Chapter 19 - Travis Comes Home
Travis served eighteen years of his twenty-two-year sentence before release under lawful credits/parole structure? Texas sentences and parole could be earlier. Let's say after eighteen years, he was released to supervision.
He was fifty-three.
Molly twenty-six.
June twenty-four.
I was forty-eight.
Andrew beside me.
Victim services notified months ahead.
No surprise.
Conditions:
No contact with me unless I initiated.
No approach to home/work.
Any contact with adult daughters only if they initiated and supervision allowed.
No firearms.
Counseling.
Standard.
I feared.
My body remembered dawn.
Andrew asked:
“Do you want cameras?”
We already had doorbell.
“Maybe.”
We upgraded exterior security without turning house fortress.
Then Travis did nothing.
One month.
Three.
Six.
He worked at warehouse equipment repair shop.
No oilfield travel.
No public interviews.
No posts.
Paid remaining restitution gradually.
Then June asked to meet.
Molly:
“Why?”
June:
“Because I want see.”
Molly:
“He doesn't deserve.”
June:
“Not about deserve.”
They argued.
I stopped:
“Different choices.”
June met at supervised reentry center.
I did not attend.
Later she told.
Travis looked older.
“Hi, June.”
“Hi.”
Then:
“Can I hug?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
She noticed.
Then:
“Did you kill Samuel?”
Travis cried.
“I caused his death.”
“Did you mean?”
“No.”
“Does that matter?”
“It matters legally. Not to loss.”
Good.
Then:
“Did you think Mom cheated?”
“No.”
“Why tell police?”
“To make them doubt her.”
Direct.
Then:
“Did you think girls worthless?”
“No.”
“You said.”
“I wanted Mom to feel what I felt.”
“What?”
“Defective.”
June:
“So you used us as insult.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Do you love us?”
“I do, but I understand love from me may not feel useful.”
Good.
June allowed second meeting later.
Eventually hugged after two years.
Molly no.
Travis wrote Molly once through allowed channel:
I will not contact again unless you ask.
She never did for five years.
Then one day she did.
Why?
Michael donor contact perhaps clarified fatherhood.
She met.
First question:
“Why did you try to stop being our legal father?”
Travis froze.
She had learned from adult records.
“I was afraid child support and thought if DNA excluded me I could run from everything.”
Molly:
“That's worse than I thought.”
“Yes.”
“Did you withdraw because lawyer?”
“Yes.”
Honest.
Then:
“You signed termination later.”
“Because by then I understood I should not have authority.”
She stared.
“Or because prison.”
“Both.”
Good.
Then:
“Are you my dad?”
Travis:
“I was. I failed. You decide what word now.”
Molly:
“Travis.”
“Okay.”
They met once a year afterward.
No restoration of paternal authority.
Then me.
Travis requested one mediated meeting after four years of release.
I refused.
Two years later, asked again.
I said yes.
Dr. Sloan retired, another mediator.
I sat across man who once tied rope around me.
My hands cold.
He said:
“Emma.”
“Travis.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Then I asked:
“Why didn't you tell me?”
He understood donor.
“Because I thought you'd leave.”
“Would I?”
“I don't know.”
“I probably would have stayed.”
He cried.
“That’s worse.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Why daughters?”
“Because every time Marlene said failure, it moved shame from me to you.”
“So you knew biology.”
“Yes.”
“Then Samuel?”
“I thought a boy would make me feel like man even if not biological.”
There.
Not genetics.
Symbol.
Then:
“Did you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know you could kill him?”
“I knew I could hurt him.”
“Why keep going?”
“Because you asked about Riverbend and I cared more about stopping truth.”
He cried harder.
No comfort.
Then:
“Do you forgive me?”
I said:
“No.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
May you like
Meeting ended.
Years later maybe change.
