The Baby Battle

by Laura Marie Altom

  The dogwoods had been in full bloom that day. Tulips and daffodils had flavored the air.

  If he tried hard enough, willed it to be, he could smell the lone daffodil he’d plucked from a bunch to tuck behind Maria’s ear. The artist had captured that flower. Just as he’d captured Tag’s wife. Forever freezing them in time.

  Freezing them.

  Like curios to be put on a special shelf. Taken out only to be dusted once a week. That was what his lovely marriage had been reduced to.

  Wishing he were drunk, but in reality mind-numbingly sober, he sat right there on the cold tile floor. Cold. Like everything he now shared with his former wife.

  He was lonely.

  He missed Flynn.

  Most of all, he missed Liv. Her laugh, her sparkling eyes. And the idiocy of that missing was that she’d been here all along. Just a short drive from being in his arms. She wasn’t in a grave, but alive and warm and vibrant and proclaiming to love him, but he’d thrown that love away.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, standing, walking on autopilot to the hearth. Reaching his arms high, he took down Maria’s painting. He held it and held it and then kissed her goodbye.

  He painstakingly rounded up every photo, every souvenir and knickknack. Once he’d gathered a big pile, he took Maria’s treasured Louis Vuitton luggage that had cost him as much as a car and stuffed it full of her things. He took everything to the attic, then stashed her portrait in his walk-in closet.

  From there he took a shower and shaved. Dressed in his favorite black suit with the cobalt shirt and tie Alice always said he looked handsome in, and then he set out to reclaim his future.

  “WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE for dinner?” Olivia asked her son, peeking at him in the rearview mirror.

  He blew gurgling raspberries.

  “Mmm…sounds delicious.” She’d been introducing him to more solid foods, and on tonight’s menu she was thinking pureed ham. Which instantly reminded her of the ham Tag had helped her glaze, but she wasn’t going there—ever again.

  Pulling into the neighborhood, she waved at Leona, who was out working in the entry garden—her latest neighborhood volunteer position.

  Olivia approached her driveway, only to slam on the brakes. What the…

  Tag’s Hummer blocked the front door of her house. What was he doing here? Was he wanting time with Flynn? Would he want to stay here, or take him back to Little Rock? If that was the case, how was she supposed to graciously let her son go?

  Stomach knotted, she pressed her garage-door opener.

  Tag climbed out of his car to meet her as she got out of hers. “Hey.”

  She glared.

  “Brrr,” he said with a big grin. Rounding to the passenger side, he helped himself to Flynn, unbuckling him from his car seat. He hung the diaper bag over his shoulder and gave Flynn a playful toss in the air. “There’s my boy. You love to fly. You’re going to be a pilot, aren’t you?”

  “I—Is there a reason you’re here?” she asked. “Other than to make my son throw up?”

  “Our son. And, yes, as a matter of fact, I am here on a mission.”

  “Would you mind getting to it?” she snapped. “I have a lot to do.” Like scrubbing her son to free him from all of his father’s cooties. Childish, yes, but she couldn’t help it any more than she could help eating about four quarts of Ben & Jerry’s to cleanse herself from just having to see him.

  “Ooh, Mommy’s a little testy,” he had the gall to say to Flynn.

  “Are you here just to annoy me, or do you have a real reason for your visit?”

  “As real as it gets,” he said with a wink. “Invite me in?”

  Sighing, she eased her key into the lock. With any luck, he’d say what he had to say fast. Then she’d get him out of her house, making sure he understood that in the future, when he wanted to visit Flynn, he’d need to at least be courteous enough to make an appointment.

  Tag pressed the garage-door down button.

  In the kitchen, Olivia set her purse on the counter.

  Tag dropped the diaper bag to the floor.

  Flynn bucked and giggled.

  “Calm down, little man. Let me talk to Mommy and then we’ll play.”

