Comparison of Clinic Edit for Context
Opening scene edit.
Dusty would be mad. Jaelle hadn’t told him of her plans because she knew that, and she wasn’t even sure Bianca would show up. Besides, he wouldn’t have let her go.
Those first months in Houston, he wanted to know where she was and who she was talking to every minute of her day. It had been okay then, even though she’d lost her few friends, because she was just crazy about Dusty and excited at being part of a family. She just figured real families were protective. For now, she just looked out the car window and tried not to think about what would happen when she got home.
“You’ve never been to Jasper?” Bianca asked. “Pat didn’t take you there?”
Jaelle shook her head. “Pat said he had enough of restaurants and crowds when he was at work in Edmonton, and when he came to the ranch, he was right where he wanted to be. Most days he wanted to go riding to the lake or to check on the cattle, sometimes he went hunting with Dusty.”
“And your brother? He never took you for a day trip?”
“Not to Jasper. If he had to go in to Valemount or Prince George, he’d take me, but that was just for shopping. Sometimes we’d have lunch at McDonald’s or somewhere fast.”
“Jasper’s a neat place to visit. You’ll enjoy it.” Bianca offered her a friendly smile, then turned back to the road. “I’d go stir crazy being stuck on the ranch without a job. You must be strong to have stood it for so long.”
Strong? She wanted to become a strong person, and she thought she could, maybe. But living on the ranch for a year without even a peep was a sign she was weak. All those hours alone in her room, she dreamed of breaking out, but she’d turned over control of her own life to a man. Not Pat, although Pat wanted to turn her into someone she wasn’t and didn’t want to be. But he was at the ranch so little that she didn’t have to be afraid of him. No, it was Dusty.
We are family, he’d said. I’ll look after you. We’ll be a team. But they weren’t teammates. She was a player. He was the coach. They passed the turn-off that went south to Valemount and were heading east toward the Alberta border. It was the furthest she’s ever been from the ranch since she arrived. “Have you ever been to California?”
Bianca stole another look at her. “No. I grew up in Quebec. Easterners go to Florida, not California.”
“Me neither.” She sighed. “What’s in Jasper?”
“I thought we’d go to the Lodge, have some lunch, maybe do a short hike.”
“Hike?” She felt stupid. What had she imagined doing on a day trip in the Rocky Mountains with a female Canadian cop? This wasn’t Houston, where going out with friends meant a movie or hanging out at the mall, maybe seeing a band if there was one they could afford.
“Is that okay?” The cop obviously sensed Jaelle’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Sure.” She nodded so she wouldn’t seem like ungrateful, and said “Sounds great,” even though it didn’t. For the past year, she’d seen almost nothing but mountains and trees, and deer and moose and bears crossing the fields at the ranch. Now here they were, going to a park that was famous for its views of mountains and trees, deer and moose and bears. She honestly was ready for some concrete. But Bianca had been kind to her and that was important right now so she wasn’t about to show her disappointment.
“You and your brother didn’t grow up together?” Bianca said. “How did that happen?”
She shrugged. “Donno. I was a baby when I was put in foster care.”
“Does Dusty remember you?”
“He’s only four years older than me, so no. He says no.”
“He must have known he had a little sister. Did he search for you? How’d you manage to connect?”
“He was sitting next to me in the probation office and thought there was something familiar about me — you know, we’ve both got dark hair and eyes. He was sure we had the same background.”
“Background? You mean, parents.”
Shit. How could she answer so it wouldn’t sound stupid, so Bianca would stop asking questions about it. “No. Yes. Sort of. He’s pretty sure we had the same parents but we don’t have it in writing, exactly.”
“But you have the same last name, right?”
“Well, sort of. The DFPS — that’s the so-called Protective Services — their documents said my last name was Amante.”
