by L. B. Dunbar
Sadie drops her arms and fists her fingers.
“It’s freezing out here. We should get you home. Besides, it’s late.” It has to be close to midnight.
“Why didn’t you tell Aunt Roxie about the interviews?” Sadie’s voice lowers, and I shake my head, disappointed in myself.
“I honestly forgot.” I sigh. “When Jordan mentioned proceeding with custody, I wasn’t certain I would. Roxie and I said we’d work something out, and I thought we were. I thought things were good.”
Sadie tilts her head. “I thought so, too. Why does anything have to change?”
“It doesn’t, but you’re my daughter, and I want you to live with me.” Her eyes widen, startled by the admission. I’m startled as well, as this is the first time I’ve spoken my feelings out loud. “I want you to live with me.”
As Sadie stares at me, I continue. “Of course, you’ll have a say in where you want to live. Reside. And I’ll do what you want. I’ll still see you all the time no matter what you decide.” I honestly mean what I say. Sadie will probably request to remain with Roxie, the relative she knows best and who her mother wanted her to be with, and I’ll follow whatever Sadie wishes, but I want her to know that I want her as well.
“Where you live changes nothing for me.” I reach for her and shake her shoulders until I’m certain she understands. When she nods, I pull her into me for a deep hug. It’s rare that I touch her. Rarer still that we’ve hugged, but when her arms come around me, my throat clogs. She’s my daughter, and there can’t be any greater feeling than holding your child, no matter what age.
When she pulls back, I keep my arm over her shoulder, tugging her into my side because it’s freaking freezing out here.
“You need to fix this with Aunt Roxie,” Sadie states. “I…I love you both, and I don’t want her hurting because of you.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of loving me. I’m not certain she means it on a deeper level, but I take those three words and tuck them in my pocket.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I say, lowering my voice. “I don’t want her hurting either.” I don’t. I just don’t know how to undo what I’ve done.
“What did you do?” Sadie asks, her voice reminiscent of Roxanne’s when she entered my office nearly two months ago, chewing me out for my behavior toward Sadie after our first meeting.
“I said some things I didn’t mean, and then I said more things I didn’t mean.”
God, I’m such an asshole.
“So say some new things to make her feel better.”
“It’s not that easy,” I say to my daughter as I walk her back to her apartment.
“It’s also not that complicated,” Sadie states. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“She’ll never speak to me again.” I scoff.
“I think she’s already there, so you have nothing left to lose,” Sadie teases without humor. But she’s wrong, I already feel like I’ve lost everything. If I don’t have Roxanne, I don’t have the all that I long for. Her and Sadie. “And most of all, say you’re sorry.”
I look forward as we walk, not certain how to do any of the things Sadie suggests. Talk to Roxie. Beg for forgiveness. Apologize.
“You can do this, Dad. I have faith in you.”
The words stop me short, and I stumble as we walk.
I have faith in you.
She might be the first person who ever has, and I realize she might be the most important person who will, and I don’t want to disappoint her.
36
Case closed
[Roxanne]
Billy exits the courtroom while I wait my turn. We interview separately with the court-appointed liaison. He looks as miserable as I feel, but I can’t think about him. I need to think about Sadie. What’s best for her? She’ll interview next, and I’m not allowed in the room. Sadie has a child advocate assigned to her for her protection in the interview process.
When it’s my turn, I note how cold, sterile, and impersonal I think the room is. The preliminaries are explained, and a series of questions are asked about my relationship with Sadie. I’m also asked a few questions about Theresa, and I try to be fair in my answers. She isn’t present and can’t defend herself, and I remind the interviewer that Theresa isn’t on some sort of trial for her decision.
“Just establishing background and the relationship between Ms. McAllister and Mr. Harrington.”
“There wasn’t a relationship,” I say. Just sex, I want to add, feeling a strange similarity to my circumstances with him. Pure, unadulterated passion and I miss him although I hate him.
As we near the end of our session, the liaison asks, “Is there any reason Billy Harrington shouldn’t have Sadie living with him?”
My tongue thickens, and my mouth refuses to move. I don’t have any objection other than my own emotional attachment to Sadie. Was she not listening? Did I not spell out for her all the things I’ve done? How involved I am with Sadie and always have been? How much I love her? These questions race through my mind as a hollow feeling knocks the wind from me.
It’s over, isn’t it?
“If someone were to come forward to discredit Mr. Harrington, would you find any justification in claims against his ability to parent?”
“I don’t understand.” I squint at her.
“If someone made a statement against Mr. Harrington’s character, questioning his parenting ability, would you object?”
“Did that happen?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” she continues.
“So it did, didn’t it?”
She holds her face still, guarded and firm. Did something happen? Did someone come forward to discredit Billy?
“Honestly,” I begin, taking a deep breath as I straighten in my seat. “I can’t find any reason Sadie shouldn’t live with Billy. My feelings are selfish. I want her with me because she’s my only family.” I blink, eyes filling with traitorous tears as the truth slips forward. “But from the moment it sank in that Sadie was his daughter, Billy has made an effort to get to know her and be active in her life. He’s been amazing with her. He has an odd work schedule, but he’d accommodate as needed.”
