Hard Focus
MariaLisa deMora
Edited by Hot Tree Editing
Cover designed by Jay Aheer
Copyright © 2018 MariaLisa deMora
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
First Published 2018
ISBN 13: 978-1-946738-15-8
DEDICATION
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, concerned citizens can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that ever has. ~ Margaret Mead
To the champions, the stand-up-and-fighters, the wrong-righters; to those who speak on behalf of those without a voice – You are seen and heard and oh-so important.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It was a news article that truly birthed this book. Some time ago I watched an online report that caused such a visceral, primal, negative response in me, my initial reaction was that the subject matter couldn’t be true.
It was.
It took me a while, but eventually I found my way to how I could present this issue in fiction form, and I would never have managed the end result without the substantial support of Becky Johnson and her crew at Hot Tree Editing. I ran the idea for this book past her in a “what if” scenario, and she gave me honest feedback. Then she took what I’d put together and helped polish it in a way which makes me proud to say, “I wrote that.”
The cover is perfect, and it’s likely no one but Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art could have pulled together this design featuring so many elements from my poor, broken instructions. It’s an absolute certainty she’s a gem, and I thank her for being willing to work with me.
So now it’s on to you, dear reader. I expect to hear from you, just so you know. If I’ve done my job well, you’ll be ready to talk when you finish reading, and I’ll be here.
Woofully yours,
~ML
Chapter One
“You’re talking to me, not her.”
Seated in the front seat of her boyfriend’s car, Constance Rowe winced at the tone behind the shouted words rolling in through the open windows, knowing that a dark wave of anger accompanied each statement. She glanced away from the scene in front of the vehicle and into the back seat at the little girl studiously playing with the new dolls Connie had just given her.
“Again, Thompson. Talk to me. You do not look at my sister.”
Connie turned and saw the big man still standing on the front porch of the picturesque little house. He now had his arms folded across his chest. With his proud chin lifted, and the way the fabric of his shirt strained to contain the well-developed muscles of his arms and chest, this man definitely commanded attention. He might be handsome, but he almost looked like a brute in comparison to the smaller man before him.
Still dressed for work in a well-fitted button-down shirt, Jonas Thompson stood on the sidewalk in front of the porch steps. He held his hands out to either side as he attempted to talk around the man and to the dark-haired woman behind the closed screen door. That woman was Audrey Stewart, Jonas’ ex, and the little girl’s mother.
Connie couldn’t hear what Jonas said, but it drew a reaction as the man in front of him snarled, lip lifting in a sneer. His angry voice projected into the car again. “That’s not gonna work for her.” This attitude was par for the course from the man, and something Connie most dreaded about these pickups.
Mind made up, Connie didn’t hesitate to reach over and twist the keys in the ignition, starting the engine. She flicked a switch and rolled up the windows, then tapped a button for the radio. “What would you like to listen to, honey?” Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at the little girl. “Adrianne, you want some rock and roll?”
“Yes, please.” Unfailingly polite, the little girl stared at her with soft brown eyes, so like her father’s it made Connie’s heart melt.
She’s such a cutie. Connie played with the tuning on the radio until she found an upbeat children’s station. “There we go, that sounds good.” Twisting in the seat, she asked, “What do you think you’ll name the dolls?”
Before Adrianne could answer her, another shout bled through the sounds of the radio. “After everything that’s happened, you really think you can dictate anything about this entire situation?”
Sighing deeply, Connie turned up the music a little more. Jonas has the patience of a saint.
When he got out of the car, he’d said he needed to talk to Audrey about changing the drop-off time tomorrow. From the way he’d rolled his eyes as he’d leaned across to brush Connie’s lips with a barely-there kiss, Jonas had already known it would be a battle. It always was.
Every time they came to pick up Adrianne, they encountered the same behavior. Jonas would appear at the agreed upon time, and still Adrianne wouldn’t be ready. So they would sit and wait for fifteen to twenty minutes, required to remain in the car or on the sidewalk. Audrey never invited Jonas inside, and Connie had heard enough threats shouted to make her leery of attempting an approach.
Eventually, one or more of his ex-girlfriend’s brothers would show up and stand on the porch, staring Jonas down as he got out of the car to greet his daughter when she finally came out through the door. You’d think the woman would get a clue. It was as if Audrey didn’t realize she and Jonas were yoked for years to come by their daughter. Otherwise, why would she work hard to make the inevitable so difficult? Connie shook her head. He was Adrianne’s father. You only had to look at their faces to see the likeness.
Connie had met Jonas Thompson at a club downtown a little more than a year ago. She’d been out with friends from work, and laughed at the audacity of a man sending over only one drink to a table full of women: a cocktail for Connie. It didn’t seem the way to make friends, but then he’d followed it up with a personal approach, and she and Jonas had chatted while her friends were busy on the dance floor. Over the course of the evening, she and Jonas had danced numerous times, and she’d enjoyed his company, finding him an engaging conversationalist who wasn’t afraid of having fun. She’d turned down his offer of a late dinner, leaving with a girlfriend to head home, but she’d given in to his request and exchanged numbers at the end of the night.