“That’s a pretty name. The way you say it, it sounds Italian. In French, amante — the e at the end is silent — means lover. A female lover.” Bianca was quiet a moment, concentrating on passing a semi that had slowed down on a hill. “But his last name is Freeman. And you told the Sergeant your last name is Freeman, too. Didn’t he ask to see your ID?”
Jaelle looked out her window. Another mountain. More trees. “I’m pretty sure Dusty showed him my ID. It says Freeman.”
“So you changed your name to Freeman?”
“Dusty helped.” She could tell Bianca was looking at her, so she looked the other way, out her side window, until Bianca’s eyes were back on the road.
“So why were you on probation?”
Jaelle sighed. “Shoplifting, a teenage thing, all my friends were doing it.”
“And Dusty?”
“He stole something from a parked car.”
“Another teenage thing?”
“Sort of. He had this friend who was Romani. Gypsy, you know? They hung out together, did stuff, you know? This friend told him that it was okay for Romani to steal. God gave them the right, because a Romani blacksmith made the nails when Jesus was crucified, but he didn’t give them the nail that was supposed to go through Jesus’s heart.”
Bianca just nodded, looking ahead. Jaelle was talking too much. “I don’t believe it myself, because I didn’t grow up that way, but Dusty is sure we’re Romani, both of us.”
“I’m confused. He thinks your parents were Romani but that he might not really be your brother?”
“He is my brother, okay? I just didn’t grow up with the same last name. I don’t know. Anyway, about the Jesus thing, I guess it made them feel better about stealing stuff. The Romani people, I mean.” Jaelle needed to shut up now. “Okay, now you tell me something about you. You grew up in Quebec. Don’t they all speak French there?”
Mid-novel scene edit.
Dusty would be mad, Jaelle was sure of it. He would never let her go somewhere with a cop – that’s why she didn’t tell him about her plans. Besides, she wasn’t sure Bianca would show up. Why should she? Jaelle was nothing to Bianca.
So she was a little surprised when Bianca rolled up to the ranch house door in her little Subaru, trailing a cloud of dust behind her. Bianca gave her what looked like a friendly wave and a ‘hello,’ and ten minutes later, they were out on the paved county road, heading to Jasper.
“So you’ve never been to Jasper?” Bianca asked. “Pat never took you there?”
Jaelle shook her head. “Pat pretty much just wanted to stay at the ranch. He said he had enough of restaurants and crowds when he was in Edmonton, and when he came to the ranch, he was right where he wanted to be. Most days he wanted to ride out to the lake or check on the cattle. Sometimes he went hunting with Dusty.”
“Really. Was anyone else along with them?”
“Sure, different hands went with them, sometimes I’d go along. But I didn’t get out much.”
“And your brother? He never took you for a day trip?”
“Not to Jasper. If he had to go pick up stuff in Valemount or Prince George, he’d take me, sometimes. Usually after shopping we’d have lunch at McDonald’s or somewhere fast.”
“Jasper’s a neat place to visit. You’ll enjoy it.” Bianca offered her another one of those friendly smiles, then turned her eyes back to the road. “I’d go stir crazy being stuck on the ranch without a job. You must be a very strong person to have stood it for so long.”
Strong? She wanted to become a strong person, and she thought she could maybe do it someday. But living on the ranch for a year without rebelling in some way? That was weakness, not strength. All those hours alone in her room she dreamed of breaking out, being free, but she may as well admit it. She’d given up control of her own life to a man. Not Pat. Pat wanted to turn her into someone that she wasn’t and didn’t want to be, but he was gone so much he wasn’t scary. No, it was Dusty.
They passed the turn-off that went south to Valemount and were heading east toward the Alberta border. It was the furthest Jaelle had been from the ranch in a year. “Have you ever been to California?”
Bianca stole a look at her. “No. I grew up in Quebec. Easterners go to Florida, not California.”
“Me neither.” She sighed. “What’s in Jasper?”
“I thought we’d go to the Lodge, have some lunch, maybe do a short hike.”
