LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2)

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “Ah! There’s daddy. I told you he’d be back soon, sweet pea!”

  She handed Beth over to me with a bottle of formula.

  “How’s it going in there?” she asked, as I fed my daughter.

  I swallowed several times before I answered.

  “They’re going to take her away from me, I know it.”

  Marcie gasped. “They can’t! Surely they’ll see . . .”

  “It’s going to happen,” I whispered, my heart full of despair.

  “Oh, Luka!”

  She put her hand over her mouth and I saw tears in her eyes.

  My throat felt tight and my chest ached. I blinked furiously. Now was not the time to break down.

  When the court reconvened, Beth was dozing in my arms, every now and then blowing little bubbles and trying to smile.

  I didn’t care anymore that she wasn’t supposed to be in the court, I walked back inside holding my daughter for every precious second that we had left together.

  Marcie followed, lugging the changing bag with her.

  The court usher tried to say something to me, but I brushed her off.

  Sarah made a small whimpering sound when she saw Beth, but her mother held her arm. Seth’s expression was torn. I think I hated him at that moment.

  When Judge Peyton walked back into the court, she frowned slightly, but then I saw her gaze soften as she looked at Beth in my arms.

  “Mr. Kokot, I have every sympathy for your situation, and regret the breakdown in the relationship between you and Miss Lintort. From what I can see, you’ve done a fine job in looking after your daughter.”

  A seed of hope began to swell inside my heart.

  “But I have to consider what is in Beth’s best present and future interests. A stable home-life with her mother—and grandmother—will benefit her more than constantly traveling with you and hired help.”

  Marcie bristled at that.

  “I also have to consider that your lifestyle,” the judge enunciated carefully, “is not conducive to stability. I am therefore awarding full custody to Miss Lintort, and I am putting a court order in place so you may not take Beth out of the country.”

  They were taking my baby.

  “This ruling will be revisited in six months, or sooner, should your domicile status change, and once you have applied for and been issued with a parental responsibility order.”

  She looked across the table at me.

  “Mr. Kokot, do you understand the ruling?”

  I tried to speak, but my throat was dry. Her words were distorted, as if she was speaking underwater.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “I love her!” I cried out. “I have held her and fed her and loved her for all this time. Her mother saw her once in three months! Once! She didn’t try! And now you’re taking her away from me and giving her to a stranger!”

  The judge’s voice was compassionate, but unbending.

  “Regretful as this is, Mr. Kokot, and I do mean that . . . the law is clear on this point: until you apply for the parental responsibility order, as I have advised, you have no legal rights to Beth at this time. I would also say that as you have no fixed address, since you are living in Miss Lintort’s home, this is not in your favor.”

  “This is bullshit!”

  “You will not use that language in my court,” she said, her voice severe with a clear warning.

  I wanted to yell and scream and shout. I wanted Sarah to know that Seth had betrayed us both. I wanted to make them understand that Beth meant everything to me.

  But I couldn’t do it. I knew it would destroy Sarah. I was tempted. I wanted to do it. But when I looked down at Beth, it was her mother’s beautiful blue-gray eyes staring up at me.

  “I understand,” I whispered.

  I snuggled Beth into my chest. Her little hand swatted at my cheek, feeling the moisture from my tears.

  “Moja princesa.”

  I stood up and walked over to Sarah, ignoring her mother. Gently, I lay Beth in Sarah’s arms, touching her petal-soft cheek one more time.

  “Look after our daughter,” I said.

  She nodded.

  “And Sarah?”

  “Yes?” she whispered, her eyes wide and wary.

  “I’ll never forgive you for this. Ever. If you think this over, you’re wrong. I’ll fight for my daughter, for my rights. It’ll never be over.”

  Her lips trembled and I thought she was going to say something. But then her mother whispered to her and Sarah turned away from me.

  Marcie grabbed my arm.

  “Are you going to just let them take her?”

  I hunched my shoulders miserably, too broken and angry to say another word.

  “But you love her!” she said, her voice rising. “He’s a good father!” she shouted at the judge. “No one could love that child more!”

  Sarah raised her eyes to me. I saw sorrow and regret laced with fear before she looked away.

  The judge paused briefly, but then walked out of the room.

  Beth was taken from me.

  At the last moment, Seth met my eyes as I strode out of that bastard courtroom.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “She’s my sister.”

  I SAT ALONE through the long night, allowing it to cover me, hide me, bathe me in darkness. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop wave after wave of bitter, angry thoughts.

  I hated the loneliness and betrayal that chased me. I despised myself for missing the man who’d willingly ripped my world apart. I hated what I loved.

  These months had tested me in ways I’d never imagined.

  The silence was unbearable.

  I wondered what Beth was doing now. Was she sleeping? Was she crying for me? Was she wondering why her world was so strange? Did she miss me?

  I couldn’t bear to think that she was afraid, feeling alone, wondering why I’d abandoned her.

  Her favorite toy, a rabbit with long ears, was clutched in my hand, and when I held it against my face, I could smell Beth’s sweet, milky scent.

  I’d been so naïve—I thought Seth was helping me, talking to me, staying with me—but all the time he was just making a list of things to use against me.

