by Emma Scott
“I’m not her father.”
I reeled, his words pushing me back a step from his chair. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.
“What…what are you saying? Of course you are.”
Sawyer looked around at me, shaking his head miserably.
“I’m not. I took a paternity test when Molly first left her with me. I’m not a match, but it doesn’t matter. Even after only a few days of having her in my life, she was mine. I tried to take her to CPS with Jackson. He tried to convince me it was the best thing, that I was crazy to try to raise her on my own. But I couldn’t do it. Molly told me she was mine and that’s how I thought of her. I still do. In my heart and fucking soul, she’s mine and I love her.”
He bit off the words, fighting for control.
“It doesn’t matter to me what some stupid fucking test says. It only matters what I feel.” He shook his head, a harsh, bitter laugh breaking free. “But turns out, that doesn’t matter either. The court is going to order another paternity test. The Abbotts will demand one, and when the results come out, I’m going to lose her.”
I put my hands back on his shoulders, shaking my head. “No. They can’t do that. Not after so long. She calls you Daddy,” I bit back my own tears. “Because you are her daddy and they have to see that. They have to.”
He shook his head and a small silence fell. I pulled myself together and Sawyer’s shoulders rose and fell under my hands as he took deep breaths to compose himself.
“Do you have help? A lawyer?”
“Jackson.”
I bit my lip. “He does taxes…”
“I can’t afford anyone else. And I trust him.”
“Okay. Okay good.”
I kept massaging Sawyer, working at his shoulders; the coiled knots of worry that his deepest fear was coming true. His entire body hummed with tension and I felt so helpless to do anything for him but this. I dug my thumbs into the hard muscles of his back, working circles over his shoulder blades, then back up, over his collar bone.
For long moments, there was silence. I didn’t know what else to do or what to say. I could only try to ease his pain somehow, because I had nothing else.
Sawyer didn’t move and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep, chin to his chest. Then his hand rose to take one of mine. He pressed my palm to his lips and I sucked in a breath as the kiss slipped up my arm, raising goosebumps, then spread over my shoulder and chest like a flame.
Sawyer turned my hand over and kissed the back, then held it to his cheek, still saying nothing. My heart thumped hard as he pulled me around in front of him, and then sideways onto his lap.
Face to face, and so close, he was breathtaking, but his eyes were so heavy. I lifted my hands and continued the massage, pressing circles on either side of his face, at the hinge of his jaw, below his eyes, his forehead. Then I grazed my fingernails along the sides of his head, just above his ears, over and over.
Our gazes never broke, we shared a breath, and then his hand was on my thigh. The other slipped up to hold my cheek, and even that small touch I felt everywhere. It scared me how much I wanted him.
“Did it help?” I asked. “I want to help.”
He nodded. “You’re the best thing in my life right now, Darlene,” he said hoarsely. “The only good thing.”
And then he kissed me. Like a drowning man needing a breath, he kissed me hard and desperately, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain. His hand found the back of my head, and he made a fist in my hair, gently but urgently, pressing me closer, deeper; holding me to him when I felt weightless. My mouth opened for him; Sawyer holding me to his kiss was the only reason I didn’t float away.
A little moan of want fell out of my mouth and he took it in his. The kiss deepened as I came back to myself, wanting to feel every second, every sensation. His tongue ventured into my mouth and another little sound escaped me. My arms went around his neck, my fingers slid into his hair, nails grazing as our kiss intensified.
Sawyer’s breath rasped in his nose as he kissed me harder, his arms wrapped around me now, both hands in my hair now, angling my head to take him deeper. The bite of his teeth on my lower lip made me dizzy and the chair was suddenly too small to contain us.
But Sawyer wrenched himself away from me, shocking me with the sudden break. He gently but quickly moved me off his lap and strode to the kitchen where he stood with his back to me, head bowed, hands resting on the counter.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Shit, I’m sorry, Darlene, I shouldn’t have done that. Everything is so fucked up right now, and kissing you is like stepping outside of a nightmare.”
I nodded quickly, thinking of my original reason for coming here tonight. “Me too. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“We can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t do this to you.” He turned to face me, carved his hand through his hair. “Goddamn, Darlene, now? Why is this, why are we happening now? My whole life is about to implode. I have nothing to give you. Nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” he said tiredly. “You deserve someone who’s not stretched to the goddamn breaking point every second of his life.” His jaw clenched and his dark eyes shone. “I was close to being done and now this hearing...”
“I know,” I said in a small voice.
“I have to fight for her,” he said, his tone hardening. “I have to put everything I have into that. No, not just that. I have to pass the bar, and get the goddamn clerkship so that I can prove I can provide for her. Fuck.”
He rubbed his eyes and my heart broke for him, for the weight that was pressing down on him, trying to crush him.
“I know it’s so hard for you right now...”
“Too hard. I feel like my fucking heart is being torn in half. I’m scared shitless about losing Olivia, and yet when I’m with you, I see something real. For the first time in my life, I want whatever we have to be real.”
Real. But I’m a liar. A fraud. He doesn’t know me, I haven’t told him anything.