  Olivia swallowed the knot in her throat. Why was Tag acting like this? The way he used to. Didn’t he realize he was only hurting her more? Worse yet, didn’t he care? “I—I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t pretend everything’s great between us when nothing could be further from the—”

  Tag silenced her with a kiss. Not just any kiss, but an epic one that turned her knees to jelly and her soul to mush. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”

  “Just like that?” She wanted to believe him, but couldn’t.

  “I’ve been a fool. But I put all of Maria’s pictures away and now I’m ready to try committing to you.” He kissed her again, but she pushed him away.

  “Are you even listening to yourself? You can’t flick your feelings on and off like a switch.”

  Conking the heel of his free hand against his forehead, he said, “Why did I even bother? I should’ve known if I opened myself up to you, you’d shoot me down.”

  “I’d shoot you down? Do you even remember me proclaiming my love for you, and you pretty much telling me to get lost?”

  “I never said that,” Tag protested. “You’re mixing my words. You’re not even being logical.”

  On that note she would agree. But the time for logic was long gone. Being around this infuriating man made her crazed. One side of her was so busy thinking about how strong and handsome he looked in his suit, carrying Flynn, that her rational side could barely reach through with its message for her to run.

  “Liv, please, honey.” Stepping closer, he extended his hand to touch her, but she flinched away. “Think this through. The whole time we were together, I’ve been the holdout to us being happy. Why would I now show up to beg you for a second chance if I weren’t sincere?”

  Having no answer, only crippling pain and confusion coursing through her, she said, “I appreciate the fact that you believe you’re ready to try being with me. But I don’t want a man to try. I want someone who loves me wholly and completely or I don’t want anyone at all.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You should’ve heard her,” Tag said that night to his big brother, Liam. They sat at a corner table at Hulihan’s, their favorite bar. “The woman was one hundred percent certifiable.”

  “Give her time,” Liam said, using the bottom of his Killian’s Red to nudge their shared plate of hot wings closer to Tag. “Eat and drink. If it’s meant to be, it’ll sort itself out.”

  Tag shook his head. “I agreed to pick up the tab, and that’s the best advice you can give me?”

  “Beer’s cheap,” he said, finishing off his fourth bottle. “Now, if you want to spring for Midleton, you’d be amazed at the knowledge I’d impart.”

  Sighing, Tag said, “Remind me next time I’m in crisis mode to call Fiona.”

  “What’s she going to tell you? Camp outside your lady’s front door, apologizing and singing ballads? Pfft.” He signaled to the waitress to bring another bottle. “Ask me, Olivia needs to knock off this whiny crap and take it like a man.”

  Oh, boy, here it comes. One could always tell Liam had had a bit too much to drink when he started in with his take-it-like-a-man speeches.

  “Point of fact,” Tag said, “Liv’s a woman. A seriously hot woman.”

  “In that case, all you have to do is apologize and camp on her doorstep. Maybe sing something. Works every time.”

  Tag rolled his eyes.

  THE NEXT NIGHT Tag followed his gut instinct and invited Fiona out for dinner at her favorite seafood place. While Fiona called it a night with one piña colada, the woman could eat twice her weight in crab legs. “When you have time for a break,” Tag said, “I’d love to talk with you about Liv.”

  “Sure,” she said, wincing while bearing down on her cracking pliers. “Just let me g
et this claw open, and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Jeez, my life’s in shambles here—can you throw me a bone?”

  After dredging her prized chunk of meat in drawn butter, then popping it into her mouth, closing her eyes and groaning with pleasure, she said, “I’ve actually been giving this a lot of thought. What you need to do is something outrageous. Something so big and exciting that she won’t be able to stop herself from falling into your arms.”

  “You’re not about to suggest I camp on her doorstep and sing, are you?”

  She blanched. “That’s a horrible idea. Is that what Liam told you to do?”

  “Possibly.” Tag had to laugh to himself over his big brother’s advice getting shot down by the master. He should’ve just come to Fiona first. Out of the whole lot of O’Malley kids, she’d always been the one with the longest, happiest relationships. “So anyway, what’s this megaplan of yours and how long’s it going to take?”