After a week went by without a call, she’d mentally written him off as just a pleasant evening.
About a month later, she’d been back at the same club and seen him again. Connie had watched for a few minutes, surprised at how uninterested he’d seemed as he’d eyed the dancers and women sitting at the bar. Instead of being into the scene, he had seemed bored, like he was going through the motions of a night on the town. Then he’d glanced around and his expression brightened, a quick smile parting his lips when he recognized her. She’d enjoyed his obvious pleasure at seeing her again, flattered at how he focused on her.
Okay, so there were no shooting stars, and no zinging tingles in her belly, but while it wasn’t love at first sight, Jonas was good to her. He could be funny and charming, and Connie had enjoyed spending more and more time with him. Over the months since, they’d fallen into a routine of dating, and she looked forwards to spe
nding time with him—every other weekend.
For nearly six months, they’d continued on in that vein, following a path Jonas set, which was fine by Connie. She didn’t have an agenda. She wasn’t looking for forever, but the stability of having someone who called on her was comforting and easy. Until one weekend, he dropped the bomb.
“I have a daughter.” Connie pushed slightly away from where she’d rested her head on Jonas’ shoulder and looked at him. He laughed at whatever he saw on her face and nodded. “Yeah. A little girl. That’s where I am every weekend I’m not with you.”
“A child? How?” He laughed again, and she shook her head. “I mean, clearly I know how, but why wouldn’t you say anything before now?”
Jonas shrugged. “I wanted to make sure this”—he gestured between them—“was going to stick before I saddled you with her.”
His words struck her wrong, and she frowned. “Saddled? I don’t understand. What’s her name? Is she bad or…how old is she?”
“Five?” Visions of a sullen fifteen-year-old had raced through her head, put to bed by his response. “Or six.” Connie tipped her head, puzzled when he seemed unsure. “Somewhere in there. Adrianne. She’s named Adrianne.” What parent doesn’t know how old their child is? “Do you want to meet her?”
“Sure? Eventually?” Meeting someone’s child was a big deal in her mind, and she tried to communicate that. “Don’t you think it would confuse her to meet some woman with her dad? If she’s that young, it might be better to leave me out of the equation.”
“Actually, I think it would make things easier for me.” He curled an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as he turned back to the TV. Remote in hand, he changed the channel from the movie they’d been watching to some Sunday afternoon show about an upcoming golf tournament. “I’ll have to wait a bit, but in a couple of months, I’d love to introduce her to you.”
Connie held herself stiffly for a moment, then slowly relaxed into him once it was clear the conversation was over. She stayed quiet, mulling over his words throughout the evening. She finally came to the realization he wasn’t rushing into anything. It wasn’t as if they’d only been out on a date or two, so he had waited until he was sure of her. She felt vaguely guilty, because she knew this meant he liked her, probably more than she liked him. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and there were broken couples everywhere to prove that not every heart wanted the same thing. I’ll see where we go, she thought. Nothing needs to be decided tonight.
Still, a vague sense of unease had followed her from that night, and when he’d finally picked a weekend two months later to introduce Adrianne to her, he hadn’t warned Connie. After picking her up, he’d just driven them to his ex’s house and had left a confused and fuming Connie in the car while he collected his little girl.
Jonas had never detailed his reasons, but Connie convinced herself it was because he wanted to create a stable environment for Adrianne, and she liked what that said about how much he cared for his daughter.
“I think…” Adrianne’s sweet voice trailed off a moment. Then she finished with a questioning tone, “Betty and Diana. Is those good names, Miss Connie?”
Adrianne was a darling little girl. Sweet and well-behaved, she seemed the perfect child. She could be reserved, but she’d only known Connie for a few months, so that should be expected.
“Those are perfect names, sweetheart. My mother’s name is Diana, so I love that name a lot. Sweet names for your sweet dollies. So, have you thought about what you want for lunch?”
Adrianne’s mother, on the other hand? Connie shook her head. Talk about an ex from hell. The woman seemed to go out of her way to make things difficult for Jonas to see their daughter. If he was late, by even a couple of minutes, her door would be locked tight and he’d be out of luck, not even getting to speak to his little girl until the next scheduled weekend visit. And forget about special requests to change things up. One of his visitations had been supposed to fall on Mother’s Day weekend, and Jonas had tried to be a good guy and switch days so Adrianne could spend that holiday with her mother, and in turn, have Father’s Day with him. It was a no-go on that idea. Audrey had informed him, via one of her brothers, that if he gave up his weekend, it would simply be a month before he saw Adrianne again.
“Maybe…” Trailing off again, Adrianne shifted her gaze out the opposite side window, turning away from both the house and Connie. Her voice was soft when she said, “I’m sorry. I’m not asuppost to ask for special things.”
