by Linda Warren
“Did you love this other man?”
“Of course not. It was a one-night stand—a young guy who worked at the bank. Your father didn’t seem to want me anymore and I felt unattractive and unwanted. I’m also one of those women who needs to feel wanted. Tony, that was his name, made me feel young and attractive and it went to my head. I made a colossal mistake. Afterward, I was so ashamed, but I couldn’t go back and change it.”
“What happened to Tony?”
“About a month later he transferred out of the bank to another city and I was glad about that. Every time I saw him it reminded me of what I’d done. With him gone I didn’t have to think about it anymore. Then I discovered I was pregnant. Luckily I was feeling so guilty I pressured Ted into making love. So he naturally thought Delia was his.” She took a breath. “When Delia was about four, I heard Tony was killed in a motorcycle accident.”
“Did he know he had a child?”
“No,” Irene replied with stubborn lift of her chin. “Delia was Ted’s daughter in every way that counted.”
Macy stared at her mother. “Then why did you shut Dad out? You wouldn’t let him discipline her or connect with her on any level.”
Irene swallowed. “When we found out about the ADHD I was so afraid he’d find out the truth—that Delia wasn’t his.”
Macy inhaled deeply. “It didn’t work, did it?”
“No.” Irene studied her long fingernails. “I never realized Ted suffered so much, but then I should have. I was married to him.”
“It breaks my heart to think of him in a homeless shelter without anyone to care for him.”
Irene brushed away a tear. “I thought he just didn’t care about us anymore.” She hiccuped. “I destroyed my family. I’m the one to blame. There, I’ve admitted it and it hurts like hell.”
Somewhere in the conversation Macy knew she’d become the adult, the one to step forward and make everything right. “Maybe, but we have to get beyond that now and think about Delia. She’s the one who has been hurt the most.”
“I don’t think there’s any way to save Delia. She’s been set on a course of self-destruction for a long time.”
Macy grew thoughtful, and glanced at her mother. “Do you think she knows?”
Irene shook her head. “No. How could she? And I don’t want her to ever know.”
“Mom, I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”
“She’ll hate me.”
“That’s not anything new. Delia hates everyone and there has to be a reason for that.” Macy stood. “I better go.”
“I’m a pathetic woman trying to recapture her youth. You would think I’d have more sense.”
“Is that why you changed your clothes?”
“Partly. This morning your father and I went for coffee and talked for a long time. We finally talked without the anger. I saw myself through his eyes and what I saw was a trampy woman. I didn’t like that feeling.”
“You and Dad went for coffee?”
“Yeah. Neither one of us like what we’ve done to our children. Looking back together it was almost surreal as we could see our mistakes so clearly.”
That shocked her. She never thought her parents would have a normal conversation. They were both still so angry. At the tone of her mother’s voice she had to ask. “Do you still love him?”
Irene blinked and looked away. “Ted was my first true love and a part of me will always love him. That’s just something you can’t rip out of your heart, although I’ve tried.”
Macy wished she had a magic wand she could wave and turn back the years, erase the heartache and have the young, happy parents she had known. But those days were gone. Now they had to deal with the broken hearts, broken trusts and broken faith. The only cure she knew was love and that was in short supply these days.
Her mother stood and picked up her purse. “After your father left, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you or Delia. All I could feel was my pain and I was just emotionally empty. Please forgive me.”
“It was a hard time for all of us and it’s not my place to judge you. You’re my mother and I love you. That love is unconditional and…”
Her words trailed off as they rang a bell inside her head. Beau had said the same thing. My love is unconditional. It doesn’t come with a list, “must make babies, must be picture perfect.”
She was beginning to see what he’d meant. She was too blinded by the pain to recognize the real thing. Was she destined, like her parents, to destroy the good things in her life?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MACY HURRIED TO FIND Beau, though she knew she wouldn’t have time to speak to him about anything personal. Still, just seeing him would help tremendously.
Down the hall she could see him talking to Caleb and Tuck. He looked worried. If Caleb and Tuck were here that meant Delia was, too. She wondered where she was and what kind of mood she was in. As much as she hated to admit it, the outcome of this day would depend on Delia’s mood.
Beau saw her and came toward her. His warm, kind heart reminded her of everything that was good in this world and how lucky she’d been to have him in her life. Maybe soon she could tell him that. Of one thing she was certain—this day would not end until she did.
This is strictly business. That’s what he’d said and at the time that was the way she wanted it. But now…
“Is Delia here?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes.”
“Where? I want to speak with her.”
A shadow crossed his face. “I need to speak with you first.”
“What’s wrong?”
He took her arm and led her down the hall to a couple of chairs. Once they were seated he said, “I’ve already spoken to Delia.”
“And?”
“She’s angry and not cooperative.”
“Oh. Did she ask about Zoë?”
He shook his head. “No. She has no interest in keeping her baby.” He drew in a breath. “She signed a document stating she wants the Wallstons to have full custody of Zoë.”
“What?” She could feel the blood draining from her face.
