“Hi, this is Dr. Jill Montrose from the Los Angeles correctional facility. I wanted to call because your mother was arrested tonight for selling illicit drugs and driving while intoxicated. She caused an accident where several people involved unfortunately passed, and we believe she overdosed right before being taken in by the cops. She’s stable now, but she’ll be in our care for the night. Her sentence is probably going to be for life, and I wanted to call because you’re her emergency contact. If you want to come see her—”
“My sister.” I’m shocked and horrified by my mother, but I immediately shut her out. I completely lost every hope I had for her when this doctor started speaking. And I’m tired, so tired of this all. Now all I care about is keeping Sailor safe.
“I believe we have a team headed to her house right now to put her in foster care for the night. Subsequently —”
“No, I’ll be there.”
“Ma’am, I don’t have any authority on this matter. You’ll have to—”
“Well, I don’t care what authority you do or don’t have. Tell the cops I’m on the way to her. I’m boarding a flight right now and will be there to pick her up.”
“Ms. Summers, I—”
“It’s San Giovanni. You can tell the cops that Mrs. and Mr. San Giovanni will be coming to take her home.” I hang up before she can say another word, and Tito is already turning down the hill quicker than before, tires squealing around the bend.
“We’re going to get Sailor?” He asks, not surprised because we’ve had this conversation too many times. We would have taken her in much sooner if it hadn’t been for my mother’s resistance.
“Yep.” I nod, and he continues to speed towards our private airport.
We’re listed as legal guardians already. It was the only way the court would let my mother keep caring for her after her last relapse.
It was a small dark cloud on the horizon of an otherwise perfect day.
We offered to fly them both out here for the wedding, but I know my mother. She didn’t come because she didn’t want us to do what I intended to do. We were going to ask her to get help at a facility nearby while we cared for Sailor.
She could have visited any time, be able to maybe see some real change in her life, and still get to raise Sailor in the end. The problem is, she’s an addict. And we couldn’t reason with her, no matter how reasonable we were being.
All we have to do now is prove our connection to her. We pull through the gates of the airport, and one of our pilots on duty follows us out to the runway. After we make a quick entrance into the plane, we take flight, zooming quickly to our destination.
The entire flight, Tito holds me in his arms, and I hold him back just as tightly. We have no hesitancy, knowing we are choosing to raise my sister as our own. I don’t need to ask him to understand how he feels because we love each other. And we love Sailor.
The flight is longer than I would have liked it to be, and when we arrive, we’ve not slept a wink. It's the middle of the afternoon in sunny LA, and I’m beginning to remember why I definitely never want to come back here.
“She spent the entire night in foster care,” I say as we rush to the car.
“It’s okay. We’ll bring her home.” He kisses my forehead as we sit close together in the back seat. Van is driving us; he came all the way out here on short notice to do so.
It's silent as usual, and though we haven’t seen him in a while, there’s a comfort in the car that tells us he’s happy we’re here. We wind through LA quicker than Van normally drives up until we’re at the foster care home that Vince got the address for an hour before we landed. The cops meet us out front, and together we walk to the front door, still in our wedding clothes, exhausted and processing this bittersweet reunion.
“All you have to do is sign these papers, legitimizing your rights as primary legal guardians, and we’ll let you all get some rest.” One of the cops hands us pens, and we sign the paperwork on the wall outside before they knock. A dog barks, and a few children run to the door. It swings open, and an older woman with peppered hair and thick glasses answers the door.
“She’s right here.” She bends down with a grunt, picking up Sailor, who’s sobbing as she hands her over to the cops. Tito squeezes my hand as I take a step forward, and they hand her to me. She continues to keep her eyes shut, and she can’t see that I have her, that ill never let her go or put her in harm's way ever again.
“Sailor,” I whisper, and she continues to cry. Tito steps up to us, wrapping his arms around us until she calms down, rubbing her eyes as they flutter open. Her mouth parts in shock when she realizes who’s here for her. Who will always be here for her.
“Sissy?!” She squeals and snuggles up to me tightly.
“We’re here to take you home,” I whisper as a tear rolls down my cheek that Tito catches before it falls.
“Home?”
“Italy,” Tito whispers, a voice filled with wonder. Her mouth parts even wider into an ‘O,’ and she looks between us, tears still dampening her soft cheeks. Tito and I wipe them away at the same time, smiling at one another as we do this.
“Would you like that? To come home with Sissy and Tito?” Her face grows serious as she studies ours.
“Mommy left.” I nod.
“I don’t want to go back there.” She shakes her head.