by Sandy James
“We’re coming,” Scott replied, shocking me back to reality.
“Do I plead not guilty?” Eli asked.
The shake of Scott’s head made me frown. Of course my son would plead not guilty. He didn’t do anything wrong.
“You won’t plead here.” Scott shoved the papers back into his briefcase. “This is just a fact-finding hearing. Very informal. Just give the judge honest and short answers. And call him sir.”
When we walked into the courtroom, I found it next to impossible not to be intimidated. The judge had to be in his sixties. Gray hair. Bushy salt-and-pepper moustache. Bifocals. Just like my late grandfather. Or Wilford Brimley. It took me a few minutes to get over the creepy sensation of knowing the man sitting up on that dais. His flowing black robe made him Saint Peter while we were the lost souls begging to enter the Pearly Gates.
Damn, my overactive imagination could get the better of me sometimes.
Scott sat to Eli’s right at the defense table while I sat on a chair to Eli’s left. Every few minutes, I’d reach over to put a hand on Eli’s shoulder or give him a pat on the back. That judge was damn well going to know he had a mother behind him. So was Eli.
He was being charged with being a juvenile delinquent because he’d been in possession of marijuana and had assaulted a police officer. The judge talked mostly to the assistant district attorney, a guy who was about my age but with eyes as hard as granite. This man put people in jail, and from where I sat, he enjoyed doing so. He talked about Eli’s arrest and said that he’d attacked the police officer. It took all my self-control not to cry out that those two criminals had thrown him at the cop, that Eli didn’t have a mean bone in his body.
How could Scott sit there so calmly while this bozo painted my son out to be some violent punk? Shouldn’t he be objecting or something? That was what defense attorneys did on Law and Order. Unfortunately, that was the extent of my courtroom experience.
There wouldn’t be any way I could ever be an attorney. I wanted to pop to my feet and start arguing with the ADA every single time he tried to make a point about how awful Eli was. If Scott hated Eli throwing around the F-bomb, he’d be major honked off at me if I got time alone with that ADA. Ears would be burning.
By the time the judge turned his attention to Scott, I was afraid I was about to burst into flames. My whole body had flushed hot, and I squirmed around on the seat. When had they jacked up the heat?
“You okay, Mom?” Eli asked.
Evidently, I looked as crappy as I felt. “Is it hot in here?” I tugged at the collar of my sweater.
He shrugged. “Um…not really. Is this some woman thing?”
I rolled my eyes and wondered why men thought the only thing that ever bothered women was fluctuating hormones.
“Your honor.” Scott stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
Shit. Was he wearing Armani? I’d only just noticed. And it fit him so well, I glanced around to see if any other women in the courtroom were staring at him.
Then he began. “I’d like to ask that the court consider some information it might not have received that could help with the decision whether to release this boy to his mother’s custody.”
“Ah, his mother,” the judge said, his haughty tone making my heart race. He shuffled some of the papers in front of him. “Seems Mr. Robertson is a very lucky young man. He has two mothers.”
Scott threw the judge a smile, clearly unaffected by the man’s condescending comment. “Yes, your honor. Eli is very lucky. There are two women who love him enough to claim that title.” His arm swept out to where I sat, making me straighten my spine to try to look good in my stupid outfit. “This is Madalyn Sawyer. She’s Eli’s birth mother. He’s currently a visitor in her home.”
“And how long has she been an influence on Eli’s life? I don’t see any other arrests on his record.”
“To protect his family’s privacy, Ms. Sawyer only became acquainted with her son a short time ago.”
The judge arched a bushy eyebrow. “How long is a short time?”
“Around a week.” Scott’s reply even sounded terrible to me.
Look at that! The kid’s with his birth mom a week and he’s doing drugs and attacking cops.
A few scribbled words that surely condemned me were added to the paper. “And where’s his adoptive mother?”
“Mrs. Robertson was unable to make the trip from Indiana on such short notice because she’s a new employee whose employer refuses to grant her time away without risk to her employment.”