“I feel she sold Zoë to the Wallstons, but I can’t prove it yet.”
“No. She wouldn’t do that.”
“Macy.” He sighed. “You said she talked about a plan. I believe that plan was to get as much money as she could from the father’s parents.”
She remembered little things that Delia had said. The father was out of the picture. She had a plan. A sick baby was no good to her. Still she couldn’t let herself believe it.
“Beau…”
“She was driving a new red Corvette.”
“Oh, no!” The reality finally sunk in. She jumped to her feet. “I need to speak with her.”
“Okay, but we don’t have a lot of time. It’s almost one and time for the hearing to start.”
“I just need a few minutes.”
They walked down the hall to Caleb and Tuck. She spoke, but she wasn’t sure what she said. Beau opened the door and they stepped in. Macy was taken aback for a second because she didn’t recognize the woman at first. The black hair threw her.
“Go away, Macy. I don’t want to talk to you.”
That was definitely her sister’s angry voice. She sat down and stared at this young girl who was filled with so much hate.
“Stop looking at me and tell your freaking boyfriend to get these cuffs off.”
Macy frowned at Beau and he shook his head. “The judge has ordered her to testify and if we take the cuffs off she’ll try to get away.”
“Let me go because I won’t testify in your favor.”
“What?” Macy glanced at her sister.
“I want the Wallstons to have Zoë.”
Macy was angered by the blunt response. “Why did you leave Zoë with me then? Why didn’t you just take her?”
There was a noticeable pause.
“The kid had problems, and I couldn’t take a sick kid with me, could I?”
Macy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not that heartless. I know you’re not.”
“Oh, yeah,” Delia screamed. “There’s not any good left in me, Macy, so stop trying to find it. You’re not getting my baby, so get over it.”
Macy flinched.
“That a bit harsh for you? You were always the favorite one, the perfect daughter. Dad loved you and he never even noticed me. Well, I’m not giving you my daughter to make your life complete. Do that on your own and get out of my face.”
“I never realized you hated me so much.” She said it in a whisper, as if she didn’t want to hear herself say the words.
Delia turned sideways in the chair. “Go away, Macy.”
“It’s time to go.” She heard Beau’s voice, rose to her feet as if in a trance and walked into the hall.
“Macy.”
“I’m fine.” She knew what he was going to ask.
“You have to be,” he told her. “It’s time for the hearing to start and you have to be in control.”
“I will.” But inside she felt raw and beaten. Her sister hated her.
“Delia knows,” Beau said.
She blinked. “What?”
“Delia knows she’s not Ted’s daughter. That’s why she’s taking her anger out on you. You are his daughter.”
“Yes. That makes sense.” She glanced at the closed door. “I wish she’d talk to me.”
“Let’s concentrate on the hearing.”
She nodded. “Delia’s in no condition to raise Zoë and I don’t feel the Wallstons are right for her, either.” Her eyes held his. “Can we win this?”
“I’ll give it my best.”
As they took their seats in the courtroom, Macy knew that Beau’s best was all she needed. But with Delia against her she wondered if it would be enough.
IRENE AND TED sat behind Beau and Macy, and Beau was glad they were there to offer their support. Macy would need them today. He watched as the Wallstons took their place next to Spencer Harcourt. They were exactly like he knew they would be—sophisticated, cultured. Mrs. Wallston’s blond hair hung like a bell around her face and she wore a stylish suit. Mr. Wallston was also immaculately dressed, his brown hair without a speck of gray.
Harcourt presented his case stating a change of circumstance had occurred and that Zoë would be better off with her biological grandparents. Beau countered with the facts, starting with Zoë’s birth, her health problems, Delia’s disappearance and Macy’s care of Zoë. He didn’t leave out a thing, reiterating that a disruption in Zoë’s routine could only harm her. Dr. Pender testified about Zoë’s medical condition, the misdiagnosis. Dr. Cravey sent a statement to read concerning Zoë’s surgery and how Macy was an exceptional mother to Zoë.
Macy took the stand and he went over it again. In the end he asked, “Ms. Randall, why do you want custody of Zoë?”
“Because I love her. I love her as if she were my own child.”
Harcourt didn’t question Macy. There wasn’t much he could tear apart. He was basing his custody case on Delia.
Mrs. Wallston testified, saying how much they wanted Zoë, their dead son’s child. Harcourt elicited a moving story from her about how much they loved their son and how much they wanted a part of him to live on with them.
“Why do you feel Zoë will be better off with you?” Harcourt asked.
“Because we’re her grandparents and we want to give her a life that her father would have wanted for her. I always wanted a daughter, but I only had a son. I will shower her with love and attention and give her everything she needs. We’re her family and—” she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue “—I have to do this for my son. I appreciate all that Ms. Randall has done for Zoë, and if we had known about Zoë’s medical problems we would have been here to offer our support. We want what’s best for our granddaughter and we believe that is with her grandparents.”
“Thank you.” Harcourt took his seat.
