“The alarm wasn’t supposed to go off yet,” my tired mind told me as I took in the sight of my old-fashioned digital alarm clock on the side of the bed and realized it was only 3:12 A.M. I had tried to be one of those people who could make do with having just their watch or their phone by the side of her bed, but my failing eyesight had made that impossible. Hence, frugality mixing with pride, I had succumbed to the siren song of my old alarm clock, which I’d found by spending time rummaging through the old unpacked moving boxes still in the garage. They’d been there since Adam and I had initially parted ways nearly twenty years ago and should’ve been thrown out a year after I moved into this place. I hadn’t bothered because thinking about the split brought up painful memories, even after all this time. Gradually, I realized that the music wasn’t coming from the clock radio but rather “Eleanor Rigby” was blaring from my cellphone, which was charging on my nightstand next to the clock as usual. My niece, Ellie, had laughingly chosen this song for her ringtone. Ellie? Why on earth would Ellie be calling at 3 A.M. on a Tuesday? Concerned and fully awake, I grabbed my phone and croaked out a greeting. “Auntie Shan? I’m in trouble and I can’t call my mom and dad.” The tears in her voice went straight to my heart. I made a noise into the phone, temporarily unable to form words, and she kept talking. “I was in a wreck tonight. Nobody got hurt, but I could not call my parents. Auntie Shan—“ she lowered her voice as though she feared someone was listening on her end—“I’d just finished a beer when I left Emily’s house, &nbsp;the cop said he could smell it on my breath, but I’m not drunk at all. I don’t know what to do.” Her words propelled me to a standing position immediately. “Stop talking right now,” I ordered. The law training I’d had but never used, having opted for a job in public relations after finishing law school, kicked in. “Do not say one more word, not to me or anyone else. You haven’t spoken to the police?” She sounded impatient when she replied, “Auntie, I watch all the cop shows on TV. That’s why I’m calling you. They said to tell you I’m going to be held in Spruce Township’s Police Department. Right now, he’s letting me use my own phone on the side of the road since I’m only eighteen. The cop is actually a nice guy, and I guess he feels sorry for me. Can you come? “I’m on my way. Please tell me you didn’t take a breathalyzer test?” I asked, unable to mask my anxiety. “Please. I do watch TV on occasion. And Auntie, I promise… it was only one beer, and it was a light beer at that.” Thanks to her answer, I had stopped shaking and formed some plans by the time I had dressed in jeans and a blouse and grabbed my keys to meet up with her. ***When I got to the Spruce Township Police Station and asked to see Ellie, I was a bit shocked at how accommodating they were. As mentioned previously, I studied law but never practiced. Even if I’d taken the bar exam and gone into practice, I certainly hadn’t ever had any intention of practicing criminal law even as I’d studied; I would’ve done some sort of corporate or financial law. I knew the basics, though, and I had done some last-minute cramming on DUI processes before coming to the station. I am not her attorney. I am her auntie. I kept repeating those words in my head to ensure that I didn’t do anything foolish and get either of us into trouble. It’s a good thing Ellie had already turned eighteen because she not only had the foresight to list me as her emergency contact on all of her necessary paperwork in life—something we’d discussed briefly when she’d made the decision—but she wasn’t required to call a parent. Although my many nieces and nephews knew they could always all me at any time, Ellie was the first that I knew of to make me her emergency contact. She had done so with the blessing of her mom—my sister, Lynne, telling her something like, “Honestly, Mom, Auntie Shan won’t freak out and lose her shit if I’m hurt or in an accident. She can keep her act together in a crisis, so let her deal with the ugly stuff and then call you when it’s safe.” I’m sure Lynne had acquiesced to her desire thinking it would never be tested. I wondered if that’s why Ellie had chosen to call me in these circumstances instead of calling her mom, though. Was it because of her assertation that I wouldn’t my shit? I was going to prove her right and keep it together, but if she thought she wasn’t going to catch hell for doing something stupid, she had another thing coming. Ellie was probably the closest I’d ever come to having a child of my own, and I was loaded for bear as they showed me into the conference room where she sat—scared, alone, and defiant. In fact, the look on her face reminded me of the one she’d worn the time I’d caught her dumping water down my heating vents. At the time, she’d been supposedly having a tea party with the stuffed animals that filled my spare bedroom back when she’d been four and a frequent overnight visitor at the house I had bought by myself after Adam and I divorced. I could never stay mad at Ellie for long, so I directed my fury toward the officer in the room, to whom I handed my business card as he