  “Patience, pumpkin. This will require finesse.”

  “Don’t you have any plans that get straight to the point? Like shaking sense into her.”

  Pausing midbite, she said, “Shaking would not be advised.”

  “I THINK SHE’S BEING unreasonable,” Steph said, sitting on the edge of Olivia’s backyard pool. “Tag came to her, apologized, claimed to have put away all of his wife’s things…what more does she want?”

  Gabby pitched a tortilla chip at her. “What she wants is the prince charging up on his white stallion.”

  “That whole prince thing is highly overrated.”

  “Ladies,” Olivia interrupted, “would you mind letting me handle my own problems?”

  “We’d be happy to,” Steph said, “but you’re not handling anything. You’re hiding. I know I say this all the time, but if I had a second chance with Michael, I’d give anything for just one more day. I get where Tag was coming from on having a tough time separating himself from his memories of his wife. But he did, Olivia. For you. If you ask me, the ball’s now in your court, and if you’re even half as smart as I believe you to be, then you need to let us take care of Flynn while you go get your man.”

  Gabby clapped. “Hear, hear. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “You both need to mind your own business. Obviously Tag and I were never meant to be.”

  “Why?” Steph asked. “Because at this point, the only thing I see standing between you two being together is your fear.”

  “Fear that I remember all too well from Phil,” Olivia argued. “I know we hadn’t met back then, but trust me, I was a mess. I can’t—won’t—go through that again if Tag should one day decide he’s tired of me.”

  “Would you listen to yourself,” Steph said, kicking her feet in the glistening water. “You’re planning your divorce before you’re even married.”

  “Tag didn’t propose. All he said was that he was willing to try working things out between us.”

  “But that’s not good enough for you?” Steph asked. “Flip it around. What if you were the one trying to let go of your past, but having a hard time. What if you were honestly trying, only Tag flat-out rejected you?”

  “He did.”

  “Oops.” Steph at least had the good grace to look guilty for having rubbed Olivia’s nose in the embarrassment of Tag’s rejection. “Okay, well, let’s just go with Plan B.”

  “Which is?”

  Steph looked to Gabby. “We’re not sure. But as soon as we dream it up, you’ll be first to know.”

  “IT’S ABOUT TIME you got back in the office.” Despite Tag’s best efforts to avoid Alice, she dogged him all the way to his desk chair. “You’d better see this,” she said. “I think it’s important.”

  Without even looking at it, Tag took the envelope and set it atop the pile he planned to spend the day trying to tackle.

  “Boss, you really should take a look. It’s from the Georgette County Court.”

  Rubbing his closed eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Tag exhaled sharply. What now? He really couldn’t take much more fun.

  “Want me to open it for you?”

  “Sure.” The letter was probably just a formalized statement concerning Flynn’s custody.

  “Oh, my.” Hand to her chest, Alice said, “This can’t be good.”

  “What?” he asked, wishing she’d leave him in peace to get on with his day.

  “From the sound of this, Ms. Marshall is seeking full custody of your son. You’re due in court on Friday.”

  Barking at Alice to leave the letter and get his lawyer on the phone, Tag felt his head begin to throb. Hadn’t Liv already put him through enough? Why would she do something so deliberately hurtful as to try barring him from his son?

  “WHY IS HE DOING THIS, Dane? He knows Flynn means the world to me.” In Dane’s chambers, Olivia dropped onto one of the two burgundy leather guest chairs in front of his imposing desk.

  “Relax,” Dane said, punching in a number on his desk phone. “Judge Marsbury’s a fair man. I can’t imagine him doing anything rash or…” He waved to her when whoever was on the other end picked up.

  A brief exchange provided nothing more than Dane discovering that the judge was out of town. “Really?” Dane asked. “You don’t even show him as having his court in session on Friday?” More chitchat, and then “Well, thank you for checking for me…No, that won’t be necessary…Yes, you, too.” He hung up. “Strange. Let me see your letter again.”

