by Claire Adams
“No,” he said, in his tiny little voice. “I’m okay.”
I looked down at his sweet face, his eyes looking as if they were about to fill up with tears. I couldn’t help myself; the motherly instinct in me wanted to make it all better for him. I turned and scooped him up into a big tight hug, my heart breaking as he laid his head on my shoulder. He was so little, and all of this was just so unfair to him. I set him back on the bed and picked up my bag, searching through it for a pen and piece of paper. I leaned the paper against the surface of the nightstand and wrote my phone number on the front in pen. I stared down at the piece of paper for several moments, making sure I was doing the right thing. I wanted him to know that he was not alone, even if he felt like it sometimes. I reached out and took his hand, opening it up and pressing the paper into his palm. I closed his fingers around the paper and looked him in the eyes. He stared at me in confusion, glancing at his hand and then back up at my face.
“This is my phone number,” I said, looking into his eyes. “If you ever need me, for anything, you can call me. Okay?”
Some might think giving a six-year-old my phone number was useless, but not for Jake. He was an incredibly intelligent little boy, and had been trained to memorize phone numbers, addresses, and knew how to make phone calls when necessary. Now the idea that a boy his age was being held responsible for such a big task made me sad, but at least I knew that I could be there for him if he needed me. He shook his head up and down, signifying that he understood. Just as a small smile curved his lips, his mother called him from downstairs. I pushed him on his way and got to my feet looking around his room. The hollow pain in my chest was unescapable and I quickly pulled my hood up and trotted down the stairs and out the front door.
This little boy had already won my heart. On my drive back to my house, I thought a lot about what had happened, about the situation that I’d just become aware of. It was a bit of a shock to see Sarah and Luke arguing like that, and it made me wonder what little Jake had witnessed when the two of them were still married. I only knew a few details about the divorce, which seemed normal, at least normal for any divorce in today’s society. The marriage didn’t work, they went to court, and Sarah had full custody of Jake. She said Luke had been verbally abusive to her, but there was no police action because she didn’t have the proof. I was always inclined to believe someone who said they were abused, but her story wasn’t sitting well with me. I couldn’t really figure out why she was expressing such hostility towards her ex, especially considering he funded her entire life. I considered myself lucky that I got to keep the house in our divorce, much less ever expect to see a cent from him toward living expenses. From what it seemed to me, she not only got the house, but he paid for it, and supplied a steady flow of cash for her to be able to live the way she did.
Everything about Luke, from his smile to the way he handled his little boy screamed nice guy to me. It was very obvious that his son adored him, which didn’t scream abuser to me at all. Usually, kids had a pretty good perception of these kinds of things, and all he seemed to want to do was talk to his daddy and enjoy being loved by him. Then again, I knew better than most that looks could be deceiving. My ex came off as the most loving, caring, and supportive man on earth, but when it came to our heartbreaking turn of events, he wasn’t any of those things. People had a hard time believing me when I told them how he had behaved, and I couldn’t blame them, I was in shock myself. When my son died, I thought it was going to be the end of my world. I never even had a chance to hold him after he was born, since he was raced off to the doctors and died shortly thereafter. Brian never even hugged me after the baby died, and was completely cold to me anytime I showed any sort of emotion about it. It was terrible. He seemed completely unaffected by it, leaving me to handle everything from funeral arrangements to my own dismal feelings about the whole thing. He just couldn’t understand why I had fallen into a deep depression, which only served to make me feel more isolated than before.
We separated one month after our son died, and divorced right after the period of separation was complete. Not long after that, I’d learned that he’d remarried, to a mutual friend who had come around quite often after the baby died. How a woman could be okay with a man who had no feelings over his dead child, I would never understand. I guess it was true what they said about love being blind; it never seemed to hit you over the head until after you were over someone. Then, when the tears had dried and the heart had stopped aching, you were able to see all the negative things you’d refused to see before. I hoped for her sake she didn’t have to go through it, and that she’d never experience the kind of loss that drove us apart in the first place. I’d tried to be understanding, knowing that grief strikes everyone differently, but he never seemed to have experienced any grief.
Last I’d heard, Brian and his new wife had one child and were expecting another in a couple of months. He got the family he wanted, and he left me behind in the dust. It almost made me feel like he thought I was a failure, unable to create a viable child for him, so he tossed me to the side, along with the repercussions of the event. He found someone new, someone that was able to give him a family when he wanted it. He had pushed me to try again right after the baby died, but there was no way, I couldn’t even think about anything but my own grief at that point. That turned out to be the tipping point, when he decided to move out and not even attempt to help me through the loss of our child. It was devastating all over again for me. Not only had I lost my baby boy, but I’d also lost the man I’d considered to be the love of my life. It was an extremely dark time for me.