  He knew my name wasn’t on the birth certificate.

  He knew I didn’t have a solicitor, hadn’t been advised of my rights—or lack of them.

  And he knew I’d turned down a permanent contract in London—all things that decided my fate.

  I hated him, but I hated myself more. My stupidity, my pathetic, childish lack of thought had cost me. I should never have allowed this to happen. All because of some fucking piece of paper: Beth’s Birth Certificate.

  Rubbing my eyes, I opened the door to the backyard, and stood staring up at where the stars should be, but instead the sky was gray with clouds, and a thin drizzle chilled my face and dampened my shirt.

  I stood in the thin half-light of dawn, uncaring of the cold that seeped into my skin, my bones, my soul.

  When I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, I wished the numbness would spread to my whole body. But it didn’t lessen the burning pain in my heart. Finally, I walked inside, but didn’t make it any further than the kitchen before I slumped to the floor.

  I kept running through the words the judge had said. She thought Sarah could offer Beth a better life. Was she right? Was it true? I didn’t doubt that anyone could love her more than me, but was that enough?

  Eventually, I dragged myself up off the floor and forced myself to drink some scalding hot coffee. I burnt my tongue. I didn’t care.

  I plugged in my phone charger and googled ‘parental responsibility order’. It wasn’t encouraging. It suggested that I simply ask Sarah to put my name on the form. Hell, if she’d wanted me to have rights as Beth’s father, she’d have put my name on the birth certificate. I still couldn’t believe she’d done that to me. Everything had been so crazy since Beth was born, I hadn’t even thought about registering
the birth. But Mrs. Lintort had, and now I was being erased from Beth’s life.

  I looked at my phone again.

  If you have to go to court there is a duty to deal promptly with all matters concerning children and applications are treated as priority matters. The court fees are straightforward, but if you have to go to court you should obtain legal advice and discuss fees with your solicitor.

  I was supposed to be flying to Chicago in a week, but even if I did what was needed, I still wouldn’t have permission to take Beth out of the country.

  I could stay in London and beg Arlene for my job back, working for peanuts, and rent some overpriced shitty one-room apartment, trying to steal moments with my daughter. Or I could let her go, knowing that Sarah would give her a good life without me.

  It felt hopeless.

  By mid-morning, I was nearly crawling out of my skin. I had to see Beth. I had to.

  I showered quickly and called for a cab. I barely even noticed when the fare came to £43.

  I knocked on Mrs. Lintort’s front door and waited for it to open.

  She didn’t seem surprised to see me.

  “Hello, Luka.”

  “I’ve come to see Beth.”

  “I know. And you may come in, provided you agree not to raise your voice. Sarah is still very vulnerable, and it won’t be good for Beth to feel any tension.”

  “I know what’s good for Beth,” I ground out. “I’ve been taking care of her by myself for three months.”

  She surprised me by smiling sadly and nodding.

  “Yes, you have. Please come in.”

  I stepped past her, anxious to hear Beth’s voice, but the house was calm and silent. There was no music. Why was there no music? We always played music at home, anything and everything: Latin, modern, classical, pop, rock. Even Sarah had . . .

  Mrs. Lintort led me through to a small living room. Sarah was sitting there with Beth in her arms, peacefully feeding her formula.

  “Hello, Luka,” she said quietly.

  I was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone. There was another man in the room, but when he warily introduced himself as ‘James’, the pieces of the jigsaw began to fall together.

  “I’d like to talk to Sarah alone,” I said, ignoring his outstretched hand.

  He looked at Sarah who nodded quickly.

  “It’ll be fine, James. Thank you.”

  He gave me a hard stare, then left the room.

  Beth sensed me immediately as I came closer, and she waved her small hands, calling out loudly.

  Sarah put her into my arms without any argument. My whole body relaxed as I held her to me tightly.

  “Moja princesa,” I breathed out.

  “She missed you,” Sarah said softly. “For a while. But then I fed her and she fell asleep. She only woke twice in the night.”

  “I know,” I said, without looking up. “She’s a good baby.”

  “You’ve done a great job with her.”

  “Why did you do it, Sarah? You know how much I love her. I’d do anything for her. I’d fucking die for her!”

  I kept my voice low, but I could hear the anger in it.

  “I was ill,” she said calmly. “I’m better now.”

  “No! Why did you take Beth away from me?”

  I saw a brief flare of guilt in her eyes, but then it was replaced by a hard clarity.

  “You would have taken her away from me when you went on tour!”

  “Three months,” I grit out. “Three fucking months and you didn’t even try to see her! You lied to the judge.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. You have no idea . . . there are so many things I regret. But I won’t let you take Beth out of the country. She belongs here. With her family.”

  “I’m her family!”

  “I won’t stop you from seeing her, Luka. You love her. I know that.”

  “I’ll be touring! I won’t see her for months!”

  “She’ll be better off here.”

  “No, she won’t! What if you decide it’s too hard again?”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes. “I won’t.”

  “But you could!”

  “I have my family. I have my mother and . . .”

  “Seth,” I said bitterly. “You have Seth.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she took Beth from me.

