The Risks We Take

by Barbara C. Doyle

  “So? I’m not saying date her. I’m saying be her friend. Reach out. Call. Email. Fax.”

  “Fax? What decade do you think this is?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Don’t judge me. Just admit that I’m right about this. You wouldn’t let me give up on Will when I thought it was over for good. So why should I let you give up on Kasey?”

  “You and Will don’t have a twelve-year gap of missed time between you,” I point out dryly.

  “No, we don’t. But we have something worth fighting for, just like you and her do. Be her friend, Ian.”

  I want to remind her that it may be tough to do after sleeping with her, but if I say that she’ll feel the need to argue. Or demand more details than I gave her. I’m not in the mood for either of those things to occur.

  “You have to at least consider it,” she urges. “I mean, I suggested you make her dinner, and it sounded like that made her very, very happy.”

  I let the memory fade, still a reminder that I never took her advice. It isn’t bad, but not something I want to pursue just yet. I know better than to rush anything. Maybe I’m not ready, or maybe I’m telling myself that Kasey isn’t.

  Either way, my mind needs to focus on the tour we’re on. What comes later will have to wait.

  I hear Bash call my name, and I know we’re going on soon.

  I look at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to decide if I like what I see. I don’t give myself an answer before making my way out to the stage.

  Another night. Another concert. Another city. One more closer to the end.

  That’s when I know that the flame that used to live inside of me flickered out.

  KASEY

  The small office is suffocating me, like the walls are going to close in at any moment. My knee bounces while I look around, taking in the pictures sitting on the brown desk. The children in it are laughing. The woman in another is smiling adoringly at her husband.

  The black clock on the wall taunts me, every tick making my heart race a little more impatiently. The meeting was supposed to start three minutes and twenty-four seconds ago. Maybe it’s a bit obsessive that I’m counting, but this meeting will tell me what happens to Taylor.

  My clammy palms run against my thighs as I look toward the door for the sixth time since sitting down. The head detective’s secretary told me there was a problem he needed to take care of, and that he wouldn’t be long.

  Four minutes, five seconds.

  Voices outside the door become nearer until it creaks open. Chief Daniell walks in with an older woman behind him. My eyes travel to Jake, who remains outside the threshold.

  “Since Officer Caldwell knows you, he can’t be part of this case,” the chief tells me, seeing who I’m looking at.

  Jake gives me a reassuring smile and closes the door to his boss’s office.

  I turn to look at the older woman.

  “I’m Amy,” she greets, holding out her hand. “I work with the police department when it comes to cases with children involved. I’m from Child Protective Services.”

  My eyes bug out of my head, and panic ensues as I ask, “You’re going to take away my sister?”

  “No, no,” she assures me quickly, squeezing my hand. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Ms. Brooks simply needs to be here to go over what the next step is for your sister. She’s been given a basic explanation of the situation, and she wants to help guide the process.”

  The process. It sounds so formal.

  She takes a seat next to me, and Chief Daniell takes his seat across from us behind his desk.

  “While we can’t go over specifics of your mother’s case, your sister is our primary concern since she’s a minor.”

  “Why can’t you tell me the specifics?”

  “It’s against policy, Kasey. It’s nothing personal …”

  I frown. “It’s not like I’ll spit in your eggs if you tell me something bad, Jeff. I’ve known you for how long? You know I’m better than that.”

  He sighs. “I know you are, but that doesn’t mean I can bend the rules for you. Just like Officer Caldwell can’t. You’re lucky I’m ignoring the fact he’s probably listening at the door right now, because he is a conflict of interest.”

  Jake has been along for the ride ever since things picked up with the case. My mother contacted me a month ago, but it came from an unknown number. There was no way to trace it. No way to tell them where she was. She’s never been gone this long, but Jake tells me she’ll come home sooner or later. Then we can get the rest figured out.

  “One day at a time, Kasey,” he assures me.

  But living day-by-day has never suited me. I’ve always been the planner. My calendar is color-coded with Taylor’s appointments, dance practice, and school events. Once a month, we plan a day out just the two of us. Everything is by the book. Everything is safe that way.

  But it’s never based on how I feel one day versus the next, because how I feel doesn’t matter anymore. It’s about what’s best for Taylor, and what’s best for her is balance.

  “But if I’m being impacted by whatever is going on with my mother, I should have the right to know the details. Especially if I’ll have to explain it to Taylor someday,” I argue.

  Jeff swipes his hand across his bald head. “All I can tell you is that your mother is in some trouble, kid. It’s not looking good for her. And your little sister could get taken away because of it. CPS went to your mother’s house and saw what conditions Taylor lived under. Not only is your mother being charged for drug possession, but the intent to sell, child neglect, and child endangerment. She won’t be getting off easy.”

  I expected as much from the start, so I don’t know why he’s telling me like I might break from the news.

  “I’d hope not. She’s an awful mother.”

  “Kid …”

  “I won’t lie to you about her. We all know she won’t be earning mother of the year, that’s for sure. And I got Taylor away from that house as soon as I saw how bad it was and I could provide some place better. That means something, doesn’t it?”

