"RJ is working on some big important project at school so he couldn't video chat, but his suggestion is…" My mom paused for dramatic effect. "Who wants to guess?"
“Japan?” Kimmy and I said in unison.
“No!” Mom grinned. “China.”
“Isn’t his new research partner Chinese?” Kimmy asked. “What’s her name?”
“Claudia.”
“That would explain why he hardly comes home anymore.” Kimmy shrugged. “Well, I don’t want to go to China. I was actually hoping we could go to Barbados this year.”
"We've never been to Barbados." Mom looked at Dad, and he nodded.
“I’ve been,” Aunt Patrice said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Cole,” Mom said. “Where do you want to go?”
I shot a glance at Kimmy. She stared at me, silently willing me to honor our agreement and say Barbados, but I couldn’t. I turned to Mom, who I knew would be my best ally.
“We haven’t been to Puerto Rico.”
“Puerto Rico?” Kimmy said, giving me a pointed glare. “Really, Cole? Are you sure you don’t want to go to Barbados?”
“Didn’t they just have a hurricane?” Aunt Patrice asked.
“Almost two years ago,” I chimed in.
"It would be a good opportunity to see how we could help." Mom loved volunteer work. "Also, tourism is a big part of Puerto Rico's economy. It would be a great way to support local businesses."
"I'm not going on vacation to work for free," Aunt Patrice protested. "Tell me who to write a check to, and I will, but with the little time off I do get, I'm going somewhere to relax. I'm with Kimmy."
It was tied, and Dad was the tiebreaker.
“What do you think, Reggie?” my mom asked. “We’ve always talked about going to Puerto Rico.”
Dad smiled and I knew I’d won. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Lisa’s face when I invited her to come with us and told her where we were going. Kimmy, sensing defeat on the horizon, shifted into warrior mode and pulled the ultimate Hail Mary.
“If we went to Barbados, everything would be free,” she blurted out.
Dad’s attention snapped back to Kimmy.
Shit.
"Adam's brother has a huge three-bedroom apartment that's big enough for all of us at The Sterling. He said we could stay there and use his private plane. Also, the resort is all-inclusive, so we wouldn't have to pay for meals or excursions. The apartment also comes with a car and driver."
Dad’s face spread into a wide grin.
"All-inclusive, huh?" The wheels were turning in Dad's head.
Kimberly had used Dad’s favorite four-letter word and ensured that this year’s family vacation would be in Barbados.
"That is generous," I said. "And very convenient. We should call Adam's brother and thank him. Right now. On speakerphone." I raised my eyebrows. She narrowed her eyes.
“Fine.” She pulled out her phone and dialed, calling my bluff.
“Hey, Kimberly,” a woman’s cheerful voice answered.
“Hey, Abby. I was hoping to talk to Nate.”
“Nate’s in the gym, but I saw it was you calling, so I answered. Is everything okay? You’re still coming to brunch tomorrow, right?”
"Oh, it's fine, and I'll definitely be there. You're on speakerphone with my family, by the way."
“Hi, family,” she called.
A chorus of Hey, Abbys followed.
“We were calling,” Kimberly began slowly, “to thank you and Nate for generously letting us use the plane and the apartment in Barbados for our family vacation in November.” There was a pause.
“Of course,” Abby replied, a little too cheerfully. “Well, of course, Nate and I were so excited when you asked us. I already have our assistant working on the arrangements, you were just gonna get back to me with the exact dates.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at her. They offered the apartment without knowing the dates, really? She raised her eyebrows and gave me a shit-eating smirk.
“Hey, Abby,” my mom shouted across the room. “How’s your mother doing?”
“Hi, Dr. Simmons. She’s great. My parents are actually in town visiting us. Well, they’re really visiting the baby. Nate and I just happen to be here.” She laughed. “You and Judge Simmons should come to brunch with Kimberly tomorrow.”
“Well, we would love that,” Mom answered. “What do you think, Reggie?”
