wonder what
she was thinking. Janelle would stare at something for the longest of 
times, not saying a word. She was nearing her thirteenth birthday. And, 
more was changing than that of becoming a young woman. Janelle, as a 
child, was often moody. But the moods quickly changed as she would 
become excited about something she was interested in, such as a friend 
spending the night, going to a movie, or ordering pizza. Now the moods 
lasted longer, and came with more frequency. When she spoke to Mike 
about it he would say, “She is just going through a phase, all 
pre-teens and teenagers do that!” But Michelle sensed it was more than 
that. Janelle would occasionally after a long silent spell quiz her 
about the adoption agency, had she met her “birthmother” and things 
like that. There was little she could say in answer to her daughter's 
questions. Her knowledge about her young daughter's natural family was 
very limited. She knew that Janelle's “mother” was a young girl in good 
health, and came from a well-to-do-family somewhere in Virginia. 

Michelle knew that in most cases the adoption agency had files
concerning parent and child sealed to protect all concerned. 

One time after Janelle had asked questions, Michelle asked “Would you
really like to know about her? Where she grew up? What her family was 
like?” Janelle responded with a shrug, “Nah, just wondering. If she 
didn't care about me, why should I care about her?” 

Family relationships in the Armstrong's house were becoming increasingly
strained. Janelle, nearly sixteen, was staying at “friends” more often 
than her parents liked. She always asked permission but, when denied 
she would go to her room and turn up the music real loud and pout. 

On one occasion she told Mike and Michelle she was going to a certain
friend's home but, went to a disco with some other teens. After the 
long “parents to daughter” talk, she sneaked out of her room and didn't 
return until early the next morning. 

The Armstrong's were at their wit's end and felt they were losing
control of their only daughter. Where had they failed? Had they not 
tried to give her everything possible a child would need or want? 

It just seemed that Janelle was searching for something they could not
provide for her. 

Just before her thirty-second birthday, Adrienne talked Amanda into
going riding with her. She had bought a beautiful Arabian stallion. She 
loved horses, and was an experienced rider.  Amanda's husband, Rob, 
sometimes rode with them. He spent most of that time kidding Adrienne 
about becoming an old spinster. Rob and Amanda seem to be more 
concerned about Adrienne's finding a husband than she did. She had been 
involved in a couple relationships over the years but just didn't find 
the one she wanted to commit to. The weather was perfect for riding. It 
was sunny, but not sweltering as it would be later in the summer 
months. Adrienne had purchased the ranch style home just west of 
Richmond. It had a comfortable old house that had been renovated, an 
old barn and even a garden spot. She had done some repairs to the barn 
and bought a horse to live in it. 

She usually rode the trail from her home across the small creek running
through her land to the mountain west where she would rest and then 
make the return trip. The ride was normally no longer than two hours. 

“Amanda, it sure is a nice day for a ride, huh? I wish Rob could have
joined us. I enjoy his company despite all the abuse I have to endure,” 
joked Adrienne. “Well, you know how Rob is when it comes to golf, 
everything else is second place. And yes, he sure loves to kid with 
you. I am so glad that you approved of him!” replied her best friend. 

Her Arabian seemed a little skittish all of a sudden. She hadn't had him
long enough to know all his mannerisms yet. Adrienne was a few feet in 
the lead as the trail narrowed to allow only single file riders. She 
felt Prince buck, then rear up. He was so strong and it happened fast. 
The last thing she remembered was slipping from the saddle. 

She heard the voices. “I think she is coming around now,” the male voice
said. “Oh! Thank God!” came the voice that she recognized as Amanda's. 
The voices seemed a long way off. “Am I having another nightmare? This 
one is different from the other ones. Where is the child, the little 
girl that comes running across the meadow, arms outstretched, her dark 
hair bouncing; then she falls but I cannot get to her? That is when I 
always wake up?” wondered Adrienne. 

Adrienne slowly opened her eyes. “Where am I?” She listened to the
distant chatter outside the room. She recognized the antiseptic smell 
of a hospital and the clanking sounds of food trays being delivered to 
patients down the hall. Her head hurt terribly. She reached up and felt 
the bandage wound around her aching head. Her left arm was in a heavy 
cast, and the right arm had two IV tubes in it! The last thing she 
could remember was putting the saddle on Prince. 

The male voice said quietly “Miss Nicholson, you are a very lucky woman.
You have a mild concussion from the fall, but there is no permanent 
brain damage.  I am Dr. Barnett.” She tried to focus her eyes on the 
figure leaning over the bed with the stethoscope around his neck. He 
was clad in a green scrub suit covered with a white lab coat. “This 
doctor is the most handsome man I have ever seen!” thought Adrienne. 
“Why am I having these thoughts? It must be the medication!” 

Dr. Barnett spoke again, “There are a couple friends of yours here that
have been pretty anxious about you. I will give them just a few 
minutes, and then you need to get some rest. I will check in on you 
soon.” With that he turned and strode out of the room. 

“Oh! Adrienne, we were so worried about you. Rob is here with me. We
both love you so much. Thank God you are going to be okay!” Amanda was 
talking ninety miles an hour! Rob came to her bed side, tried to say 
something but the words wouldn't come; he just patted her hand and 
leaned over and kissed her cheek. 