The judge frowned, and my heart clenched. “I see. She had to decide between work and home. Perhaps if Mr. Robertson would have been a little wiser in his actions, he wouldn’t be putting his poor mother through that kind of agonizing choice.”
Scott’s smug smile gave me confidence, forcing my own lips to bow into a grin. “I will argue, your honor, that Eli’s actions last evening were very responsible and that he was a victim, not a perpetrator.”
God, the judge looked like Grandpa whenever he got good and pissed, and that sure as hell wasn’t a good sign. My face fell to a frown.
This whole proceeding was making me bi-polar.
The judge tapped his pencil against the wooden surface of his bench. “He’s accused of attacking a police officer, Mr. Brady.”
“Yes, your honor. But I believe Eli was shoved into that officer by two people trying to escape the drug sweep.”
“Explain.”
Sounding like the master of storytellers, Scott weaved a picture of Eli being the innocent abroad—a wide-eyed Hoosier dazzled by the lights of the Big Apple. He glossed over Eli’s past association with dumbasses Deuce and Watt, blaming it on his grief over his father’s death, before he explained what had happened last night. According to Scott, my blameless and naïve son was doing nothing more than searching for a meal when he was accosted by two drug-dealing thugs. “And I submit, your honor, that these boys then took advantage of the unfortunate situation by jamming drugs into Eli’s pocket and shoving him into that officer. After escaping, they knew Eli’s mother would come to his aid, so they used that opportunity to rob and vandalize her home.”
The judge’s frown could have caused a sunburn for anyone in that courtroom. “Rob? Explain.”
While Scott gave the judge an accounting of what we’d stumbled across in my condo last night, I watched Eli. His eyes went wide as he whirled to gape at me when he heard what those idiots had destroyed. “Your computer too?” he whispered.
I nodded but tried to soften my gaze so he’d know I didn’t hold him responsible. The poor kid had been through enough. New York City surely hadn’t been what Eli expected.
“Oh, Maddie…”
“It’s okay.”
The judge read over some papers Scott had handed the bailiff, who’d immediately put them on the judge’s bench. Couldn’t the old man make any expression except a scowl?
“In light of these arrest reports and the confessions those young men made last night, I’m inclined to not only allow Mr. Robertson to be released to his birth mother’s custody, but to also dismiss the charges against him.”
The ADA jumped out of his chair. “But, your honor! He assaulted an officer.”
With a shake of his head, the judge replied, “The two boys who were arrested for robbing Ms. Sawyer’s home admitted to shoving Mr. Robertson into the officer.”
“But—” It was wicked of me, but I was enjoying watching the guy get flustered. “He knew them. They were friends. Even his lawyer admits—”
“Mr. Brady’s honesty about Eli’s past association with those two boys only lends credibility to his case.” The judge picked up the gavel, pounded it on the wood and announced, “Case dismissed.”
About to hop up and grab Eli to hug him, I froze when the judge continued. “Mr. Robertson?”
Eli stood up and stared at the judge. I wondered if anyone else but me would notice how much my son trembled.
“You’ve been
given a big break here, young man. You got lucky, and you have an excellent defense attorney. I don’t expect you to waste this opportunity, and I don’t ever want to see you in my courtroom again. Understood?” His booming voice told my son he damn well better agree.
“Yes, sir!” Eli nodded like a bumped bobble-head. “You won’t see me here again. I swear.”
“Good.” And with that, the judge shoved the file of Eli’s papers aside, grabbed another thick manila folder and moved on to the next case.
Scott shoved his papers in his briefcase, grabbed me by the elbow and hurried us out of the courtroom.
* * *
Judging from the way Eli wolfed down his hamburger, they hadn’t fed him much in jail. I, on the other hand, picked at my food until I finally gave up and shoved the plate at my son. He finished everything I hadn’t eaten.