He shook his head. “But I can’t give you anything right now but stress and pain. When all this shit blows over…” he said hoarsely. “If I still have her when it’s done...”
“You will. You will, Sawyer.”
His jaw worked and for a moment he said nothing. “I don’t know, Darlene. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. But when it’s all done and if I have Olivia,” he swallowed hard. “Then I can really be with you, if you still want that. Or at least we can try. Until then…” He let his hands drop to his sides. “I have nothing.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “But I understand. I do. And I’m supposed to be working on myself, and God knows there’s still so much left to do. To say to you.”
I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand.
“But I can be here for you,” I said. “As a friend. Or to babysit Olivia if you need me to. Whatever you want, okay?”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
I moved to the door, feeling like I was running away, but God, how could I tell him anything when he was about to face the fight of his life? Keeping Olivia was the most important thing right now, but it still felt like a cop out.
“Tell me how the hearing goes,” I said, opening the door. “Tell me if you need anything. Anything at all. Tell me…”
Tell me you’ll forgive me when you know the truth.
The words stuck in my throat, and I flew out of his place, tears spilling over.
I guessed not being so much of a coward was something I still needed to work on.
Sawyer
I didn’t want to—seeing her was too painful now—but I needed Darlene sooner than I’d expected. The day before the hearing, Elena told me she had a family emergency in the East Bay, and couldn’t babysit. Henrietta was out of town for a wedding so I had no choice but to ask Darlene.
She agreed readily, even though it meant taking the day off her work. I added her lost wages to the tally of things I
owed all the people who helped me during these last ten months.
And maybe it was all for nothing.
Friday morning, Darlene came downstairs to watch Olivia in my place. Her eyes were heavy and warm, and she hugged me tight.
“We’re just friends right now,” she said. “This is a friendly hug, but I’m putting every bit of my positive energy and best thoughts into it that this hearing goes how it’s supposed to. For you.”
I held her tightly, feeling her dancer’s body mold to mine. I closed my eyes, my cheek against her hair, and inhaled her so I could keep some of the light and life she was giving me.
God, you’re turning into a sap.
But I needed all the damn help I could get.
Jackson met me at the Duboce Muni, and we took a train to the Civic Center at eight a.m. Outside the Superior Courthouse, my friend stopped me with a hand to my arm.
“You ready?” Jackson asked.
“No.”
“That’s the spirit!” He chucked me on the arm. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
I smoothed down the lapel of my best suit—a slate gray jacket and pants with a white shirt, and ruby-colored tie. Jackson looked impeccable in blue and beige, a briefcase in his hand. We climbed the steps—me on wooden legs—and into the courthouse where we followed the signs for the Family Court. Jackson spoke in a low voice as we walked.
“This might be a bit of a battle but I’ve done my homework and I’m sure you’ve got the entire Family Law Code memorized.”
“Section 7611, subsection D,” I said.
“Exactly. Additionally, we can show removing Olivia from your custody would be detrimental to her. You’re providing for her in a safe environment and have been for months. Courts don’t like taking children out of good homes.”
“They’re her family, Jax.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “Fuck me, I was so close. A few more weeks and the year would have been up.”
“We can’t worry about that now. Fight the fight in front of us, okay?”
I nodded. We’d arrived at the designated room on the hearing notice. “Breathe. Stay calm. Think positive.”
“Thank you doing this,” I told him. “For taking time off work…”
“Forget it,” he said. “You’re my family, too. And so is she.”
“Jesus, don’t say shit like that,” I said with small laugh. I blinked my eyes hard.
“I’m trying to wipe that serial-killer look off your face,” he said.
I tried to loosen the stiff expression, but I was fighting for my kid. My life. I left the smiling to Jackson.
Inside, the Abbotts were on their side of the courtroom, at a table with Holloway. They turned to watch me come in and the small smiles on their faces faded at my glare. I tore my eyes away. Instinctively, I liked them. Down deep, somewhere beneath the fear, I wanted to know them.
That’s just your shitty childhood talking. They’re here to take Olivia away from you.
I sat down stiffly at the table with Jackson, eyes forward, and didn’t look their way again.
“All rise.”
We got to our feet as the bailiff announced Judge Allen Chen, a stern-looking man, with dark hair that was graying along the sides. He put on glasses as he inspected the paperwork in front of him.
“In the matter of Olivia Abbott, a minor child, there is an order before the Court to show cause for custody filed by Gerald and Alice Abbott, maternal grandparents.” He glanced up at Jackson. “I’ve read the preliminary facts of the case and I’m familiar with the position of Mr. and Mrs. Abbott. I’d like to hear from Mr. Haas, please.”
Jackson got to his feet. “Your Honor, my client has been raising Olivia since her mother disappeared ten months and two weeks ago. At that time, she made it clear that Sawyer was the father of their child. Pursuant to 7611 of the Family Law Code, section one, subsection D, Sawyer received Olivia into his home and openly held out that she was his natural child. He has provided a home, food, safety; healthcare via his university, and has been a devoted and loving father. The law clearly grants therefore, in black and white, that he is her natural father and should retain full custody.” Jackson held out his hands. “Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re here.”
