He shook his head and gave a wry smile. “No…I don’t think I’d bring that up in court.”
They traversed the evening shadows to the rhythm of their labored breaths and the scritch-scritch-scritch of their tennis shoes on the pavement. Here and there the streetlamps started to come on.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Clay spoke again. “I may not buy into the still, small voice you talk about, Dee, but I do trust your instincts where kids are concerned. But…how can you advocate for Wade against the biological father? How would you support your argument?”
She tried to inhale and fought against a smothering weight in her chest. It was becoming a familiar sensation––one she felt every time she thought how it would make Wade feel if she were to make a recommendation for Darrin Parnell. Would he see it as a betrayal? How could he possibly feel otherwise? Now Clay had added this new burden to her worries. Could there actually be legal repercussions if her friendship with Wade were to become more? She was anxious to look up the statute Clay had referred to.
It terrified her to think her growing feelings for Wade were no longer a secret, private thing she held in her heart. She couldn’t afford to appear prejudiced in any way now. But neither could she bear to think of making a recommendation that would take those children away from Wade. She stopped and bent over, hands on her knees, trying desperately to catch her breath.
“Hey, are you okay?” Clay stopped and took a similar stance, leaning in to study her face. “Let’s sit down and rest for a minute.”
He plopped onto a patch of thick grass at the curb. She eased down beside him, still breathing hard.
“Clay, if the judge gives those kids to their father, Wade will be lucky if he ever sees them again. Darrin Parnell and his fiancée live and work in Minneapolis. There’s no way they are going to bring those kids back here to see Wade. And that’s assuming the judge even grants him visitation rights.” Hot tears welled in her eyes. She swiped them away with the back of her hand. “Sometimes I hate this business.”
Clay stared straight ahead into the darkness. “I know. I know,” he whispered.
Dee was touched by the genuine compassion in his voice. More than once, she’d comforted him when he was lamenting a child’s situation. He really did understand how she was feeling. She shouldn’t have been so harsh with him this afternoon. In some ways it was a relief to have things out in the open with Clay and with Betty. Except now she knew they’d both be watching her. Well, maybe that was a good thing, too. Though it sure wouldn’t make it easy to face Clay after her next visit with Wade and the kids. The thought brought a wry chuckle.
Clay looked at her askance. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to keep from glowing on Tuesday mornings.”
He didn’t return her laughter.
She huffed out a short sigh. “I didn’t go looking for this, Clay. And it feels silly even to say that because this isn’t…anything…”
“But you admit the attraction is there?”
“I already told you it was. I’m not sure a person really has any control over something like that. But just because a person feels an attraction for someone, they don’t have to act on it.”
“I agree.” Clay bobbed his chin.
His voice carried a whiff of triumph that irritated Dee no end.
“But I’d take it one step further,” Clay said. “I’d say if a person were wise, she would remove herself from a situation that had potential for temptation.”
She conceded his point with an exaggerated sigh. “Well, if it’s any comfort to you, this won’t even be an issue in two weeks. I…I’m going to tough it out until then.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Wade, you can’t tell me that––” She let out a little gasp. Heat rushed to her face in waves. Had she just called Clay by Wade’s name?
He unfolded himself from the curb. “I rest my case,” he said, his voice void of emotion. He turned and started walking in the direction they’d come from.
“Clay, wait…” She jumped up off the curb and jogged to catch up with him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Clay. Maybe I am proving your point. I’ll…have to think about it. Maybe you’re right.”
“No…” He bent his head and slowed his pace. “I’m not being fair. You do what you have to do, Dee. I trust you. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Thank you, Clay. I appreciate that. And thanks for listening.”
After a long minute, he turned to her. The streetlight cast his face in shadow, but there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes. “Sure,” he said. “What are friends for?”
Frank Locke’s voice held more optimism than Wade had heard in weeks. “This could be very important, extremely helpful…” Locke said, looking up from the insurance documents State Farm had given Wade. He put the papers in a neat stack, rested his elbows on the desk, and steepled his fingers. “What this will say to a judge is that the children’s mother, in effect, chose you as the executor of her estate. And by natural progression, it makes you her unspoken choice of guardian to her children.”
“So you think we might have a chance?”
A brief grimace contorted Locke’s face. “I’m hoping that, at least, we might be able to work out joint custody.”
In spite of the fact he’d begun to fear he would not get the kids, Wade reeled at Locke’s words. Joint custody seemed like an impossibility, dragging the kids back and forth between here and Minneapolis. He’d probably get them during the summers, his busiest time at work. And what kind of life would that be for Beau and Lacey and Dani––taking them away from their new friends to put them in daycare? He wasn’t sure he could do that to them. But could he trust that Darrin Parnell had reformed his ways? That the kids would be safe with him? Though Locke saw the fiancée as a strike against Wade getting custody, at least she would provide a safety net for the kids. And yes, a feminine influence in their lives.
The temptation to give up, to concede to Parnell raised its ugly head again. Then he thought of Dee’s plea that he fight for the kids.
He pushed the thoughts from his mind, trying to focus on the reason he’d come to Locke’s office.