Connie smiled at the little girl. Adrianne seemed surprisingly immune to all the arguing and strife that surrounded her every other weekend, but Connie still wanted to protect her as best she could. “Well today, in this car? I’ll make you a deal. You can ask for all the special things you want.” Adrianne turned and stared at her. “Doesn’t mean you’ll always get them, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.” Connie gave her the single best piece of advice her own father had given her. “If no one knows you’re asking, then the answer will always be no. You’ve got to use your words and your voice to tell people what you want.”
“Okay.” Adrianne kept her gaze on Connie, the child’s direct focus unsettling. “In that case, I want ice cream.” A brilliant smile flashed across the little girl’s face, wiped away as she sobered when the driver door opened, Jonas folding his compact form into the car.
“Hey, pumpkin. How are you?” His voice held forced pleasantness when he twisted to look at Adrianne, resting a possessive hand on Connie’s thigh. She stiffened slightly as he stroked her leg over the fabric of her jeans. “Did I hear somebody say ice cream?”
“Yes...” Adrianne’s voice was soft, uncertain. “Sir.”
“No hello for your daddy?”
“Hi, Daddy.” Adrianne glanced between the two of them. “Is Uncle Cole mad at me? Did I do wrong?”
And that explains her uneasiness, Connie thought. Adrianne was just a sweet little girl, caught in the midst of an ongoing adult skirmish and fight she had no way of understanding. I don’t understand it either.
“No, pumpkin. He’s not mad at you.” Jonas shifted, thrusting his seat belt in place with a quick movement, the forcefulness of the motion showing how tightly his anger was leashed.
“Is he mad at you?” Adrianne stared out the opposite window again, leaning back as Jonas put the car in reverse.
“Uncle Cole is going to be whatever Uncle Cole wants to be, pumpkin. Doesn’t have a thing to do with you or me. He can be mad, or he can get glad, and that’s okay because it’ll be whatever he wants it to be.” Jonas glanced towards Connie, unable to hide the deep scowl that carved taut lines in his face. He kept it from his voice when he told Adrianne, “Your Uncle Cole always does what he wants to do, and it doesn’t matter who gets caught in the crossfire.” He pulled in a harsh breath, and Connie watched as he lowered his shoulders and rolled his neck slightly. In a deliberately lighter tone of voice, he used sing-song to tell Adrianne, “Now, let’s see about getting some food into my two best girls before we jump straight to dessert.”
Connie turned to look out the side window in time to see Cole Stewart, Audrey’s oldest brother, slam his way through the door and into the house, residual anger evident in every move. For each pick-up or drop-off, it would be either him or one of his two younger brothers who came and stood like a barrier between Jonas and Audrey. The Stewart boys never failed to make an appearance, and they all equally acted like they felt Jonas was their worst enemy. As if he were something loathsome underneath their feet.
Adrianne they loved, and that was clear in the ways in which they handled the little girl with gentle kindness. Connie would be willing to place a bet that Cole would be waiting tomorrow afternoon when Jonas dropped his daughter off again, and for that interaction, there’d be no words exchanged between the adults, but the rugged-looking man would tenderly gather Adrianne up as she’d seen him do a dozen times, turning his back on Jonas and Connie to sweep his niece and her tiny bag i
nto the house.
Away they’d go for another two weeks, leaving Jonas standing alone in the driveway. Connie had often thought that watching this entire custody dance play out time after time made the best birth control ever, illustrating just how one mistake could impact so many lives.
Jonas never once indicated he felt Adrianne was a mistake, but how could her birth be anything else when there was so much anger and blame flung around?
***
“Where are you going?” Jonas’ question came just as strong fingers gripped her wrist and he chuckled as he lunged backwards, his tight grip tumbling Connie back onto the couch beside him. Her elbow came down across his chest, and he grunted, then growled a pained, “Ow.”
“I was going to the kitchen to get you another beer before I have to head home.” Connie disengaged from him and twisted in place, wedging her shoulder into the cushions so she could see his face. He had one hand shoved behind his head, and the flickering light of the TV scarcely illuminated his features, but what she could make out had gone from laughing to stoic, his expression now lined with frustration. “Now that you’ve gone all caveman, I’m not sure I want to get you anything. Maybe I’ll just be on my way and you can get your own beer.”
He stared at her without blinking, the light reflecting from his eyes. Abruptly he released her wrist and used that palm to scrub over his face, the scruff of his five o’clock shadow rasping against his hand. “Jesus, Connie. I don’t get why you won’t stay over when Adrianne’s here. It’s not like she’s going to hear or see anything. She’s a kid, for Christ’s sake.”
“Jonas.” She pitched her voice low, staying quiet in an effort to not disturb the little girl sleeping just up the hallway, bedroom door left open a crack because she sometimes had nightmares. “She’d see me in the morning, and her little girl brain will store that info and process it. She might not be old enough right now to know why I’d want to be here all night, but at some point, that little girl is going to grow up. When she does, she’s going to look to the people around her for insight into how adults act. You don’t want her making bad decisions, do you?”
Hard Focus Page 1