Adrienne couldn't remember what had happened. She wanted to know, but
more than that she wanted to sleep. As she was drifting off in sleep 
she heard the nurse tell Amanda and Rob that they could come back 
later. “Miss Nicholson needs to rest now.” 

The following day Amanda related the incident in detail. The Arabian had
been spooked by a snake, a Copperhead that was commonly found on the 
mountain trails in Virginia. Adrienne had been thrown from the saddle 
and struck her head on a large boulder near the trail. “Adrienne, I was 
so frightened. You were breathing but unconscious. I used my cell to 
call 9-1-1, and they airlifted you to the hospital. Dr. Barnett was the 
doctor on call at the emergency room. He checked you over, ordered 
x-rays, CT scans, and then put a cast on your broken arm. Rob met me 
here at the hospital and we waited, what seemed like eternity, until 
Dr. Barnett came out and told us you would be okay!” 

“Why can't I remember the ride? The last thing I remember was brushing
and saddling Prince. Oh my God! Prince! What happened to him? Did he 
run away? Did you find him?” asked the injured woman anxiously. 

“Whoa, slow down, one question at a time Missy” it was now Rob's turn to
talk. “First, Prince is fine; he is at home enjoying a large bucket of 
oats. He is a great horse. He didn't run and was trying to sniff your 
face as if to say he was sorry for bucking you off! Second question: 
Dr. Barnett explained to us that with a concussion there is often 
short-time memory loss but, that usually reverses itself over time.” 

During the next few days, as she was recovering, Dr. Barnett made
frequent visits to check Adrienne's progress. One of the night nurses 
commented on the “medical interest” the doctor had taken with her. “Is 
it not common for a doctor to follow a patient closely after an 
accident such as mine?” asked Adrienne. The middle aged nurse smiled 
and said, “Michael Barnett is one of the best docs we have, and 
according to his charting you are doing exceptionally well. I have just 
noticed that his visits are more frequent than with most of his other 
patients.” “He being so handsome, and not married... why, just about 
any nurse in this hospital would trade places with you.” 

Could it be more than a professional interest? He is a very handsome
man. A little over six feet I would guess, from his appearance he must 
work out and run regularly. That is something we have in common. Not 
married... huh? I find his dark brown hair, trimmed just above the 
collar, rather attractive and the slight graying at the temples gives 
him a distinguished  look. It also says something about his self 
esteem...not enough vanity to use hair color that some men do when they 
reach that age. His eyes are what draw attention to his face... steel 
gray, piercing, alert, when he is deep in thought while examining a 
patient yet, soft and compassionate when he is speaking to you. 
Adrienne! Why are you thinking these thoughts? It cannot be the 
medicine; it has been discontinued for days now!” 

The routine was nearly always the same -- up at 5:00 am, juice and one
cup of black coffee, and running by 5:30. He looked forward to the 
three mile run each morning. It gave him time to think about his daily 
schedule: check in at the office, make rounds at the hospital, back to 
the office for his appointments if he had no surgeries scheduled. 

It wasn't unusual to think about some of his patients in the hospital
during his morning run. Especially those just out of surgery, or in 
critical condition. For the past few days his mind was on the patient 
in 1214. Adrienne, uh, Miss Nicholson was recuperating just fine. But 
his thoughts kept returning to her. She was a beautiful woman with a 
kind, intelligent face. Even shortly after the tragic accident that 
caused her such pain, he could sense her character. A strong, 
determined, person that asked point blank questions and required honest 
straightforward answers. 

Inwardly he admitted that he had given more than a cursory look at her
medical history particularly statistics that did not pertain to medical 
treatment. She was thirty-two years old, no children, employed as 
senior business consultant with the largest consulting firm in 
Virginia. Her marital status was marked “single”. Michael found that 
unusual. A woman still single at age 32? Divorced yes, but single? That 
is somewhat irregular in this day and time! 

Michael had been married once. That lasted for the better part of three
years. He and Susan were just out of medical school. The whirlwind 
courtship consisted of three months, and then the huge wedding. “What 
happened to the magic, when did we start to not love each other 
anymore? I still respect Susan; she is a fine doctor, but our careers 
took off in different directions. I decided to go into general surgery 
and family practice. She specialized in pediatrics” reflected Michael 
as he began his rounds at Memorial Regional Medical Center. 

Doctor Michael Barnett had been divorced for four years now. There had
been times that he thought about meeting someone, having children, 
doing all the parental things... but only briefly. “Been there...done 
that... don't want to do it again” was his usual comment to colleagues 
that tried to help Michael with his social life. 

It is not to say that he withdrew altogether from the social scene.
There were occasional dinner dates, a movie, the opera, or sometimes a 
ball game. He would be amused at the way some of the nurses vied for 
his attention at the different nurses stations at MRMC. Most of the 
nurses, or female docs, his age were married. It was the younger, 
single, or divorced ones that often flirted with him. In his quiet, 
polite manner, he would just smile and become very involved in the 
chart before him. 

