9
In the lobby, I was greeted by Amber, the victim liaison with whom I’d talked to on the phone. To my shock, she was painfully young.
How could someone that age handle such a heartbreaking job? She should be out in the world, enjoying all the goodness life had to offer, not stuck in a dreadful government office, listening to people relive their most tragic moments.
“How was your trip down to Texas?” Amber flashed a huge smile, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. All the young people these days had perfectly straight, white teeth. Salvador and I had spent a fortune on the girls’ teeth because there wasn’t anything we wouldn’t do for their success.
Once, the orthodontist asked if I’d considered getting some work done. At the time, we couldn’t afford it. Now that I could... was sixty-two too old to get braces? Was it even worth it? And why was I thinking about braces right now? Honestly, I needed to focus on my mission, not obsess over my crooked teeth.
I told Amber that my trip down to Texas was fine. We exchanged small talk about air travel and the weather. She asked about the Pacific Northwest because her fiancé was interested in hiking the Olympic National Forest.
I knew not to assume that just because she had a fiancé meant she was getting married soon. That was another thing about young people these days. They all had incredibly long engagements. When Salvador asked me to marry him, we’d sealed the deal at the courthouse a month later. Our divorce, on the other hand, seemed to go on forever.
Frustrated with myself, I pushed thoughts of Salvador and our marriage away. There was no reason to go down the path of memory lane. Our divorce had been final for over a decade. Last I heard, he had a serious girlfriend. Or maybe this girlfriend was now a fiancée. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t about to ask the girls.
With all these inconsequential thoughts pinging in my head, I followed Amber to a room weighed down by a heavy conference table.
“Have a seat anywhere. Can I get you a bottle of water or a cup of coffee?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine for now. Thank you.”
“If you change your mind, just ask.”
“I will.”
Sitting across from me, Amber set my file on the table. “As I explained on the phone, my job is to walk you through the process of meeting with the lead voter for the parole board. Her name is Ella Jones, and she should be here shortly. She might ask you some questions, but she’ll mostly focus on taking your statement.”
I nodded, familiar with the process from all the reading I’d done. Reading had always been my solace. In order to prepare for this meeting, I’d devoured several books and articles on what I could expect.
I knew, for instance, that I wouldn’t be meeting with the entire parole board like you often saw on TV. Instead, I’d only be talking to the lead voter who would then relay my sentiments to the others.
Amber smiled politely. “Do you have any questions for me about anything? The process or...”
“No, I don’t think so. You’ve been very helpful, Amber. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced at her phone. “Ella is here, so if you’re ready, I’ll go get her, and we can start the interview.”
My heart lurched. “I’m ready.”
“Okay.” She pushed back her chair and came to her feet. “Just remember that if at any time you need a break, we can take one.”
“All right.”
“And if you want that coffee, just say the word.”
“I will.”
With a smile, she walked out the door, leaving me alone. Wiping my palms on my slacks, I took a deep breath. Courage, strength, hope. Last year, my school hired a new principal who extolled the virtues of mantras. She encouraged each of us to choose a mantra for the school year. While Principal Gibson and I had our differences, I’d found creating mantras to be quite helpful.
Courage, strength, hope. I repeated. Courage, strength, hope.
The door to the conference room opened, and Amber entered followed by a woman in her early fifties with a stylish silver bob haircut. “Good morning, Mrs. Hermosa. I’m Ella.”
“Good morning.” I forced a smile, wishing I didn’t feel so nervous. It wasn’t as though they were going to quiz me or make me take a polygraph test over what happened that night.
I just had to give them my opinion regarding Eddie’s parole. Super easy. I’d always been good at giving my opinion, after all.
Ella sat across from me and glanced out the window at the clear blue sky. “I was hoping we’d get a little rain today, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”