I figured I should say something because the stilted silence ate at all of us. I simply didn’t know what to say. Wrapping my mind around Scott’s profession came hard. Yes, he’d helped get Eli’s charges dismissed. Yes, he was good and wonderful. Yes, he was everything I’d ever wanted. Yes, I loved him with every ounce of my being. So what in the hell did it matter if he was a defense attorney?
But it did matter. Jack’s death mattered. Everyone else might have forgotten him, but I hadn’t. Sitting in that courtroom for Eli had brought back all the horrible memories of losing my brother.
When Jack died, I’d been so hurt and so lost, I sat down to write as an outlet for the emotions roiling through me. Not a day went by I didn’t think about him, what might have been had he lived. Would he have a wife? Children? In my adoring eyes, he could have cured cancer.
Instead, Jack’s life had been cut tragically short. He rested in a cold, dark grave while his killer got nothing but a slap on the wrist, probably nothing more than the humiliation of picking up trash along the highway.
Every time my mind turned to my brother, I wondered if I could have healed if justice had been better served so long ago. Instead, my grief turned to an acrimony that I directed not only at Jack’s killer but at the attorney who freed him—the man I’d grown to think of as the killer’s partner in crime.
Between the horrifying memories of my brother and all the turmoil over the love I had for Scott, my heart ached so much, I feared simply touching it would make it shatter.
Scott’s hard eyes had my stomach churning into more nervous knots. My life had been thrown into a tornado, whirling and twirling me in the air, and my feet still hadn’t hit solid ground. There were so many things to decide, but I couldn’t seem to make up my mind about a single one.
What was I supposed to do about Eli? Keep him here longer or immediately ship him back to Stephanie? My heart wanted to hold tight, to get to know my son a little better. But I’d already failed him miserably. I had no right to call myself his mother.
My condo was in such bad shape, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find FEMA erecting a shabby trailer outside the building so I had a place to live. I’d need new furniture, a new laptop, and putting the place back together would take forever.
Despite all of those problems, the toughest dilemma remained.
Scott Brady. What in the hell was I supposed to do about Scott?
I loved him. I loved him more than was wise. I loved him more than anything or anyone I’d ever known. But I felt betrayed by the way he’d misled me, how he’d concealed who he really was. Now I had to decide if I would or even could forgive him for that—for being one of the people I thought made our already crappy world just a little crappier every day.
Coulda-woulda-shoulda, Terri’s voice whispered in my ear. Think hard! You don’t want to regret this.
The last of Scott’s words to Eli caught my ear. “…and you can go swimming when we get back to my place.”
Eli’s eyes lit up the way they had when I’d bought him art supplies. “Really? You have a pool?”
I threw a wet blanket on his enthusiasm. I needed some space, some time before I said something stupid. I needed to find some patience. I needed to breathe. “We’re going back to my place tonight. We’re not staying with Scott.”
My cheeks flushed hot when Scott directed another angry glare at me. “Why the hell would you do that? Your place is a mess. The door wouldn’t even lock. It’s not safe.”
“The super texted me that the door’s fixed. New door, new doorframe and new locks. It’s safe there now. Besides, your place is messier than mine.”
He ignored my sarcasm. “You don’t even have furniture you can sit on. I figured we’d do some shopping this weekend.”
I gave him a shrug and sipped my iced tea.
Those blue eyes darkened to the color of the Indiana sky when a thunderstorm approached. “Maddie, you’re being ridiculous.”
Eli’s eyes kept shifting between us, reminding me a lot of when he’d watched us discussing payment for the reunion. Thank God he held his tongue. I didn’t need the two of them ganging up on me because I knew in my heart whose side Eli would take, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be mine. He probably thought his birth mother had morphed into some kind of psycho-hose-beast.
Scott clenched his jaw. “I know what you think, but I didn’t lie to you.”
I should have screamed at him. Maybe then we’d be able to get everything out in the open, hash it out and perhaps move on. Instead, I dug in my stubborn heels and shook my head.
“You wanted some fantasy—some blue-collar Romeo.”
I shook my head again.
“I was…afraid, Maddie. I mean, after you told me about your brother…I just couldn’t…”
I waited for him to finish the thought.