stood to greet me. “Listen, Office Ramirez. I’m not Ellie’s legal counsel—if it turns out she needs an attorney, she’s going to have to hire one. However, I did attend law school and haven’t taken the bar exam.” I simply omitted the fact that I never planned to take it, either. My life was pretty damn good working in public relations for a big financial firm. “We both know that, at eighteen, Ellie had the right to have one beer at a gathering in a private residence. She wasn’t driving under the influence, given that she shows no signs of being anything but sober. If she was drunk you’d need to prove it to even charge her. The only reason we’re here is because you, as the arresting officer, smelled alcohol on her breath and decided to bring her in. So please charge her or release her so we can go home and get some sleep.” I smiled at him in what I hoped was a charming manner, glad that I’d taken time to apply some of my long-wearing lipstick and waterproof mascara—the only makeup I ever bothered with—before I’d left my house. In the end, they didn’t charge Ellie, but I did convince her to call her mom. It hadn’t been easy, but she eventually saw the good sense in it. If she was going to be charged, she would need an attorney. We’d prevented her from being charged, and the officers had chosen not to get the necessary warrant in the middle of the night to require her to provide a blood sample to prove intoxication. This showed to all involved that she did not appear intoxicated enough to have caused a wreck, which wasn’t her fault anyway thanks to the guy who’d run a red light and plowed into her front fender. Because I was reassured that Ellie hadn’t been under the influence when she’d had her fender bender, I knew she’d be okay with her parents. They were good and fair people, so they wouldn’t unfairly punish Ellie for drinking, even though she wasn’t old enough to do so legally. Her car was drivable, but Lynne didn’t particularly want her to drive it until their mechanic had looked it over. I felt like she was being overly cautious, but I’d learned the hard way many years ago not to overstep my bounds too often with my nieces and nephews. It seems they all adored me, and I was everyone’s favorite Auntie, but that was most likely because I was the only one who’d never had children of my own and could still think like a teenager, rather than the parent, or potential parent, of one. I’m not necessarily saying that was a good thing, so it was time to let Lynne and her husband, Matt, step in and take over. Suddenly, that thought made me sad and I was anxious for Lynne to arrive and take over for me. There was something to be said for only doing the fun parts of parenting. It was true, I reasoned, that my siblings and their spouses would never have to “cover” for one of my kids the way I covered for theirs. Ellie’s call was not the first middle-of-the-night call I had received from my eight siblings’ many offspring over the years. There were also lots of other truths about being in my forties without a partner or kids of my own to care for. I was only responsible for myself. I never had to walk the floors at night with sick children. I never had to put up with a partner who didn’t want to pitch in and do his fair share. Nobody spent my earnings but me. I could (and often did) travel at a moment’s notice. And, to the benefit of all my siblings and their spouses as well, I was around to talk sense into their kids when they needed advice, which happened more frequently than anyone would like to admit. I grinned to myself as I headed off to the coffee shop to pick up extra caffeine on my way into the office. Alarms weren’t supposed to go off at 3:12 in the morning on Tuesday mornings, but when that cell phone rang, my kiddos knew that I would be there if they needed their cool Auntie. My day hadn’t even started, and I felt a sense of accomplishment. Now it was time to go slay dragons at the mutual fund management office where I had worked the past twelve years since I’d finished law school. That’s when things began to unravel. I sat down at my desk and checked my voicemail. “Ms. Berger, this is Officer Ramirez from the Spruce Township Police Department—we met earlier this morning when your niece, Ellie Hanson was in. I wonder if you could call or stop back in at your convenience. There seems to be some confusion down here as to whether or not you are Ms. Hanson’s legal counsel, and my Sergeant would like for me to get the paperwork corrected as quickly as possible.” He left his number and disconnected, and my good mood evaporated. I had told him right up front that I was not Ellie’s lawyer because I had never taken the bar exam. I was not going to be charged with practicing law without a license, even for Ellie. I dialed the police station and waited for Ramirez to pick up the call, becoming more annoyed as each second of hold music ticked past. Finally, a man claiming to be Ramirez picked up and barked, “Ramirez,” into the phone, causing my last good nerve to snap in half. Still, I was raised to be polite to authority figures, so polite I would be. “This is Shannon Berger, returning your call.” I left it at that—I wasn’t going to jog his memory as to why he had called