PART 2
I left my third graders with the music aide and drove to the mall faster than I’ve ever driven.
Olive was sitting in a small gray security office with a juice box she hadn’t touched. Her face was red and swollen from crying.
When she saw me, she ran into my arms.
“Mommy, I cried just like Grandma said. I said it was my idea. But I didn’t want to lie anymore. So then I told them the truth.”
Officer Fitch was a big man with a gentle voice.
“She told us everything, ma’am,” he said. “Your daughter’s not in trouble. Kids under ten can’t be charged here. But somebody’s in a lot of trouble.”
He turned his monitor toward me.
The security video showed Olive and Dolores walking through the department store together. Dolores taking a purse off a display and unzipping Olive’s backpack. Perfume. A pair of earbuds. Two sweaters.
At the door, the alarm went off.
Dolores looked at the security guard walking toward them. Then she let go of Olive’s hand.
And walked out the other door without looking back.
“In eleven years of doing this,” Officer Fitch said quietly, “I’ve never seen anyone leave a child like that.”
He showed me something else. A note, written on lined paper, in handwriting that was supposed to look like mine.
“Please excuse Olive early today for a dentist appointment. Her grandmother will pick her up. Kim Lorimer.”
Dolores had forged my signature to get Olive out of school.
The police found Dolores at her apartment that evening. Her spare bedroom was full of shopping bags. More than three hundred items with tags still on them. Shipping boxes. A label printer.
Over two years, she’d made more than $40,000 selling stolen merchandise online.
She’d used Olive on at least sixty trips.
When the detective asked her why, she said, “Nobody stops a grandma with a little girl.”
Dolores was charged with organized retail theft, forgery, and contributing to the delinquency of a minor. The judge also issued a protective order. She can’t come near Olive or her school.
She pleaded guilty in the spring. Probation. Restitution. Community service.
She wrote Olive a letter from her lawyer’s office. Olive asked me to read it to her.
It said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Grandma made a big mistake.”
Olive was quiet for a long time.
“She let go of my hand, Mommy,” she finally said. “When the beeper went off. She let go.”
“I know, baby.”
“You would never let go.”
“Never.”
Olive and I go to the mall sometimes now. Just the two of us.
Last week, she picked out a little bracelet at a kiosk. She carried it all the way to the register, counted out her own allowance money, and waited for the receipt.
Then she held it up proudly.
“See, Mom? This is how you do a treasure hunt.”
THE END.
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Children learn what we show them. Make sure the adults around your kids are teaching them the right lessons. And never let anyone use a child as a shield.
What would you have said to Dolores if you were Kim? Tell us in the replies.