“Hike?” She felt stupid. What had she imagined doing on a day trip in the Rocky Mountains with a female Canadian cop? Going out with her friends in Houston usually meant a movie or hanging out at the mall, maybe seeing a band if there was one they could afford. This wasn’t Houston. It wasn’t even America. Things were different here.
“Is that okay?”
“Sure.” She couldn’t afford to offend the first female friend she’d seen since she moved here. Even though Bianca wasn’t necessarily a friend, she was the closest Jaelle had gotten. “Sounds great.”
But it didn’t sound great. For the past year, she’d seen almost nothing but mountains and trees, and she’d often seen deer and moose and bears crossing the fields at the ranch. Now here they were, going to a park to look at mountains and trees, deer and moose and bear. She honestly was ready for concrete and city lights. But Bianca had been kind to her and that was more important right now.
That first time they’d talked, sitting outside the ranch house in Bianca’s car, they’d talked more about Pat. Now, on the road, Bianca started asking her questions about herself, like she was really getting to know her. What classes did you like in school? Why didn’t you graduate? Did you ever think about going to college? At first, Jaelle didn’t say much. But Bianca seemed to be really interested in her, and even suggested she was selling herself short. It felt good.
Then she got back into what sounded like cop stuff. “You and your brother didn’t grow up together? How did that happen?”
“Haven’t a clue. I was a baby when I was put in foster care.”
“Does Dusty remember you?”
“He’s only four years older than me. He doesn’t remember much of anything, either.”
“He must have known he had a little sister if he came looking for you. How did you manage to connect?”
He was sitting beside me in the probation office and he thought there was something familiar about me. You know, we’ve both got dark hair and eyes. He was sure we had the same background.”
“Background? You mean, parents.”
Shit. How could she answer so it wouldn’t sound stupid, so Bianca would stop asking questions about it and to back to just being a friend. “No. Yes. Sort of. He’s pretty sure we had the same parents, but we don’t have it in writing, if you know what I mean.”
“But you have the same last name, right?”
“Well, again, sort of. The DFPS — that’s the so-called Protective Services — their documents said my last name was Amante.”
“Amante. That’s a pretty name. The way you say it, it sounds Italian. In French, amante — the e at the end is silent — means lover. A female lover.” Bianca was quiet, concentrating as she pulled out to pass a semi that had slowed down on a hill. “But his last name is Freeman. And you told the Sergeant your last name is Freeman, too. Didn’t he ask to see your ID?”
Jaelle looked out her window. Another mountain. More trees. “I’m pretty sure Dusty showed him my ID. It says Freeman.”
“So you changed your name to Freeman?”
“It was too complicated for me. Dusty helped.” She could tell Bianca was looking at her funny, and now that she said it out loud, the whole story did sound kind of strange. So she looked the other way, out her side window, until Bianca’s eyes were back on the road.
“So why were you on probation?”
Jaelle sighed. “Shoplifting. It was a teenage thing. All my friends were doing it.”
“And Dusty?”
“He stole something from a parked car.”
“Another teenage thing?”
“Sort of. He had this friend who was Romani. Gypsy, you know? They hung out together. Did stuff, you know?”
“Probation-getting kind of stuff?”
“Yeah. This friend told him that it was okay for Romani to steal. God gave them the right, because a Romani blacksmith made the nails when Jesus was crucified, but he didn’t give them the nail that was supposed to go through Jesus’s heart.”
Bianca just nodded, looking ahead, her face serious. Jaelle was talking too much. “I don’t believe it myself, because I didn’t grow up in that culture. But Dusty is sure we’re Romani, both of us.”
“Both of you? He thinks your parents were Romani but that he might not really be your brother?”
“He is my brother, okay? I just didn’t grow up with the same last name. I don’t know. Anyway, about the Jesus thing. I guess it made them feel better about stealing stuff. The Romani people, I mean.” Jaelle really needed this to just go back to friends talking.. “Okay, now you tell me something about you. You grew up in Quebec. Don’t they all speak French there?”