Beau stood for the cross-examination. “Mrs. Wallston, how old are you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your Honor.” Harcourt was immediately on his feet. “Her age is irrelevant.”
“Your Honor, Mrs. Wallston is seeking custody of a baby. I think age is very relevant.”
“I agree,” the judge said. “State your age, Mrs. Wallston.”
Her lips tightened. “I’m sixty-two.”
“Will you be the primary caregiver for Zoë?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Will you be the one changing Zoë’s diapers, feeding her, putting her to bed, reading her bedtime stories and performing all the tasks that taking care of a baby requires.”
“Zoë will have a full-time nanny to attend to all her needs. She will want for nothing.”
“Except maybe your love.”
“Your Honor,” Harcourt called. “I resent this type of questioning.”
“Withdrawn,” Beau said, and took a moment. “Mrs. Wallston, how many other grandchildren do you have?”
“Two. A boy and a girl.”
“How often do you see them?”
“They’re in boarding school so it’s difficult to see them.”
“Does the school not allow visits?” Beau asked.
“They do, but we’d rather not disrupt their schooling.”
“So how often do you see your grandchildren?”
Mrs. Wallston cleared her throat. “We see them at Christmas and we make an effort on their birthdays.”
“Twice a year?”
“Yes.”
“You see your grandchildren twice a year. Do they know your name?”
“Your Honor,” Harcourt objected.
“Mr. McCain…”
“Withdrawn, Your Honor.”
Mr. Wallston testified next and Beau kept watching the door, hoping Jon would arrive with something. It was too late to call the office. It might be too late for anything.
Harcourt finished and Beau stood, praying for the door to open, but it didn’t. He was hoping Cynthia Wallston would arrive, but that didn’t happen, either. Now he had to go with a wing and a prayer.
“Mr. Wallston, do you know Delia Randall?”
“Not personally, no. Our son had an affair with her.”
“How did you know Delia was pregnant with your son’s child?”
“Delia called several times then she arrived at our home and said she gave birth to Keith’s daughter and she wanted us to have custody.”
“And you didn’t believe her?”
“No. We had a DNA test done.”
Beau went to his desk, pulled out the test, glanced at the door and walked back to Mr. Wallston. He laid it in front of him. He didn’t need to do this. He was stalling for time.
“The test proves conclusively that Clifford Keith Wallston is the biological father of Zoë Jane Randall?”
“Yes.”
He laid another piece of paper in front of him. “Can you tell us what that is?”
“Yes. It’s a document that Delia Randall has signed stating that she wants us to raise her daughter.”
“Mr. Wallston, why did Delia sign that document?”
“Because I told you she wants us to have custody.”
“You’re under oath, Mr. Wallston.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Did you pay Delia Randall to sign that document?”
“Of course not.”
Harcourt stood. “Your Honor, where is Mr. McCain going with this?”
“Mr. McCain…”
“That’s all, Your Honor.” Beau walked back to his seat cursing. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Delia was next. At this point, he didn’t want Delia to be the deciding factor. But he didn’t have much of a choice. The judge would have to decide, according to her testimony, whether to terminate her rights or give credence to her wishes. Now Beau would have to go after Delia. That was his only option.
“This isn’t going well, is it?” Macy whispered.
&n
bsp; “No.” He didn’t lie to her. “It doesn’t help that Delia isn’t on our side.”
The bailiff brought Delia in without the handcuffs. Caleb and Tuck stood at the back of the room and Beau knew they were making sure that Delia didn’t get away from them again.
She was sworn in and she told Harcourt the same story the Wallstons had. She felt Keith’s parents were better for her child.
Beau walked to the witness stand. “Ms. Randall, are you aware there’s a warrant out for your arrest?”
“I do now. Your Texas Ranger brother told me.”
“Why is there a warrant for your arrest?”
“They say I abandoned my baby, but I didn’t. I left her with my sister.”
Beau laid the note Delia had left in the hospital in front of her. “Did you write that?”
Delia glanced at the note. “Yes.”
“Would you please read it?”
She sighed. “‘Macy, I can’t do this. I can’t deal with a sick baby. Take care of Zoë. Delia.’”
“You wanted your sister to take care of your daughter?”
“At the time, yes.”
“What changed your mind?”
“The Wallstons have money and they can give Zoë a better life. Macy will just smother her to death like she did me and I don’t want that for Zoë.”
Beau saw Macy wince, but he turned his attention back to Delia. “By smother do you mean love?”
Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Go to hell.”
“Ms. Randall, I will not have that kind of language in this court.” The judge reprimanded her.
“Yeah, okay.”
The judge motioned for Beau to continue. He walked close and looked her in the eye. “Did you sell your baby to the Wallstons?”
“No.” She didn’t bat an eye.
“You just decided that Zoë would have a better life with them? These people who you don’t even know. These people who have money.” He was grasping at straws. He was debating his next move when Jon entered the court room. Relief sagged through him, but he didn’t let it show.
“Your Honor, may I have a moment to speak with my assistant?”
“You have one minute, Mr. McCain.”