Even now, I lived alone, still trying to get over everything, still mourning my loss. When Brian moved out, the house was silent, and I had to go through the whole place on my own, folding up the baby’s things and sending them off to a charity. I was able to see the light of day now, even though some days were harder than others. I had sunk myself into babysitting, yearning to feel that sense of family again, yearning to feel the warm, sweet hugs of a child, even if they weren’t mine. Jake did that for me, and what made it even better was the fact that Jake seemed to need me just as much as I needed him. He filled that empty space a little, and I knew that it was good for me. He was good for me.
All I needed now was to figure out what the hell had happened with his parents, so I knew how to comfort him on days like today.
Chapter Five
Luke
I got out of the car and looked up at the gray sky, thinking how it seemed as though the weather was mirroring my emotions that day. It was a drizzling and cloudy September day in Manhattan, Kansas, or the ‘Little Apple’ as some liked to call it. In reality, the names were the only things that this small town had in common with the monstrosity of New York City, but it made the residents here feel a little bit bigger in their small-town life nonetheless. As I looked toward the doors of the building ahead of me, rain began to drizzle down, so I jogged across the parking lot and into the office.
“Good afternoon,” the receptionist said. “May I help you?”
“Yes, I have an appointment with Amanda Goodall,” I replied.
“Very good,” the secretary said. “Attorney Goodall will be right out to see you.”
“Thank you,” I replied, turning and looking out as the rain picked up, splashing against the black asphalt parking lot.
“Mr. Thompson,” a strong voice called from behind me, forcing me to turn around.
“Ms. Goodall,” I replied, “Please, call me Luke.”
I followed Amanda back to her office, watching the stiff and pointed movements she made as she walked through her doorway, then closed the office door behind us. She was a no-nonsense attorney, from the way she handled her clients to the way she kept her appearance. Rising only about five-feet-six, with dark skin and a short, feminine haircut, her personality burst through any idea that she might be a pushover. I admired her, and that was half of the reason I had hired her to be my attorney. That bein
g said, I was more than excited to hear her approach, but was slightly taken back by it when she was done. For someone hell-bent on letting the truth be known, her ideas were slightly archaic.
“You want me to do what?”
“Look, Luke,” she said, sitting on the edge of her desk and taking off her glasses. “I looked over everything from the original trial. Your best chance of getting joint custody of your son is to get into a stable relationship with a reliable and comforting woman who you think would be best for your son.”
I took in a deep breath and looked out her office window at the rain. I couldn’t even begin to understand why that would be my best option. Sarah wasn’t in a relationship with anyone, so why did it make me a less reliable parent if I was single as well? Why was my ex getting all the props while she just sat around spending my money and tossing our son to the side? I could already tell you right then and there that my mind was not going to let this happen. My brain was not even ready to comprehend the notion of getting into a relationship just to look better in court; it was unfair and absurd. I was a more than capable father with the ability to raise my son just as well as Sarah was, and likely better, and I was having to fold to social norms just to get a judge to take me seriously.
I knew that the allegations she had made against me in court were serious, but they were unfounded and never proven. There were plenty of reasons why the courts should take a second look at this whole situation, one of them being the fact that my ex-wife wasn’t actually raising our son. I was paying her to live a life of freedom, all while my child spent his days at school, and a good share of the rest of the time with a nanny.
“I think we really have a case here,” I said, scooting forward in my chair. “My ex-wife doesn’t care about having Jake around or not; she just wants the money. That is strongly proven by the fact that she spends her days and nights shopping and going about her life while leaving our son to be raised and watched by a caregiver. I mean, the woman is barely parenting Jake, much less teaching and nurturing him the way she should be, especially for someone who I’m paying enough so she can stay home with him and not have to work. I’m paying more to have her live her life than before the divorce, but at least then I could see my son and be around him.”
“You need to remember something,” she said. “It may not seem fair, but judges almost always side with the mother. They have to have a really compelling reason to go against what the mother says is happening. Because you didn’t contest the charges and allegations made against you during the divorce, her using a babysitter and shopping are not going to be a strong enough argument to sway the mind of the judge.”
“That’s insane,” I said, with irritation. “No offense, but how does the fact that my ex-wife has a vagina make her automatically more suited to raising our son? That is complete bullshit.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, Luke,” Amanda replied patiently. “But we can debate the legality of bias in the United States Court System all we want, but at the end of the day, you still have to convince this judge. I am telling you, the tactic I’ve described is your best shot at winning this judge over. We’re in Kansas, not California, and the old ways are still very much a stigma in this court system. They still look at the mother as the raiser of children, and the father as the breadwinner, even when you’re no longer married.”
“You know, I’ve finally been able to have my life back,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m finally free to do and see whoever I like whenever I want to. I have the ability to make the choices I want for my life, just like Sarah has been doing since long before we were divorced. I am enjoying my time as a free agent, able to peruse the dating scene and not get too heavily involved with any woman. Forcing me into it is just going to create a negative situation for the both of us. The last thing I want right now is to saddle myself with a wife again. I went down that road, and it brought me nothing but heartache and grief, not to mention robbed me of my child and empty my bank account. I would be insane to think another serious relationship would be a good idea.”