  “The least said about that the better.”

  I leaned down and pressed a kiss to Beth’s downy cheek.

  She squawked softly, a worried frown on her face as her tiny fists tried to reach me. My heart ripped down the center. I had to leave before I broke down in front of my daughter.

  “Don’t rush to grow up, princesa,” I choked out. “The world is not a kind place.”

  And then I left.

  James was waiting for me outside the room.

  “I’ve loved Sarah for years,” he said. “I hoped that when she came to Australia we’d be able to make a go of it. It could have worked. But when she found out she was pregnant, all she could think of was coming back to London. To you.”

  His voice was bitter.

  “She says she doesn’t love me, but I’m a patient man. I’ll be here. Waiting. I thought you should know that. I’ll take good care of her. I love her.”

  “So did I.”

  “You sure about that?”

  I stared at him, tamping down the anger. “Very sure.”

  He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, and left me alone.

  I knew that when I walked down the street, half my heart would be left behind.

  Touching Beth’s baby-soft skin was like touching heaven. She was perfect. She was mine, part of me.

  And now I had to say goodbye.

  The door closed behind me, leaving me numb and cold. My steps weighed heavily as I walked away.

  Walked away.

  I turned once to stare behind me, and saw a flicker of movement in one of the upper windows. Seth was standing there, watching me. He raised his hand, but when I just stared back, his hand dropped to his side.

  I turned away.

  I’d passed through the fire of love and hate and betrayal, and had been tempered by it, hardened, finished in cold steel. The last thing I needed was emotion. To feel anything.

  I saw Beth every day before I caught my flight to Chicago. I wasn’t allowed to take her out of Mrs. Lintort’s house. They didn’t trust me, thinking I’d run away with her. I’d thought about it, seriously thought about it, but I knew it would be a dumb thing to do. Not that I seemed capable of making many good decisions.

  Beth seemed content, which both pleased me and wounded me. My selfish side wanted to see her needing her papa; the better part of me was glad that she was thriving.

  Sarah and I communicated briefly, speaking in short, painful sentences, a chasm of despair and regret between us.

  I ended up talking to Mrs. Lintort. She was friendlier than I’d expected, perhaps more critical of Sarah than of me. Perhaps. We’d reached an entente, I guess you could say.

  I didn’t see Seth, which was a relief, although James turned up a few times. At least he’d been honest with me when he said he was playing the waiting game with Sarah. Right now, he was acting like her best friend, and I think she needed that. I missed my friend, but I couldn’t forgive her. Maybe not ever. I’d started building a future with Beth, a good one, and that had been ripped away from me.

  I’d applied for the parental responsibility order, infuriated to hear that one had already been granted to Mrs. Lintort. Sarah refused to talk about it, and I got the distinct impression she was punishing me for . . . well, it was probably a very long list.

  It was like having a flower in my hand as I pulled the petals off one by one. I love her. I hate her. I love her. I hate her. I wanted to hate every part of her, but she’d given me Beth: Beth was half of each of us, so I couldn’t hate Sarah completely. But by Kristus, I tried.

  It would be a couple of weeks before I could expect to hear anything from the courts, and
by then I’d be 4,000 miles away.

  An ocean between me and my child.

  I needed to reconcile my old world with the new, finding happiness again. If I could.

  And then, on a mild day in March, the air full with the promise of Spring, I left.

  “I DON’T LIKE Laney much,” Yveta said.

  I frowned at her as I laced up my jazz sneakers, preparing for the next part of our rehearsal for Life Circles.

  The story we’d developed was personal to all of us in some way. Not as brutal and shocking as Slave, but just as powerful emotionally—we hoped.

  The story would be of two brothers and the different paths each would choose in life. One brother was played by Ash, and the other by me.

  Each had challenges in their life, Ash with his story of struggle and triumph, Laney’s disability and determination to live a full life; and my story. A man-child who chose the difficult path, loved the wrong people, and had a daughter.

  We were trying to decide which songs would be the key to this section. I favored a Tango to Shawn Mendes’ Stitches, but Ash wanted something more hopeful, and suggested a contemporary Paso to Evanescence’s Bring Me Back To Life. Yveta was dancing the role of my girlfriend. Neither of us wanted to admit that it was based on Sarah, but it was pretty fucking obvious. It was draining, pouring all those angry emotions into the dance, and confusing to feel so much rage against Yveta. It was hard to turn it off sometimes. But she understood, so we were cool. I just needed some down time after rehearsals.

  For now, we were working on both dances to see which we preferred. It was possible we’d end up using both the Tango and the Paso, but Selma was a little worried that the show would run over the allotted time.

  But at least now Syzygy Dance Theater had a permanent rehearsal space. Oliver had renovated a vast warehouse building into a state-of-the-art studio. I felt guilty that I hadn’t been here to help him. Great: something else to feel guilty about.

  Yveta laughed lightly as I frowned at her comments about Laney.

  “I know, I know. No one is allowed to say that about the great Laney—poor, long-suffering, Laney.” Then she sighed. “I do respect her, but she’s just so . . . happy! It’s annoying.”