to annoy me. “Ah, Ms. Berger, thanks for calling me back.” I may have been imagining it, but he sounded a bit embarrassed about having to bother me, so I tried to tamper down my annoyance. “I feel a bit silly asking for clarification on this, but I’m having trouble understanding my own notes. I remember that you told me you’re not acting as Ellie’s attorney on this, but my notes seem to imply that you went to law school…” his voice trailed off before he continued. “They don’t say when that was or if you are currently in school or…” he trailed off before he recovered and continued with, “and my Sarge kind of insisted that I contact you to get some clarification on it. Since your niece was never charged with anything, I’d like to wrap up the paperwork and get it all filed away properly.” I began to see what he was getting at, and it made me furious. “So, just because I’m not a twenty-two-year-old, I can’t be a law student, is that what I’m hearing?” I was steaming. “I will tell you this one more time, sir. I went to law school part-time while I was working in finance full time. I graduated twelve years ago with the understanding that I would practice corporate or financial law, but then got a job doing PR right out of school. I loved it so much that I decided not to pursue a career in practicing law. Odds are that, even if I had taken the bar, I wouldn’t have been much help to Ellie today since I hadn’t ever planned to practice criminal law anyway. Does that answer your questions, Office Ramirez?” Even I was surprised at how bitter the question sounded. Why did I sound so bitter when just five minutes ago I was waxing poetic about how great my life was? Ramirez let out a short laugh before he responded. “Well, yes, that actually makes so much sense—I thought I was losing my mind. Look, I’m going to put all my cards out on the table here. My sergeant did want clarification, but I had to satisfy my own curiosity, too. I couldn’t figure out why a young girl like that would call her auntie instead of her mom if the aunt wasn’t a lawyer. I know it’s none of my business, but you seemed like you knew what you were talking about in there and I just couldn’t figure it out. So, if nothing else you got Sarge off my back and solved a mystery for me on a personal level.” “How so?” I couldn’t help my curiosity. “Well, since I have two teenage daughters who live in Texas and I’m forever trying to figure out what’s going through their minds as my ex and I try to get them raised.” Surprised at this candid and silly admission, I let out my own brief laugh before I laid into him. “Well, I’m so glad it was worth disrupting my day further for your peace of mind. Can I answer any other questions for you? Solve the mystery of Area 51? Tell you how the Pyramids were built in ancient Egypt or anything like that?” I was glad to see the caffeine had started to make its way into my bloodstream and begun to restore my sharp sense of humor, or I may have ripped the poor guy a new one for trying to flirt with me when I was sleep deprived. I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, “How about over dinner Friday evening?” &nbsp;“Friday evening? It’s Tuesday morning, and you couldn’t wait an hour to call me after I left the police station to get in touch with me. You’re a study in contradictions, Ramirez,” I teased. “Hey,” he protested. “I had to act fast on the counsel thing under my Sarge’s orders. Plus, I happen to know we were both up half the night last night, and while I can’t speak for you, I for one need my beauty sleep. Sound like you can’t wait to see me, though, so I’m taking this as a yes?” I laughed outright. “Ramirez, what’s your first name? I don’t typically call my dates by their last name, and I have too much work to do to chat on the phone like a teenager all day or wait for you to tell me on Friday.” “It’s Joe,” he said, “and I’m going to need your address so I can pick you up at six Friday. I want to hear all about what you do all day stuck behind a desk while I’m out on the streets putting my life on the line.” Was he serious? I decided to test the waters. “While you’re out on the mean streets of Spruce Township arresting little girls for getting into wrecks that other people cause, I’m slaying dragons for an investment firm—dealing with a bunch of their PR problems so the workers feel safe saving for their eventual retirement from the grind. Helping the economy. Helping people feel comfortable investing. Things like that.” If I sounded cocky, it was with reason. I was proud of what I did; the seismic change in retirement planning over the past fifty years had shifted much of the responsibility onto the worker to do his own investing because pensions were a thing of the past in most industries. Did I imagine it, or was there a tinge of respect in his voice when he said, “Oh, we’re going to have a good time Friday night, I can tell. I’ll let you get back to it, Shannon. See you Friday at six.” We hung up, and I went back to slaying dragons.

Slaying Dragons

trevadthomas

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Slaying Dragons

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Treva D Thomas

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