Instead, he sighed, a long, drawn-out event. “This doesn’t have to be a problem. I’m an attorney. Grow up. Who in the hell really cares anyway?”
That was it. I’d reached my fill. The world and all the fucking idiots in it had won. Everything I’d ever wanted had been set in front of me and then smashed to bits while I watched. Helpless. My hopes. My dreams. My life. I couldn’t keep Scott because he was a fantasy. I couldn’t keep Eli because I’d ruined his life. Twice. All I had left was my stubborn pride. That, I would cling to like a life preserver, even if I still drowned in the process. “I care.”
His chair shoved back hard enough I was amazed it didn’t topple over. “You’re telling me because I’m an attorney, you’re willing to throw away everything we have? You’re being ignorant.”
“Probably.” My sister Terri was right. She’d always preached I was my own worst enemy, that I always got in my own way. My stupid reply to Scott proved her point. In spades.
Had Scott been any other man, I had no doubt I would have been smacked. From the flare of his nostrils and the blotchy flush spreading up his neck and across his face, he looked so mad that he could have taken a swing. “After what I just did for Eli…for you…” His hands clenched into fists at his side.
Shit, I wasn’t sure what I thought right now. Too many conflicting emotions blazed through my mind for me to act remotely sane. I wanted to immediately run back to my home, slam the door, and cry in peace and quiet until I could regain some control. Then I could talk to Scott with some sanity. Then I could decide what to do about my future with Eli. Then I could stop fucking up my life.
Breathe, Maddie. Breathe.
But I couldn’t even get inside my sanctuary without talking to the building superintendent to get my new keys. And there was Eli, of course. For a brief moment, I considered begging Scott to take Eli home with him for a little while so I could be alone. How screwed up was that?
I knew where the idea came from—I’d already accepted Scott as a permanent part of my life. I’d assumed that needing some privacy meant I could rely on my boyfriend to watch after my son while I got what I needed. So why was I throwing away that kind of bond with both hands?
God help me, I just didn’t know. My mind waged a bitter war where there probably wouldn’t be any survivors.
> I was a kid again, and I kept seeing Jack in that coffin. Cold and dead, his face barely recognizable. The anger and hurt seemed every bit as fresh and raw as they’d been the day of the funeral. I kept seeing the smug smiles of the drunk driver and his attorney as they walked out of the courtroom, knowing someone I loved dearly had been murdered and no one had to pay the price. I kept hearing my mother crying and crying and crying…
Scott’s hand touched my shoulder. Funny, I’d been so lost in horrible memories, I hadn’t sensed him next to me. A first. “Tell me it doesn’t matter. Tell me, or I’m leaving.”
“C’mon, Mom.” Eli only called me that when he wanted something or was worried about me. “Let’s go to Scott’s place.”
Scott was breathing like a hard run horse. “I mean it, Maddie. Tell me it doesn’t matter, or I’m outta here. And I’m not coming back.”
I shook my head, sniffing back tears that refused to be denied. “I…I can’t.”
Scott’s strong hand fell away. “I won’t defend my choice of career to you.”
I couldn’t even look at him.
He grabbed his leather jacket from the back of my chair. I’d been wearing it just about everywhere, letting his scent and the warmth comfort me. His arms slipped inside the sleeves as he donned the jacket over his Armani suit. He looked absurd. An eternity passed as he dragged up the zipper. “You enjoy being up there on your damned high horse all by yourself.” He shook Eli’s hand. “Keep an eye on her.”
I kept my mouth shut, sealing the fact that I had officially become the world’s biggest moron.
Scott turned to me one last time. His eyes searched mine. It took all my obstinate arrogance not to rush into his arms, tell him I was too stupid to survive on my own and beg his forgiveness. An image of my dead brother’s mangled face kept me rooted to the spot.
My teeth bit down so hard on my tongue, I tasted salty blood.
Then Scott Brady walked out of my life.
Chapter Nineteen