Dad nodded with a silly grin on his face. Free vacation and free brunch. What’s not to love?
“Okay, thank you, Abby. I don’t want to keep you. Please thank Nate too and kiss baby Aviva for me.”
“Will do. See you tomorrow!”
"Well, seven people in a three-bedroom apartment sounds too crowded for me. I would need my own place," Aunt Patrice said.
“My bosses are best friends with the owners of the resort. I’m sure we could arrange something.”
“Thought of everything. Didn’t you?” I muttered.
“You know the family motto: The Simmons family don’t come to play.” She grinned again.
"That's my girl," Dad crowed, and I groaned. He was going to be talking about all the money he saved on this vacation until next year's vacation.
“So, Cole, what made you want to go to Puerto Rico anyway?” Aunt Patrice asked.
“I think it has something to do with CJ’s new nanny,” Mom said with a sly grin.
"I know," Kimberly chimed in with an edge to her voice. "Cole never cares about where we go on vacation, then he suddenly has a burning desire to go to the island where Lisa Betancourt’s family is from.” She put a weird emphasis on Lisa’s last name.
“Betancourt?” Mom asked and looked at Aunt Patrice. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
"Because her mom wrote those cowboy books you love," Kimberly answered.
"The Montenegro Brothers?" my mom asked, and Kimberly nodded.
"Fernando, Ernesto, Jose, and Miguel?" my aunt asked, and her voice went up an octave. Kimberly nodded again. "Oh shit! We love those books."
"Cole, come with me." Mom stood and walked to her study. I followed her, actually relieved the conversation had veered away from Lisa and me. She parked herself in her high-backed leather office chair that Kimmy, RJ, and I used to spend hours taking turns spinning each other in, and rolled herself over to one of her tall bookcases, scanning the shelves. "Ah, here they are."
She pulled four large hardcover books off one of the shelves. They were leaning against a large shiny red vase. My heart thudded when I realized it wasn’t a vase.
“You’re using Crystal’s ashes as a bookend?”
“No.” My mother was clutching the books on her lap and glaring at me. “Crystal is keeping me company in my study until you get your butt over here and do something with her. Although, isn’t it strange that her urn happened to end up next to these books?” There was a mischievous glint in her eye. “My mother would call that a sign.”
“A sign for what?” I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck, knowing exactly what she was talking about. I thought of Lisa rocking CJ and singing Crystal’s favorite song. I wondered if CJ recognized it.
"A sign that you met someone worth running out into the street for, barefoot at three in the morning."
"Mom." I heaved a deep sigh. "It's not like that with Lisa. We both have a lot of sh— stuff going on, and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and CJ. I finally feel like things are falling into place with us. I can't risk messing that up."
She nodded, but her smug expression didn’t change. I kept going.
"And she doesn't want anything more. She said it. So, it's just better to keep things the way they are."
“What do you want?”
"I'm not sure." That was mostly true. I wanted everything—Lisa, CJ, my job—but I didn't know how that was possible. Relationships weren't my forte, but I have never cared about someone the way I cared about Lisa. But I needed her and I couldn't risk losing her.
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Besides, I had nothing to offer her. She only saw me first thing in the morning and for a few minutes before I went to bed. I was always exhausted and pissed off. I hated that I missed seeing CJ before she put him to bed, and spending time with him on the weekends wasn't enough. On top of all that, I still haven't sorted out the circumstances around my birth mother's death. Detective Tan's card was still sitting in a drawer collecting dust, and Crystal's ashes were in Mom's office doing the same thing.
Mom eyed me with an expression that told me that she was trying to decide if she should intervene. “Just follow your heart. I know you’ll make the right choice.”
“Is that what you tell your patients?”