  While he looked over her document, she said, “I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I knew Tag better than this.”

  “I’ve gotta say…” Dane scratched his head. “Putting the court-docket-scheduling dilemma aside, this second custody case is unorthodox, but not unheard-of. There is a segment of the population who use children as weapons. Maybe Tag’s one of them?”

  “No. I refuse to believe that of him. I’ll bet his family put him up to it.”

  Clearing his throat, Dane said, “I hate to state the obvious, but did you ever think of calling him? Asking him point-blank why he’s taking this route?”

  “I suppose I could call, but that would mean actually speaking to him, which is totally out of the question.”

  WITH TAG’S ATTORNEY out of town and none of his firm’s partners even taking his calls, Tag showed up solo at the Georgette County Courthouse Friday morning. None of this made sense. He’d tried calling Liv a million times, but she never answered. He took her lack of communication as an admission of guilt. She knew what she was doing was wrong, and she didn’t care.

  Well, if that was the way she wanted to play it, bring it on. He’d never backed down from a fight and wasn’t about to start now.

  The courthouse lobby was quiet. The only person present other than him was a janitor pushing a rolling trash bin down the hall.

  Tag checked his watch—8:55.

  The hearing was supposed to start at nine. Where the hell was everyone?

  Behind him, the courthouse door swished open. Liv, dressed to kill in a black power suit and matching heels—also on her own—entered the building.

  Not bothering to hide his hostility, he asked, “Where’s your lawyer?”

  “Family emergency.” Taking off her black sunglasses, she asked, “Yours?”

  “Couldn’t make it on such short notice. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Setting her briefcase and purse on the center of three pewlike benches, she stuck her index finger in his face. “Don’t you dare talk to me about not giving you a courtesy call when we wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you suing for full custody.”

  “That’s B.S.,” he said, so angry he felt on the verge of losing control. The woman made him crazy. “You’re the one demanding full custody. It says so right here.” From his suit’s chest pocket he took the letter that had summoned him to appear.

  As Liv scanned it, her expression transformed from enraged to confused to…laughter? “It appears we’ve been played. Check out my official notice.”
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  They were identical, with the exception of their different addresses and the party suing.

  “Surprise!” From out of the courtroom where they’d first battled erupted balloons and throbbing, awful disco music and just about everyone he’d ever known on the planet. His parents, brothers, Alice, Liv’s aunt and uncle…Hell, even Tabitha the punk sitter they had yet to use.

  Groaning, Tag spied his sister. “You did this, didn’t you?”

  “With help.” All smiles, she pulled in her accomplices. “Tag, meet Stephanie and Gabby. Olivia, I presume you’ve already met my cohostesses?”

  “The more I think about it, the less funny this is, guys.” Waving her letter, Olivia looked to Gabby. “And I’m pretty sure Dane would eat you alive if he knew you’d not only snatched official courthouse stationery, but forged a judge’s name.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Gabby said. “If you weren’t so caught up in how miserable you are, you’d have noticed that the letterhead might be similar to the county’s, but it’s nowhere close to exact.”

  “You covered all the bases, didn’t you?” Tag said. “Once in all of this scheming, did it ever occur to the three of you that Liv and I were genuinely hurting? This isn’t a game.”

  “It’s about time you figured that out,” Tag’s mother said. “I love you, son, but think of this as an intervention—for both you and Olivia. You two are headed down a dangerous and unnecessary path. Yes, those letters you received weren’t real, but they could be if you don’t admit you’re perfect for each other and get on with your lives. Look how much time you’ve already wasted. Do you really want this to go on anymore?”

  Tag looked at Liv. Lord, she was pretty. He’d forgotten how just waking up with her in his home had brightened his days. Holding out his hand, he asked, “Want to blow this joint and find somewhere private to talk?”

  Chapter Fifteen