“Shannonigans”

This morning we got a call from a CT Parole Officer. He wanted to do the "home inspection" to make sure we have a safe, legal environment for Shannon to be released into for parole. We've been waiting for this call for about a month now. The officer said he would be here between 2 and 3 PM.

I tried to call Shannon at work (Staples in Norwalk, CT) to let her know it was finally happening, but they said she wasn't there yet.

The parole officer showed up at 11:30. I figured he'd be early, as they want to make sure they're not releasing her into a house of druggies, weapons, etc. They show up early so they can surprise you in the middle of hiding stuff or cleaning up. We have nothing to worry about in that regard, of course, but the cats had just knocked over one of their food bowls, and Lauren's stuff is EVERYWHERE. Still, baby-related clutter is not considered dangerous (if only they knew!).

He disagreed with almost everything we said, mentioned proudly that he's a full law enforcement officer with a gun and a badge (even grabbed at his gun so we'd know where he hides it under his jacket), and said that the halfway house "lied to your faces" about Shannon being able to get a job at Staples in our area. "Yes, she has to get a job or she'll go back to prison, but it won't be at Staples. She'll have to work at a place like the car wash where I just washed my car."

He "approved" us and the house, and said we should expect a call from her parole officer tomorrow (he even gave us his name, as he was already assigned).

I didn't like him (the guy inspecting us), but I don't have to. He's not there to be liked, just to make sure the house is safe and that we really do want to sponsor her. He was gone in less than 30 minutes, but he pushed enough of my buttons that I then had a small argument with Corinne about something as trivial as how I answered one of his questions. Growl.

After he left I tried to call Shannon at work, again. This time they told me that she was too busy to talk to me. I told them this was very important. They said they would have her call back. (Shannon calls me in my office or at home all the time, and knows both numbers by heart.)

At about 2:30, her new parole officer called. (Maybe these guys are just perpetually early. If so, they should be running the whole state government.) He gave me a date and time to pick her up at the halfway house: one week from today, in the morning. Excellent! From there we bring her straight to her orientation at the parole office in Norwich (for all of us), then we can bring her home. He also mentioned that subsequent visits will be in New London, which is a bit closer.

I called Staples a third time, and told them I have an important message for Shannon and must speak to her. "I'm sorry, she's not here." I pressed him, and he said she hadn't come back from lunch. "Do you mean she quit?" I asked. "No, no! We don't know what happened. She just didn't come back."

Oy.

So I called the halfway house, hoping she had gone back there. First I told them who I was, and that Shannon's parole had finally been approved. I gave them the name of the officer, and the date and time we'd be picking her up. I told two people, and the second was her actual case worker, who was pretty excited for her. I told them that I'd tried to call Shannon at Staples to let her know, but that she hadn't come back from lunch and I was hoping I could talk to her there at the house.

She wasn't there. They didn't actually set off an alarm, but they might as well have. There's a phrase they use to describe someone who disppears, even just for an hour, when living at one of these halfway houses: "Escaped Prisoner" or "Escaped Convict." In the background, I could hear people using the words, "possible escapee."

They took my office number and said they would call back when they knew anything so I wouldn't have to worry. That was about an hour ago. I'm worrying.

In fact, I am currently as stressed and anxious as I can remember being in the last couple of years.

It's possible that nothing significant happened. She sometimes has appointments with her doctor, dentist, or therapist. She may have forgotten to tell them that she wouldn't be back right away. If that's the case, or something like it, then they'll slap her wrist and be done with it.

Blood pressure guages within five miles of my house are all going haywire while I wait for news.