“But the patient, Adrienne Nicholson, in room 1214 was different. Close
to his age, three years younger, beautiful, intelligent, and unmarried. 
Why has she never been married? Sexual preference? I doubt that, but 
one never knows. Emotional pain from a previous relationship? He would 
probably never know the answers to all the questions about the patient 
in room 1214,” thought Doctor Michael Barnett. 

(Part Four) 

The phone rang waking Michelle out of her sleep. Without turning on the
light she reached over and drowsily took the phone from the hook. “Yes 
this is Ms. Armstrong. Yes, I have a daughter named Janelle. She is 
where!?” She glanced at the digital clock as she turned on the light. 
It was 11:30 pm. Michelle shook her husband out of his sleep. “Uh? I 
didn't hear the alarm. What time is it?” asked Mike sleepily. “Mike! 
Wake up! That was the police, they have Janelle downtown. We have to go 
get her. Get up!” yelled Michelle as she began to dress. 

As they drove across Garland to the police station, they both had
questions and no answers. “Did the officer say why she was there?” 
asked her husband.  Michele responded, “She only said that Janelle was 
being held until we arrived, and then they would let us know what was 
going on.” In a tone of voice that was out of character for Mike, he 
said sternly, “Just wait ‘till I get my hands on her. She is supposed 
to be in her room asleep. She went to bed at 8:30, and must have 
sneaked out to be with those riffraff kids she calls “friends!” 
Michelle knew the outburst from her husband was one of disappointment 
and fear rather than anger. He loved his daughter, but there were times 
that he did not know what to say, or do, to help her. 

They introduced themselves to the young female officer at the desk. “She
is in the holding cell just through the double doors. I will have to 
buzz you through.” Mike spoke up, “Before we see her, can you tell us 
why you are holding our daughter?” The officer glanced down at a sheet 
of paper as she said, “she is being charged with shoplifting, and minor 
in possession of alcohol.” 

“My God”, thought Michelle, “why would she do a thing like that?” 

Janelle sat on the cot inside a small cell. She was the only one in the
room. Mike and Michelle could not read the expression on her face or 
what was going through her young mind. She just sat there, saying 
nothing. 

“Please, Mom, don't even start” she broke in as Michelle started to ask
her why in the world she would do something like that. 

The arresting officer, a big man with graying red hair that unlocked the
cell door spoke up just as Mike, red faced, the muscles in his jaw 
twitching, took a step towards his daughter. The officer could see that 
the girl's father had finally reached the breaking point; he had seen 
it often enough in his almost twenty years on the force. “Mr. 
Armstrong, now is not the time. You are going to take Janelle home with 
you tonight. She has been issued a citation, and will go before the 
Juvenile Court in a few days. I cannot say what her sentence will be, 
but from past experience she will probably have to pay a fine, or, do 
some community service, and be on supervised probation for a time that 
will be decided by the Judge.” “I suggest that y'all go home, get some 
sleep, and discuss it in the morning”. 

Before they left the police station, Mike asked Officer Howard, the
arresting officer, if he could tell him the other kids that were with 
Janelle. The policeman could only disclose that there were two other 
females the same age as Janelle, the girls had consumed some beer and, 
on a dare, each had stolen a pack of cigarettes from the Quik-Stop and 
Shop on Main street about 9:45pm. The night manager and store clerk 
detained them until he arrived five minutes later. 

(Part Five) 

Janelle awoke the next morning dreading the “family meeting”.  She had
experienced them before.  “Why can't they just leave me alone? Always 
asking me about where I have been, who have I been with, when will you 
be home, did you do your  home work.?” “They have never liked any of my 
friends just because they dress different from the kids they think I 
should look like and run around with!” “I am sixteen... well; I will be 
in a few months.” She thought about “the meeting” with her folks. 

Mike and Michelle tried to find out the details of last night's event.
Janelle refused to talk about it. She didn't seem to show any remorse 
for her actions that caused her to be arrested. Their only child, the 
child that they loved and wanted to help, sat there stone-faced, 
listened to their questions refusing to answer. Janelle stood up, 
glared at her parents and screamed, “I hate you!” then stormed out to 
the dining room. They heard her bedroom door slam and the loud music 
begin. 

“Where had we gone wrong?” “What could we have done different?” “Who is
this rebellious teenager living in our home?” “What caused the change 
from the sweet, lovable, happy little girl of a few years ago?” What 
was she searching for that she hasn't been able to find?” Michael and 
Michelle Armstrong had never faced such hopeless, helpless emotions. 
They were struck with the thought that they may never know the answers 
to the unanswered questions. 

After a two day stay in the hospital Dr. Barnett said he felt that
Adrienne was ready to go home. Early that morning he came in, checked 
her, and signed the discharge papers. “Miss Nicholson, I am releasing 
you from the hospital with orders to go home where you can get some 
real rest. I think you need to take a couple weeks off work. I will 
give you a statement requesting that if you like.” “That won't be 
necessary Doctor,” replied Adrienne. “But thank you anyway.” Dr. 
Barnett told her to come to his office in a couple days and he would 
check the cast on her arm. She could call his office and make an 
appointment. 

(to be continued) 


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