"You are not my patient. You're my son, and if you don't have the tools"—she tapped her temple with her index finger—"to figure out the best way to handle this situation, then I didn't do my job." She stood and handed me the stack of books. "And I did my job." She patted my cheeks. "Ask Lisa if she could have her mother sign these for me. I'll pay for any shipping and fees. You should ask Patrice if she wants hers signed too."
Aunt Patrice did want her books signed and was planning to have one of her assistants messenger them to my house later.
* * *
The following Wednesday, Lisa brought CJ to the office so we could both get our cheeks swabbed for the DNA tests.
My stomach was doing flips, and I was nervous, but I couldn't tell if it was because I was seeing CJ awake for the first time in a couple days, if I was excited to see Lisa, or if it was the impending adoption hearing.
“Cole,” Susan Charing called my name. I must have been daydreaming.
“Yeah, sorry.”
"Listen, this should be open and shut. You're CJ's closest living relative. There's no father listed on the birth certificate. You're gainfully employed, have plenty of help, and a supportive family." She heaved a deep sigh. "But you and I know it isn't always that simple."
I nodded. My birth mother requested for me to be adopted by the family that had practically raised me for six years, but it wasn't good enough for the state. I was shuffled around to foster homes with parents deemed more "suitable" by the courts, which really meant they were white. When none of those worked out, they sent me to live with my birth mother's relatives in Missouri, even after she wrote several letters to the judge asking him to let me stay in New York.
I ran away from Missouri after a few months with help from Kimberly, and my parents filed complaints, orders of protection, and a couple of lawsuits until they were legally able to adopt me. It took a lot of time, money, and effort. I know my parents sacrificed a lot to keep me, but they never made me feel like I wasn't worth the effort. Every day of my life was spent trying to prove them right.
The idea of having to deal with even half of what my parents went through scared me shitless. CJ had only been with me for three months, but I couldn't imagine my life without him.
"Cole, I need to tell you something." Susan always had a no-nonsense demeanor, but her facade cracked a little before she continued. "Judge Tomlinson got himself assigned to your hearing."
I furrowed my brow. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“He’s the judge that sent you to Missouri.”
Recognition, coupled with a white-hot rage, infused every pore of my skin as I remembered his old, pale, and jowly face as I screamed and cried in his courtroom. It was fifteen years ago, but I remembered it like it was yesterday.
Mom had bought me a new suit, just like the ones Dad wore to court, and I was ready to sit on the stand to convince the judge that I belonged with my family. He had no interest in my testimony, told the court I was too young to understand, and that I needed to be with "my own people" and how happy my family—people I'd never met—would be to raise me. I didn't help matters by charging the bench intent on climbing up there and beating the shit out of him. But I was ten and still scrawny. The bailiff snatched me around the waist when I'd barely made it a few feet and lifted me off the floor; clawing, kicking, and swearing.
I had a lot of anger issues back then. Common sense should have dictated that living in a stable family environment under the constant care of a lawyer and psychiatrist would be the best place for me, but common sense doesn’t come with a law degree.
"I tried to file in a way that would make it less likely for him to be assigned, but the rumor is that he went out of his way to get on this case. Of course, we can't prove it. Trying to get him reassigned could backfire. So, we may have a fight on our hands, and frankly, I have a few scores to settle with him."
“How the hell is he still on the bench?”
"We couldn't prove that race was a factor in his decision to send you to Missouri and deny your parents’ petition for adoption, and since his negligence didn't result in your death…"
“So, I should’ve died to get his ass removed from the bench.”
"It would've made my job easier," she chuckled, and I joined her. "Look, I don't foresee any problems, but I'm going to dot every I and cross every T on this one. I feel like I owe it to you." She put a motherly hand on my forearm. I had no idea Susan Charing carried this with her all this time.
"You don't owe me anything. If anyone should understand how hard your job is, it's me. I know you did your best, and everything worked out in the end."
“Thank you for saying that, Cole.” She looked at me and gave me a small smile, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
"So, we never talked about payment. I think I have enough in my savings for a retainer, but—" Susan interrupted me with a pat on my arm.