“If we can get joint custody,” Locke was saying, “it might untie some funds from Starr’s policy at the nursing home for you to help with the kids’ expenses.”
“I don’t care about the money,” he said.
Locke gave him a stern look. “Well, if you get the kids, you should care about it. You’re taking on a huge financial responsibility.”
“What would be the best way to handle this State Farm money?” he asked, dodging the attorney’s lecture.
“Definitely use it to pay your attorney first,” Locke said, laughing.
Wade didn’t quite see the humor. He owed Locke & Locke a sizable chunk of change, and he doubted he had much choice other than to use the proceeds from Starr’s insurance to pay the bill. “Of course, I will do that,” he said, unsmiling. “But I want to put as much as possible into a trust for the kids. Something Darrin Parnell can’t get his hands on if he does get the kids.”
“Of course,” Locke said, sobering. “I can help you set up a trust fund.”
For the next twenty minutes, Locke walked him through the likely scenario for the next hearing. He coached Wade how to answer questions Parnell’s attorney or the other parties might raise, and he prepared him for each possibility.
Locke’s words made things all too real. A month from now Wade’s fate would be decided. Either he would have his kids safely home and this would all be a distant nightmare.
Or he would have lost them forever.
Chapter 37
Wade felt like the defendant in a murder trial as he sat behind the table at Frank Locke’s left. Tugging on his too-tight tie, he tried not to look at Darrin Parnell––or at Dee Thackery––as the judge introduced the parties present in the courtroom.
Dee sat
in the gallery to his right. Even though she was two rows behind him, he couldn’t seem to keep her out of his peripheral vision. Nor could he help noticing how pretty she looked in a peach-colored pantsuit, with her hair caught up in a silver clasp. He dared to imagine what it might be like to celebrate with her when––if––he won his kids back. He knew it was unlikely the judge would actually announce his decision today, but this deposition hearing was an important one––probably the one that would ultimately decide the fate of Starr’s children.
Wade turned and searched the gallery directly behind him, hoping to see Sophie, but not surprised that she wasn’t there.
Judge Richard Paxton was imposing in his long black robe, even if the small county courthouse didn’t boast a bailiff––or even the bang of a gavel––to announce him.
The judge finished his acknowledgments and looked briefly over the docket. “This hearing is for the purpose of deciding custody in the matter of minor children Beau Parnell, Lacey Parnell, and Danica Parnell. Mr. Baze, would you please speak to the recommendations of Social and Rehabilitation Services and St. Joseph’s Foster Care agency?”
Wade’s palms grew damp and his heart galloped. So much hung on the words this man would speak.
Marcus Baze, the young county attorney, pushed back his chair and rose. He didn’t look like he could be a day over twenty-five, but he spoke with authority when he presented a brief overview of the case, reminding the judge how visitations were being handled. “Your Honor,” Baze said, his tone turning almost apologetic, “at this time, the agencies don’t feel comfortable making a recommendation for or against either Mr. Parnell or Mr. Sullivan. This decision has been a dilemma for SRS and the foster care agency.”
What did that mean? Wade looked to Frank Locke, but the attorney’s expression was unreadable.
Baze paused and bent to shuffle some papers on the table in front of him before continuing. “Numerous observations of each man’s interactions with the children have been made during supervised visitations, and it is the opinion of the case managers that both men seem equally able to fulfill the parental role for these children. Any preference we might cite for Darrin Parnell would be in the interest of family preservation, based, of course, on the fact that he is the children’s biological father. An additional consideration would be the fact that his fiancée, Carma Weist, has developed a close relationship with the children and is a positive female role model in their lives.”
Wade’s shoulders sagged, and a tight knot formed in his chest. In spite of Marcus Baze’s claim of indecision, it sure felt like the recommendation leaned in Parnell’s favor.
The county attorney picked up a legal pad and read from his notes. “A congruent preference for Wade Sullivan would rest on the fact that he has been a father figure to the children for the past three years. They have lived in his home, which contains tangible memories of their mother. Also, their mother’s sister, their only other living relative, resides here in Coyote, which would play into a preference for Mr. Sullivan having custody. The agencies feel recommendations for either party would essentially carry equal weight and, as such, have presented a dilemma. We look forward to hearing the decision of the court.”
The county attorney’s statement seemed awfully ambiguous. Frank Locke had explained that Baze represented SRS and St. Joseph’s, and that those agencies had compiled their recommendations. Wade wondered what Dee’s professional recommendation had said. Did she really think it didn’t matter who got the kids? But the question was barely formed in his mind when her words of a few weeks ago echoed through him. These kids need you, Wade. Fight for them.
As Marcus Baze took his seat, Judge Paxton called on Ruth Cadena, the attorney appointed as guardian ad litem to the children. She gave a statement reiterating much of what the county attorney had said. Wade had been impressed with the woman in previous meetings and hearings. She had a way of making the children––and everyone around them––feel at ease. He’d felt the kids were in good hands under her representation, but he was disappointed she didn’t speak more adamantly in his favor now.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Locke had warned him again and again that the goal of the social services agencies would be to preserve the family of origin, if at all possible.