  “Of course it does, dear,” Amy intervenes. “We’re glad Taylor has you. It’s great that she has somebody to love and care for her.”

  I hear the impending but in her words.

  She gives me a sympathetic smile. “But your father is technically the next in line to claim guardianship of her.”

  My throat closes up.

  I saw this coming. Prepared for it even. It’s been something I dreaded for months now, but the longer the process took, the longer I had to worry about it every second.

  Now it’s real. The possibility of her being taken away now cemented by somebody beyond my control.

  “Your mother and him never actually divorced, so legally he’s still responsible for both of you. But since you’re a legal adult and Taylor isn’t, he’s still responsible for her upbringing.”

  The news hits me like an angry gust of wind. Clearly she heard wrong. Or maybe she read the report of their marriage status wrong. It’s bound to happen. After all, we all make mistakes.

  I let out a shaky breath. “You’re wrong. Mom told me that they divorced years ago … that he’s remarried.”

  Jeff speaks up. “We looked into it, Kasey. They aren’t divorced. I’m sorry, but she lied to you.”

  I put my face in my hands. I’m not even shocked at her lying. She’s done plenty of it over the years. I’m just shocked that I was stupid enough to believe her this whole time. I should have stopped a long time ago.

  I'll get better, Kasey.

  I'll get help.

  I'll be the mother you girls deserve.

  Lies. All fucking lies.

  So, really, I’m the stupid one here. I’m just the naïve girl who believed her cracked up mother for no reason. Not once did she prove herself to me. She never tried to change. Never tried to attempt helping raise Taylor.

  So why the hell did I hold on this whole time? />
  “He doesn’t want her,” I inform them coolly. “He hasn’t spoken to any of us since he left.”

  I’ve made a list of reasons why my father would be the worst possible choice for Taylor, and I’ve memorized it for this very moment.

  “And that’s good for your case,” Amy comforts.

  I get that she’s trying to help, to comfort me, but for some reason all she’s doing is making my blood boil ten times faster.

  “Stop saying case,” I snap. “Stop making this sound like it’s a legal thing. Does this really have to go to court and become a huge deal?”

  “Kasey,” Jeff warns. “I know this is stressful on you. I understand—”

  “No you don't! You have the perfect family, Jeff. You’ve got a wife who loves you and adores your kids. How can you understand this at all?”

  His face is stoic, not giving away an ounce of emotion. It’s the same face he uses in all situations like this at work. Outside the office, he actually smiles like a human and not some emotionally constipated robot. “I’ve seen my fair share of cases, young lady. I’ve been down the block before. While I may not understand on the same level as you, I still understand. I sympathize. Amy and I want to help you, but you have to go about this the right way, or you’ll just hurt yourself and your sister. We know you don’t want that.”

  His firm, fatherly tone makes me snap my lips shut. I know better than to argue with him. He has a point. I want this to go smoothly for me and Taylor. I can’t afford losing her or harming her in this battle.

  I brush my disheveled hair behind my ears. “I just want to know if I have a chance. He hasn’t been interested in years. I don’t see why he would be now. I’m the one who has been taking care of her. Me. Not him.”

  “And the court will acknowledge that,” Jeff assures me, like that will make a difference.

  It’s his word against the courts though.

  Amy steps back into the conversation. “It may not have to go to court in a formal sense. Legally, a lot will be done there. But your father can choose to relinquish his guardianship and make sure you get custody, which won’t mean a huge custody trial.”

  I close my eyes, my mind reeling with what-ifs—a dangerous mind fuck. “What if … what if he does want her? What happens then? Where will she go? Will I ever see her?”

  Amy puts her hand on mine. “We don’t even know if he does. We haven’t contacted him yet.”

  They haven’t?

  “When are you going to?”

  “Soon. Maybe today. It’ll depend on if we get his information. We’ve been looking into him for a while now, since this investigation opened up.”

  My brows arch. Do they not even know where he lives then? His phone number? Anything?

  “We need to make sure that he’s going to be a good choice for Taylor. That he has a good home, a decent job income. The same will go for you, if you’re the favored option.”

  Anxiety ripples through me.

  I have other lists, too. Lists of things that could be used against me. I work as a waitress, making minimum wage. Rent isn’t bad considering the hours I work, but it tends to be enough for me. Just me. Tips help, but I don’t think it’ll be considered enough to raise a child.

  Not to mention my apartment is a small two-bedroom. Sure, Taylor gets her own room, but will they think that’s enough? I mean, I’m not the type of person who stuffs a kid in a closet under the stairs. Because first, I don’t have stairs, and second, I’m not an asshole like the Dursley’s from Harry Potter.

  I still have to finish reading that book.

  Jeff breaks me from my thoughts. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, kid. You need to take a breather. Don’t worry about it. Everyone in this town knows you’re a good kid, with a good reputation, and a steady job. Don’t stress about this. Not yet.”

  Not yet. But soon, because this whole thing is bound to be a huge mess. Most custody cases are from what I hear or see in the news.

  “Why don’t you let Caldwell take you home for the day,” Jeff suggests, looking at my face. I’m probably pale, because I certainly feel sick.

