by Josie Brown
Lorna followed Mallory’s gaze to the last row of chairs, where Caleb and Christian sat, juggling coffee cups, cupcakes, and two hungry toddlers apiece.
Recognizing them, Lorna waved half-heartedly. “Gentlemen…nice to see you.”
Mallory sat close enough to pluck a cupcake from Christian’s hand. “Beat it. This is a closed meeting.”
He grabbed it back from her. Pointing to Zoe, he added, “I know, doll— The Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club. Zoe Thornton and Oliver Pierce are members.” He batted his lashes, as if to say, touché.
Mallory yanked the cupcake back from him. This time, she crumbled it in her fist. “But you’re not. You don’t have the right equipment.”
“Mallory—please!” Lorna begged. “He’s here with a child who is a member!”
“But it’s against the rules,” Kimberley pointed out indignantly.
“Maybe it’s time to change the rule,” Caleb countered. “Dads are people too, you know.”
“If we allow fathers to participate, it won’t be the same club anymore!” Sally stammered. “They’ll…know what we say about them.”
“So, we’ll have to learn to watch our p’s and q’s—just like our children.” Kelly smiled wickedly. “Maybe Lorna has a point. Allowing fathers to participate—to bond with their children and their children’s friends on the playground or in their classes—is only natural.” Slyly, she winked at Caleb. Turning back to Lorna, she asked innocently, “Why don’t we vote on it?”
“Bite your tongue,” Mallory growled. “Bettina would hit the roof if she heard such blasphemy!”
“But Bettina isn’t here—too common an occurrence lately,” Kelly countered. “And the rest of us are—oh, except for a few of the Top Moms. Obviously, Ally Thornton and Jade Pierce are AWOL”—she pointed at Zoe and Oliver—“as is Jillian Frederick.” Her hand swept in the direction of Caleb, Addison, and Amelia.
Hesitantly, Shoshanna, one of the Onesie Top Moms, raised her hand. “Lorna, frankly, I don’t see how it would hurt if some of the fathers were allowed to pinch-hit every now and then.”
“See?” Kelly smiled grandly. “Maybe there’s some merit in letting our men attend after all—at least enough to put it to a vote.”
Lorna winced. This wasn’t at all how she envisioned the meeting would go today. For once, Mallory was right. Bettina would be livid. Still, it was Bettina’s decision to stay away today. And Lorna’s primary objective was to allow the other moms more say-so in how the club was to be run. This was certainly a perfect example.
She sighed. “Agreed. Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of allowing fathers to substitute for mothers during meet-ups, raise your hands.”
At first, the hands went up tentatively. Still, only three hands stayed down: Mallory’s, Sally’s, and Kimberley’s.
And then Kimberley’s arm went up as well.
“The motion has passed,” Lorna declared. “Gentleman, welcome!”
Caleb high-fived Christian.
It must have smarted because Christian yelped.
“Ladies—and gentlemen, we have a few other items on the agenda before we break into playgroups.” Lorna pointed to the topics she’d already written on the board: the nine major holiday functions, including the pumpkin patch, the after-Thanksgiving potluck, Santa’s workshop at the Fairmont, the children’s Valentine Party, the parents’ Valentine Party, the Easter Egg Hunt, Mother’s Day luncheon, Father’s Day cookout, and the Fourth of July picnic. To that, she added the club’s fundraiser: a cookbook sell-a-thon.
Under all of this, she wrote ADVANCED PLACEMENT CLASSES in big letters.
“I’d like the twenty Top Moms—four for each of the five age groups—to draw for a division of the following duties. You’ll choose two events, and you’ll also coordinate the advanced placement classes for your age group.”
“But…isn’t that something Bettina likes to do? You know, assign tasks, and decide the classes for everyone?” Sally asked.
“We’ve expanded the Top Moms committee for just this reason: so that each group can have more say-so as to their children’s activities, and contribute to the club as a whole,” Lorna explained. “It’s why we’re all here: to enjoy each other’s company and to contribute.” She held up a bowl that held tiny slips of paper. “A Top Mom from each group should step forward and draw two slips, which will name their event assignments. As for the classes, feel free to discuss possible choices within your group. Of course, depending on what you decide, you’ll get an appropriate share of the budget raised from the last fundraiser.” She glanced at Shoshanna. “Why don’t you draw first for the Onesies?”
Eagerly, Shoshanna stepped forward and slipped a hand into the bowl. “Oh! We’ve got the Easter Egg hunt!” The mothers in her group murmured appreciatively. “And our second event is the pumpkin patch.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Mallory muttered.
Lorna sighed. “Mallory, why don’t you draw for the Foursies.”
Mallory shrugged before stepping forward and sticking her hand in the bowl. She frowned at her first draw. “Santa’s visit.”
“YES!” Angus shouted through a mouthful of cupcake.
Ha! Good, thought Lorna. Now, she’ll have to corral him herself.