“Do you see the pub as a deterrent? A possibility he might leave Sadie alone too often?”
“She’s sixteen. She can be unsupervised for a while,” I emphasize. “But no, I don’t think he’d do that to her.” And I didn’t. If Sadie was at his home, he’d make sure he was present.
“And the possibility of dating?”
My brows pinch at the abrupt question. “Mr. Harrington doesn’t date.” He has said it himself. However, he hasn’t subjected Sadie to anyone in the two months she’s known he was her father. He admitted he doesn’t bring women to his home. Strangely, it’s the one thing I do believe about him, and I pause with the thought.
I went on a date with him.
I was at his home.
I was in his bed.
The interviewer wraps up by thanking me for my time. “The judge should rule quickly. Judge Bernard wants the case wrapped up before the holidays, and it’s pretty straightforward.”
I reach out for the interviewer’s arm before she stands. “Do you think Sadie will stay with me?”
Her lips twist. “Honestly, ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s the biological parent who wins these things. Despite the estrangement, he’s stepped up, right? He’s her father, but the final say comes down to Sadie. The judge will weigh her feelings and perspective. She’s so close to eighteen, any decision would only be a rule for a few years.”
Her dismissal of Sadie’s age, as if two years is no time at all, doesn’t settle well with me, but I nod, accepting her explanation as I stand. Billy has a right to Sadie despite the years I’ve spent with her and the love we share. The fact he shares direct DNA with her overrules everything else.
As we leave the room, I’m surprised to see Mr. Harrington, Billy’s father, waiting outside the door.
&nbs
p; “Mr. Harrington?” I step up to shake his hand, but he reaches for my shoulders and kisses my cheeks.
“Roxanne, lovely to see you again.” He pulls back and smiles warmly.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m next.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, and I panic a little, knowing his opinion of his son and their history. Images of getting caught on Billy’s lap on his bed flip to the forefront of my mind. Our position played into Billy’s playboy reputation. I also slapped his son in front of him.
I shouldn’t be concerned about who testifies in favor or against Billy, but panic strikes when I see his father. Billy’s told me of their strained relationship.
“William,” I snap into the phone when he answers on the first ring as I’m exiting the courthouse.
“Roxie,” he groans, minus any irritation. He almost sounds relieved.
“Did you know your dad was going to the courthouse?”
“So?”
“He was there to testify after me.”
“It’s not a trial, Roxanne. No one’s going to jail.”
I pause before I enter my car, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. I thought he might be concerned. It’s his dad. The man he claims he’s never pleased.
“I was trying to be helpful. I thought you might like to know.”
“You’re concerned about me?” His tone is sharp, and I yank open my car door with more force than necessary. As I slip into the cold vehicle, I sit with the phone pressed to my ear.
“It’s your dad, Billy.” I pause, deciding I’m making more of this than I should. “You know what, never mind. I have to go.”
“Roxie, I—”
I click off the phone before I can hear anything else. Just hearing his voice made my heart ache again, but he was too curt. I toss the phone on the seat next to me and start the car as tears fill my eyes. Memories rush forward of losing my mother, my father, and my sister. And Sadie will be next. I’ll be alone.
37
Fathers and sons
[Billy]
“What the fuck?” I hang up the phone and stare at my oldest brother as I slip the device into my back pocket.
“What’s up?” We’re standing inside the brewery in what we call the passion lab. It’s a place where we experiment with ingredients and combinations and design the next flavors for our brew. Although it’s the holidays, we need to be a season ahead, so we’re working on summer stock, and by we, I mean me.
Yep, I have another little secret.
“Roxie called and said Dad is being interviewed regarding my case with Sadie.”
Giant shrugs like this isn’t a big deal.
“Giant, it’s Dad. The judgmental prick. The one who thinks I fuck everything up.”
“He doesn’t think that.” He unstoppers a growler and pours a sample we’ve been brewing for a bit. “Here.”
Giant isn’t a chemist. He’s a businessman. While Dad knew all the classic recipes, passed down from generation to generation and perfected over time before craft brewing became legal in Georgia, Giant wasn’t a master brewer. He accepted his position as head of company because the brewery needed more, and he needed a place to plant his feet after his medical discharge. He believed diversity was the way to grow, and he needed specialty flavors—limited selection promoting urgency.
That’s where I come in.
Our grandfather used to bring me into this room and allow me to play with the ingredients. After a hard day under my father’s demeanor and disappointment, Pap knew I needed to learn something for me—
have my own secret success—and he decided this is where it would be. The passion lab.
I sip a swill from the sample, almost rinsing my mouth with the liquid, and then swallow, waiting on an aftertaste.
“Almost,” I say, thinking the fermentation needs a bit longer.
“Dad won’t say anything against you.” Giant tries to assure me, pausing a minute as the expression on his typically stern face turns sterner. Is that even a word? I was the one who didn’t do well with decoding words.
“What happened with Roxanne? The other night, you let her go and then went into the back with Kristy Moseley.” There’s a question he isn’t asking. My brother’s loyal to a fault, and he’s never appreciated my ways. My old ways.