  “I should be here when you talk to him.”

  “Kasey—”

  “He didn’t just walk out on her!”

  “No, he didn’t. But staying only seems like a bad idea. You’re angry. You’re scared for your sister. Your emotions are running too high—”

  “Don’t talk about my emotions, Jeff. You should know not to speak of a woman’s emotions when she’s upset. It’s like telling us to calm down. Bad move.”

  Amy nods in agreement, and the motion reminds me that she’s even here.

  He sighs heavily. “Fine. Ignore me and my ignorance. But for the love of god, Miller, go home. Taylor will be out of school in a few hours, won’t she? Go to her. Make a good dinner. Spend time together.”

  What’s left unspoken is, Because who knows how this will go.

  Apparently, Jeff thinks that staying by myself isn’t going to end well. What did he think I'd do? Hunt down my father myself? Demand that he sign over all custody? Threaten his life until he does?

  All tempting, but never something I’d do.

  So here I am, sitting on the couch with Jake’s arm around my shoulders, letting the warmth from his body try to comfort me while blindly watching some sappy movie about love at first sight. Jake seems more into it than I am, but I try pretending I’m interested.

  I never believed in happily-ever-after. I consider myself, and always have considered myself, too much of a realist to think that true love exists. And sure, people can assume it’s because of my parent’s failed marriage, but it’s more than that.

  There’s a desirable image surrounding love that’s unattainable. In books, the heroine usually always gets the hero. The white knight rescues the princess, and they ride away in the sunset. In the movies, five years pass and suddenly the high school sweethearts have a family and a beautiful house.

  But I can’t picture any of that. When I think about the future, I don’t see anything. No dream guy. No white picket fences. No aspirations.

  How can I expect Taylor to believe in love like she deserves if I can’t even do it myself? It isn’t like our parents define who we are. What my mother has done doesn’t cement my fate or Taylor’s. Yet here I am, biting my nails at the possibility of failing in life—doing a faceplant in the gravel in front of the world to see.

  Halfway through the movie, I can’t stay still anymore watching the romance unfold. I squirm out of his hold, and he drops his arm.

  He fills the silence. “I won’t ask if you’re okay, because that seems like a stupid question,” he states, sitting straighter. “But I hope you’re at least trying to be.”

  I refrain from scoffing. “You know, Jeff didn’t need to send a babysitter. Last I checked, part of your job description wasn’t watching movies with me to distract me from life.”

  “I’m not babysitting. I’m here for moral support,” he corrects softly.

  I hear the sincerity in his words, but it just isn’t enough to break past the irritation that’s been building since we left the police department earlier.

  I roll my eyes. “What if I don’t want moral support? What if I want complete silence to create a diabolical plan to take down my dad?”

  He laughs, and it shakes the couch. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body evil enough to create some diabolical plan against your father.”

  “But if I did …”

  His face gets serious. “Then I’d have to stop you, obviously. Harassment, assault, and murder don’t look good on people’s records. I’m a cop. I’d know these things.”

  Find a man who will embrace the crazy, I was told once. Anybody who doesn’t is only holding you back, Rosie had told me once.

  I shift on the couch, so I’m sitting in a kneeling position with my feet tucked under my butt. It isn’t like I want him to actually let me get away with potential murder, because I can’t pict
ure that day ever coming, but it would be nice if he lightened the mood. Instead, he turns into the serious cop that he is. Something admirable, I suppose. He loves his job. But being here for me when I need him is something I wouldn’t mind more.

  “You have to get your mind off it,” he tells me, sighing.

  “How?” I doubt. “You try pretending like your world might not be flipped over again. You don’t have siblings to worry about. And if you did, Rosie would have taken care of you guys, because she’s an amazing person.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but contemplates what I say. He can’t refute my claim, because he knows I’m right. Rosie is an amazing woman, who dedicates her life to her family. Even after Jake’s dad passed away, she made it work.

  It makes me wonder how worth it something is to want to fight that hard. It’s what I want for Taylor, but somebody else?

  It just doesn’t seem likely.

  I lean back against the couch cushion. “Have you ever wanted something to work out so bad that you feel like it consumes you? Like it’s all you can think about?”

  I'm met by silence for what feels like forever.

  “I …” Creases form in his forehead, and I can tell he’s genuinely thinking about it. The concentration it takes tells me the answer even before he says it. “No, I don’t think I have.”

  I nod, readjusting again on the couch. “Well that’s what it feels like for me when it comes to Taylor. Everything I do is for her, and I’m terrified of failing her—letting her down. I want her to live with me, but there are so many obstacles in the way. And … it’s just hard.”

  He gives me a small smile, his eyes a softer shade than they were in his contemplation. “At least you can admit that you’re afraid. I would be too if I were in your shoes. And as much as you don’t want to hear it, obsessing over this won’t help. Chief made some good suggestions. You and her should spend some time together. Watch a movie and junk out.”

  “If I do that, it’ll feel like I’m preparing for good-bye, and then I’ll only obsess more.”

  “What will you do then? Lock her in her room and never let her out?”