Judge Paxton slipped on a pair of reading glasses and looked at the papers in front of him for a minute before recognizing Darrin Parnell’s attorney. “Mr. Hinson, the court will hear your statement.”
The attorney stood and stepped from behind the table. “Your Honor, Mr. Parnell has worked very hard over these last months to prove to this court that he is dedicated to regaining custody of his children. Not only has he sacrificed income, and time away from a lucrative and stable job, to travel here from Minneapolis each and every week for visitation with the children, but he has invested countless hours completing parenting classes and other training that will benefit him as a father to his children.”
Wade wanted to gag at the way Parnell’s attorney couched his client’s mandatory attendance at anger management classes. He waited for Frank Locke to point that out, but his lawyer remained silent while Jonathan Hinson continued.
“I’m happy to report that in the interim, Mr. Parnell has become engaged.” The attorney smiled and turned to where Carma Weist was seated in the gallery behind Parnell. “As noted in the acknowledgments, Ms. Weist is present in the courtroom today and has been attending Mr. Parnell’s visitations with the children for several weeks now. Ms. Weist has a degree in early childhood education, has managed a daycare center in Minneapolis for several years, and is looking forward to being a mother to these children.”
Hinson paused, walked back to his place, and checked his notes. “One of Mr. Parnell’s greatest concerns is that, with the death of their mother, these children have lost the influence of a woman in their lives. Carma Weist will provide––in fact, has already begun to provide that influence and is eager to continue doing so.”
From the corner of his vision, Wade could see Parnell’s fiancée bobbing her neatly coiffed head in agreement.
Hinson took a sip of water from the glass on his table, then continued. “It is a concern to Mr. Parnell that the children have been left with a single man who has no blood relationship to them whatsoever. Much of the children’s time while under his care has been spent in daycare facilities. And again, they have lacked, under his care, the influence of a mother figure in their lives. We strongly believe that, while Mr. Sullivan has made an effort to provide the children with food, clothing, and other material needs, Mr. Parnell is in a better position to provide these things, along with the loving devotion a birthfather naturally feels toward his flesh and blood. For all these reasons, we firmly believe it is in the best interests of Beau, Lacey, and Danica Parnell for full and permanent custody to be given to their biological father, Darrin Parnell.”
Parnell’s attorney sat down, and the judge recognized Frank Locke. Wade sent up a prayer that he would be given the right words to speak.
“Your Honor,” Locke began. “While I fully agree with the philosophy of family preservation and believe, whenever possible, children should remain with their family of origin, the overriding consideration in any custody case must always be what is in the best interest of the children. What is in the best interest of these three children––Beau and Lacey and Danica Parnell? Is it that they be separated from the only man they have ever really known as ‘Dad’? Wade Sullivan has been an integral part of these children’s lives for three years. Until recently the children have had no contact whatsoever with their birthfather. Lacey Parnell was a baby when she last saw Mr. Parnell, and until a few months ago, Danica Parnell had never laid eyes on her birthfather. Even Beau has very few, if any, memories of Mr. Parnell as his father, and sadly, what memories he does have are distressful ones.”
A hush fell over the room.
But Locke went on without explanation. “The children have never received one penny of child support f
rom their father. He has not been a part of their lives in over four years. In every sense of the word, Wade Sullivan has been the only father these children have ever known. And though their mother was not yet married to Mr. Sullivan at the time of her death, a wedding date had been set, and they were actively building a life together that included these children in the strongest way possible.”
Frank Locke’s words gathered steam, and for a minute, Wade almost forgot it was his own story being told with such passion.
Locke took a step toward the bench as he continued. “Together, Mr. Sullivan and Starr Parnell were refurbishing a house in the country––the house Mr. Sullivan freely offered as a home to these children after their mother’s death. Beau, Lacey, and Dani find great comfort in being in the house their mother was so excited about moving to––a home where each of them has a bedroom waiting––a room lovingly painted by their mother with artwork and calligraphy designed especially for them. In spite of the financial hardship and the time commitment, Mr. Sullivan lovingly took in these children and cared for them, providing for their every need. And again, this was at considerable financial sacrifice, since the insurance money from Mrs. Parnell’s employer has been held up pending the naming of a guardian. Those monies are still in limbo.
“However…” Locke drew out the word and took another step toward the bench. “It was recently discovered that Starr Parnell, the children’s mother, had purchased a life insurance policy in the amount of fifty thousand dollars, naming Wade Sullivan as primary beneficiary and naming her children as successor beneficiaries. Mr. Sullivan has selflessly placed the bulk of that benefit in a trust to be used for the children’s education.”
A soft buzz rippled through the courtroom as surprised glances were exchanged. Parnell and his attorney conferred in whispers.
But Frank Locke wasn’t finished. “In spite of his grief over his fiancée’s death, not only did Mr. Parnell provide for the children’s physical needs, but he went many steps further––seeing that they participated on sports teams, coaching them on the weekends, making sure they had time for outings with their school friends, taking them to church and Sunday School.”
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