“Nothing happened with Kristy.” I shake my head, getting tired of defending myself. So tired. I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Everything is so fucked up.”
“Look, I’m the last to dispense advice about love.” My brows rise at my brother’s use of the word. “But if you want Roxie, you need to chase. Run. Do not stop to collect two hundred dollars. Go after her.”
I stare at my brother. “Who are you, and what have you done with Giant Harrington?”
He shakes his head, the corner of his lip curling upward. He nonchalantly shrugs, and I don’t really need an answer. I know what’s making my hard brother soft. His girl, Letty.
“I don’t see you running,” I poke the bear, although Giant has been traveling almost every other weekend to see his long-distance girlfriend.
“It’s complicated, but the second it’s not, I’ll be chasing.”
“Are you leaving the brewery?” I’d be shocked. This is our family legacy. This is his legacy. His name is on the bottle, for heaven’s sake.
“Not if I can help it. It’s complicated for now, but let’s finish talking about you. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” I huff, placing both hands on the edge of the table. “Sadie and Roxie are like a package deal. I want Sadie. She’s my daughter, but Roxie”—I exhale—“I just want her.”
Over the past few days, I’ve had time to reflect on my actions, accepting I did what I did because I misinterpreted her expression after wall sex. I pushed her away because I thought she was going to walk away. I had to be first, but I’ve missed her every second afterward. The habit of speaking to her every day, seeing her in some way, has become too easy, so routine, and I don’t want to give it up. I wanted to add her in my bed nightly as part of that routine, but I’ve fucked it all up.
Giant chuckles. “Then what are you going to do about the mess you made?”
“Grovel. Beg. Apologize. The usual,” I state, although none of those things are the usual for me. I don’t chase. I walk away, and I’m finding it hard to figure out how and when to lay myself out to Roxanne, if she’ll even listen to me.
“Is she scared?” Giant asks.
“Nothing scares Roxie.” I snort.
Giant shakes his head. “Wanna bet? If you get Sadie, who does Roxie have left?”
My eyes narrow at my brother. “Meaning?”
“She doesn’t have any other family, right? Without Sadie, she’s—”
“She’s not losing Sadie.”
“Isn’t she?” His thick brows rise again. “If Sadie moves in with you, that leaves Roxie alone.” Giant reaches for another growler, popping the top and pouring another sample. He slides the glass to me, but I haven’t moved. My hands grip the edge of the table.
“I won’t let her be alone. She has Sadie and me.”
“Does she?” Giant tips his chin, noting I should drink. But nothing will taste good as acid fills my throat.
“Of course, she does.”
“How does she know that? You conveniently forgot to tell her about the interviews. You flirted with Kristy. You know how the blasted rumors run in this town. I’m afraid to even ask what else you’ve done.”
“Because it’s always my fault,” I snap.
Giant levels me with a glare. “Because in this case, it is. Have you reassured her of anything? Can she trust you?”
“Fuck you, Giant.”
“What’s going on here?” Our father’s voice fills the room, and I chew on my lip as I hang my head. Not this. Not now. Another question is coming. What am I doing in this sacred room? I stand still, crossing my arms and resting my hip against the table. My head remains lowered, a cros
s between getting caught and an admission of guilt.
“You know this is where the magic happens,” Giant states to our father cool and calm as if it’s no big deal I’m standing in this private room within the brewery. George Jr.’s eyes are pinned on me, and all I see is his determination to make me speak. I rejected this business, walked away to run my own, and he never forgave me, calling me a quitter as I’d done with college and Rachel.
“I do know,” my dad states, continuing to stare at me, emphasizing his awareness.
I unfold my arms and stiffen my back, preparing to leave. Giant and I won’t be able to continue with Dad present.
“How was the courthouse?” Giant asks, and I freeze after my head pops up to him.
What’s he playing at?
“Oh, you know, Bernard and I go way back,” Dad states, dismissively waving a hand like it was routine to stop in and see the old judge.
I turn to face him. “What did you do?” The accusation catches in my throat, and I fight the chill running up my spine.
“I didn’t do anything. He just wanted to talk to me.”
“I don’t need any favors,” I stammer, the statement sarcastic. Did he try to pull strings against me? We glare at one another for a long minute until I’m the one to break. “I’ll be a good father. I might not be perfect, but I’m still going to try.”
I hate how I sound, weak and uncertain, exposing my fear that I won’t be good enough, but I still want this. I want Sadie. And I want Roxie. A family. The new norm for me has slowly been developing when I didn’t see it ever happening. Sadie, Roxie, and me. We are a family—my family—and even though we may be unconventional, the rightness is there. My heart stills. My lungs pause. And it hits me. I realize the thing I want most in my life, and I suddenly know what I need to do to get it.
“You don’t have to be perfect. Trying is all any parent can do.”
I snort, looking back at my father. “Right? Coming from the perfect parent, that’s sage advice.”
“You think I’m perfect?” Dad huffs. “I’ve failed higher than I can count, but the key to anything is to get back up and keeping move forward. You should know this.”