“Cole, I’m doing this pro bono. I’ve already talked to Bryce. You’re family. Your dad was always very kind to me when I was just starting out. He gave me opportunities the other associates wouldn’t, never talked down to me, and I always felt confident coming to him for advice. I wouldn’t be the lawyer I am today without him. I wished I could have served you better fifteen years ago, but I’m glad I have the opportunity now.”
"I don't know what to say." Hiring Lisa took a big chunk out of my take-home salary, and I knew that adopting CJ was going to be expensive. I worried about how I would manage it and had considered a second mortgage on the brownstone. Now, I didn't have to.
"Just say thank you and let's get to work." She smiled, and the sadness in her eyes was replaced by a predatory glint, resembling the Susan Charing I was used to seeing. "Is that him?" She pointed through the glass panel wall of the conference room we were occupying at Lisa pushing CJ in his stroller.
Judy and a few of the receptionists stopped her at the desk. They were fawning over CJ, but when I noticed Judy trying to engage Lisa in conversation, I knew it was time to intervene.
“Hey.” I jogged over to the reception desk. I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to touch, hug, or kiss Lisa, but I somehow held it together. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
"I just used the good old Manhattan grid system." She smirked, and I narrowed my eyes at her, smiling.
“We’re in here.” I motioned for her to follow me into the conference room.
“Lisa,” Judy called after us. “It’s nice to meet you.”
"You too, Judy." She grinned as I ushered her away from the desk. I glared at Judy. She just raised her eyebrows and smiled. I could only imagine the office gossip that would come from Lisa and CJ's brief appearance.
I introduced Lisa and Susan. We chatted about CJ’s case after I assured her that I was comfortable discussing the details in front of Lisa. It was also possible that she would be called to testify.
A woman in scrubs came into the room, holding a medical kit. First, she swabbed CJ's and my cheeks, and then she pulled out a set of needles, tubes, and vials. I looked at Susan.
“We’re also drawing blood for the DNA testing,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Is that necessary?” I asked.
"I told you I'm crossing my Ts and dotting my Is. I don't want any issues. Of course, you can refu
se, but I think this is the best course of action." Susan's expression didn't change.
I glanced at Lisa, and she gave me an encouraging smile. I nodded at the nurse.
“Let’s do the little guy first,” she said.
Lisa held CJ close in her lap and sang to him while the nurse inserted the needle, and he barely flinched. She continued to sing as we watched the small vial fill with his blood, and before we knew it, he was wearing a PJ Masks Band-Aid and happily sucking on a lollipop.
I was next, and soon the nurse left. Lisa tucked CJ back into his stroller to go back uptown. My heart lurched at the thought of them leaving. I wanted to invite her and CJ to lunch, or give them a tour of the office, anything to have them with me a little bit longer, but it was good to maintain the boundaries we'd set, and even better not to fuel office gossip.
I stood by the elevator and watched the doors close with Lisa and CJ inside before returning to the conference room. I sank in the chair and turned to face Susan, who was staring at me.
“What?”
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That.” She wagged her finger between me and Lisa’s now vacated chair. “Is something going on between you and your nanny?”
“No, and I don’t think that has any relevance to CJ’s adoption.”
"Cole." She eyed me. "In family court, everything's relevant. And if you have a relationship with this woman, it could help your chances of adopting CJ."
“What do you mean?”
"Tomlinson is a traditionalist. He's also a piece of shit that has no place in our judicial system. But he believes children should be raised in what he deems are traditional families: One man and one woman, the races shouldn't mix, and don't get me started on his ableism. He once tried to deny an adoption because the mother used a wheelchair, and he didn't feel she'd be capable of performing the day-to-day duties of a mother."
“Are you fucking serious? So what happened?”
"We appealed and got the case reassigned. That schmuck is like the Teflon Don. Nothing can touch him. I think we're all just waiting for him to die at this point."
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