Mr. Holloway rose to his feet. “That is a very narrow reading of the law,” he began. “Molly Abbott did leave Olivia with Mr. Haas, though what she told him with regards to his paternity is a matter of hearsay. The birth certificate, of which we have retained a copy, lists no father. Additionally, neither Mr. Haas, nor his attorney, have provided us with a copy of the results of any paternity test.”
Jackson was back on his feet. “Uniform Parentage Act, Your Honor?”
Judge Chen nodded. “Quite so.” He turned to Holloway. “The State of California is not in the habit of tearing children from a secure home environment without cause. The Court will determine whether a paternity test is warranted based on the evidence presented.”
“I understand, Your Honor, and to that end, we would like to read a notarized statement from Karen Simmons—friend to the deceased Molly Abbott—and to enter said statement into the record of proceedings here.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Jackson said, but the judge held up a hand.
“This is not a trial, but an evidentiary hearing. I’ll allow it.” He nodded at Holloway. “Proceed.”
Holloway set a pair of glasses on his nose.
“‘I, Karen Jane Simmons, do swear under penalty of perjury that the following is true and correct: Molly Abbott was a close friend of mine since we were thirteen years old. After high school, Molly began to drink pretty heavily, and traveled place to place, hooking up with different boyfriends. But we always managed to stay in touch. She told me when she got pregnant, and I met up with her in Bakersfield after the baby was born. She told me the baby’s father was a guy named Ross Mathis but that he wanted nothing to do with Olivia. Molly said she’d hooked up with another guy around the same time named Sawyer. He was studying to be a lawyer and that meant he was going to be well off. She said that her current boyfriend wouldn’t stay with her if she kept the baby so she was going to drive to San Francisco where Sawyer lived, and tell him it was his baby. I didn’t see her or hear from her again after that and was saddened to learn of her death. She was my best friend and I miss her.’
“Signed,” Holloway concluded, “Karen Simmons.” He took off his glasses. “Miss Simmons has provided text exchanges between her and Miss Abbott around the time in question that verify her statement, and has agreed to testify, either in deposition or in open court, should the Court desire it.”
Ross Mathis. Olivia’s natural father. Hearing the name brought bile to my mouth. He didn’t want his own child, but I did. I would fucking die for that girl, but instead I was fighting to keep her. Under the table, my hands clenched into fists.
“Your Honor,” Holloway said in a closing-statement kind of tone, “Alice and Gerald Abbott are loving, devoted people who lost their daughter to the terrible disease of alcoholism. They had no idea they had a granddaughter, and the instant they learned of her existence, they set about taking the steps to see her, to be with her, and to provide for her the kind of life she needs and deserves. At this time, they request weekend visitation rights, and that a paternity test be administered, to either establish or refute Mr. Haas’s claim that he is Olivia’s father, before any further steps are taken toward granting permanent custody. Thank you.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Even my pounding heart slowed to a heavy clang.
The judge nodded. “Supervised weekend visitation is hereby granted, and a paternity test shall be administered at the Health and Human Services department on Monday of next week.”
Jackson was on his feet again. “Your Honor, my client has just completed the requirements for graduating UC Hastings law school, and is set to take the bar exam in Sacramento the week after next. We request a postponement of all proceedings until the completion of the exam, to give him time
to focus and prepare without the threat of this outrageous and callous attempt to separate a loving father from his daughter hanging over his head.”
The Abbotts visibly flinched at this. Judge Chen fixed me with a scrutinizing look. I probably looked like nothing like a ‘loving’ father, but I remained still as stone, afraid I’d shatter if I moved.
“There is one other issue we feel is of interest to the Court,” Holloway said.
“Jesus, now what?” I whispered to Jackson.
He made a silencing motion with his hand.
“Mr. Smith has stipulated that his client has provided safe and adequate care for Olivia, yet a rudimentary investigation reveals that his childcare provider, Elena Melendez, is not licensed to run a daycare. She is merely a neighbor who babysits Olivia for eight hours a day while also taking care of her own two small children.”
Jackson shot to his feet.
“I believe the obvious health and happiness of Olivia speaks for itself. This is irrelevant, Your Honor, and frankly, it’s insulting to the good work and kindness of Ms. Melendez whom Mr. Haas pays appropriately for her excellent care.”
“I am merely speaking to the general environment in which the child is raised,” Mr. Holloway said. “Mr. Haas relies on unlicensed childcare from Ms. Melendez and occasionally from Darlene Montgomery, his upstairs neighbor.”
Jackson held up his hands. “Again. Relevance?”
“It’s relevant,” Mr. Holloway said, “as Ms. Montgomery was incarcerated for drug possession three years ago and spent three months in a New York County jail.”
It felt as is the air in the room had dropped twenty degrees, as I went cold all over.
“What’d he say?” I blurted stupidly. The words fell out of my mouth. I had to have misheard…
“Is this true, Mr. Haas?” the judge asked.
Jackson looked to me, eyes full of questions.
I shook my head. “I don’t…I never…”
Darlene. Jail. Drug possession.
The words went around and around in my head individually but I couldn’t get them to make sense all together.