“It’s not forced, Luke. You do have the choice here,” she said.
“Yeah, but if I don’t go along with it, I may be sacrificing the ability to have my son with me,” I scoffed. “Why isn’t she forced into a two-parent system? Not that I would want to saddle any man with that mess.”
“I appreciate your feelings on this; I really do,” Amanda said. “I wouldn’t want to be forced into a relationship any more than you do, but if you want your son back, that is the single best chance you have. Try to think about it in a positive way: a strong and caring woman in Jake’s life will help him get past whatever narcissism issues your ex-wife has developed. He’d be able to see a real woman, and experience the love he should be getting from his mother.”
“I have a hard enough time picking out a necktie before a game,” I said, rubbing my face. “How am I supposed to pick out a woman to mother my child and make me look good in court?”
“It’s simple,” she said. “Find a woman who is good with children, I mean really good with them, not just when it suits them. She should be sweet and kind, and able to make a very good impression on the courts. You know the kind of woman I’m talking about: the kind who shines with happiness when she walks into a room.”
“Those kinds of women are either insane, already married, or extremely hard to find, especially in a town made up mostly of college students,” I said. “That kind of woman could take me a lifetime to find. Hell, if it was easy I would have found one before ever marrying Sarah. Then I wouldn’t be sitting here in your office trying to get my son back. This is insane,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe I’m in this situation.”
“Well, however you need to do it, you need to do it fast,” she said, looking over at me.
“All right,” I said, with a sigh. “When should we meet again?”
“When you have procured yourself a woman,” she said, with a slight smirk. “And Luke, listen. I don’t believe you’re a bad guy, and I’m not just saying that because you’re paying me. I’m sorry the system works the way it does. I know it isn’t fair.”
“Thank you,” I grumbled. “I wish you could make the judge see it that way; it would save me a whole lot of drama.”
I picked up my coat and walked out of the office and toward the front doors, shaking my head. I walked to my truck and climbed in, starting it up and heading toward the campus. My first marriage was a disaster from the beginning. We were young and thought marriage was what we were supposed to do. So, despite the fact that my brain was screaming at me not to, I asked Sarah to marry me. During the beginning of our marriage things were loving and simple but when the honeymoon period ended, the bickering started, getting worse through the years. We stayed together for so long because she liked the notoriety of being the coach’s wife, and I thought it was the best thing for Jake. In the end, she’d become a crazy bitch who only wanted money, and I was the poor sap who got it good in court. Now, my lawyer wanted me to walk straight back in and put the noose around my neck; it was insane.
How in the world was I going to convince a woman to get into a serious relationship with me in this short amount of time? I couldn’t take forever romancing someone, because the longer I waited, the more time passed without Jake. Everyone already thought I was a player, though, which for all intents and purposes, I was. Hell, even on my date with the cheerleader last night, she’d made a comment about how I had a serious reputation around town. I couldn’t even start to deny it; it would have been a useless waste of breath.
As I drove, the face of my brown-haired, green-eyed little boy flashed through my mind. I loved that kid more than anything in the world. He was smart, handsome, brave, and he loved me as much as I loved him. He needed me in his life, not some random guy trying to play at being daddy whenever Sarah decided she wanted to try to catch another poor schmuck in her grasp. I would do anything for Jake, anything, especially if it meant that I could spend tim
e with him, hug him, and be the father to him that I should be. It was evident in his eyes and his voice when I’d seen him the day before—Jake was yearning to have me in his life, and I wasn’t doing everything I could to make it happen. I’d already known it was the right thing to do, which was why I’d hired a new attorney, but seeing him sharpened my resolve. I had to do my best for him; I had to make sure I was focused on my son and not my personal life, even though it seemed the two would have to intertwine.
Then there was the million-dollar question. If I was going to go through with this and find a woman to help raise Jake, I would need to start immediately. But where would I even start looking for a replacement wife?
Chapter Six
Quinn
It was finally beautiful outside after raining all day Friday. In order to get my mind off things, I went outside, donned my gardening gloves, and started to pull weeds. As I sat there, my mind somewhere other than the vegetation, I heard a familiar deep voice behind me. I sat up and dusted my hands off before turning around and smiling at my neighbor, Steve, who was heading toward me across the lawn.
“Hi, Quinn,” he said, waving as he tiptoed across the still wet grass with a cheesy smile on his face, and his hands in his pockets.
I took in a deep breath and stood up, brushing the dirt off my knees. I turned toward him and smiled, taking off my glove and shaking his outstretched hand. I put my hand on my forehead to stomp out the glaring sun overhead and cleared my throat, still slightly dizzy from the daydream he had pulled me out of.
“Hey, Steve, how was your day?”
“It’s been really good,” he said, chuckling. “I’m just glad it stopped raining so much. How about you? Not working today?”
“No, not today,” I said, smiling. “Just trying to get a little gardening done before the frost hits us next month. I want my yard to look halfway decent through the dead season, so gardening will be easier in the spring.”