Mallory’s second pick was the cookbook fundraiser. She snapped her fingers at the other three Top Moms. “Group effort,” she warned them.
They rolled their eyes.
“Kelly, why don’t you choose for the Twosies?” Lorna asked.
Kelly sauntered toward the bowl and reached in. She smirked. “Well, well, we’ve got the Adult Valentine’s Party!” She took another slip. “And the Father’s Day cook-out.”
“Since that’s our group, I’ll wrangle some of the Twosies dads to help out,” Caleb assured her.
That drew an appreciative murmur from the moms.
Kimberley drew the Mother’s Day luncheon and the After-Thanksgiving potluck.
That left Sally’s group–the Fivesies—with the Fourth of July picnic, and the children’s Valentine’s party.
“I’m sure each of you will wow us with your creativity for these events,” Lorna announced.
Kelly’s claps started an avalanche of applause.
As the group dispersed to their playground perches, Kelly walked over to Lorna.
Kelly started by Patting Lorna on the back. “Well done, fearless leader! You’re certainly more open-minded than Bettina. Truly refreshing.”
“Thank you, Kelly.” Lorna blushed, but she didn’t smile.
She still holds the kiss I gave Matthew against me. Makes sense. Now, let me see if I can make it work for me.
Kelly took a step back. Making her voice tremble, she added, “You know, Lorna, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
Lorna nodded, but said nothing.
“I owe you an apology,” Kelly continued.
Lorna raised a brow. “You mean, for flirting with my husband at Bettina’s New Year’s Eve party last year—and then kissing him?”
“Yes, certainly for that.” Kelly clawed her fist. It had the desired effect: it brought tears to her eyes.
“You can’t really blame me, can you? Besides the fact that Matthew was my childhood crush, he turned out to be the most loving husband imaginable—someone those of us in less-than-happy marriages can’t help but envy.” She dabbed away a tear.
Lorna gently touched her shoulder. “I hadn’t realized you and Peter were having trouble.”
“Were?” Kelly sniffed. “Nothing has changed in the past year, believe me. You don’t know how lonely you can be until you marry a workaholic.” Kelly hoped her lips quivered enough. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a husband who’d much rather spend every waking moment with you.”
“Yes, I guess we are lucky that we get to spend so much time together,” Lorna conceded. “He spends as much time with Dante as me, especially now that I’m co-Chief Executive Mom with Bettina.” Lorna rub
bed her belly. “I know he’ll be wonderful with the twins as well.”
Time to go in for the kill.
“I’m so glad you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” Kelly murmured. “You know, when Bettina and I were growing up, we used to be the best of friends. All the more reason I was shocked and hurt last year when she pitted us against each other in some twisted version of Onesies ‘Hunger Games.’ I just couldn’t understand why she felt threatened by you, the one person who could be a natural ally to her!” Kelly shrugged. “I thought that perhaps you’d done something to earn it. But from what I can see, you’re doing what you can to help her keep the club together, despite the turmoil Art—and for that matter, Bettina—has brought upon it.”
“I appreciate your kind words, Kelly.”
“It’s more than just lip service,” Kelly assured her fervently. “If there are other actions you feel are important for saving the club, please know that I have your back. And I’m great at twisting arms when need be.”
Lorna laughed uneasily. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but I appreciate the offer.”
As she turned to erase the whiteboard, Kimberley sidled over to Kelly and hissed, “Pssst! Just wondering, the invitations went out okay, right?”
Scowling, Kelly shoved her out of the room. “Why would you even ask? Don’t you trust me?”
Kimberley backed away. “Of course I do! It’s just that—well, you pretty much left me with nothing else to do for it. If there’s any way I can help—”
“You can help by keeping your big yap shut,” Kelly warned her. “Just show up at the Palace at exactly two twenty-five, so that you’re there to greet your guests.” She pinched Kimberley hard on her arm. “Get it?”
“Yes! I get it!” Kimberley gasped.
Kelly let go.
Kimberley didn’t dare look down at the bruise.
She wondered how she’d explain it to Jerry.
Chapter Six
11:06 a.m. that same day…
The judge was not a man.
However, Scotty was proving to be all boy. Every time he squirmed in Jillian’s arms, it was to place his mouth over one of her breasts. The plunging V-neck of her dress was too great a temptation for him.
Even Barry noticed enough to hiss, “Didn’t you bring a bottle for him?”
Jillian nodded slightly. Fumbling in Scotty’s baby bag, she pulled out one of the two bottles she’d brought with her. Quickly, she placed it in Scotty’s mouth.
As he sucked on it, she glanced at the plaintiff’s table to find her former mother-in-law, Rona Frederick, glaring at her. Angrily, Rona turned to her attorney: a woman around Jillian’s age. Both were wearing dress suits.
I should have never listened to Caleb, Jillian thought.
The bailiff’s terse demand, “All rise!” brought everyone to their feet. Jillian nearly jumped out of her skin. Little Scotty showed his concern by crying.
Rona rolled her eyes.
Jillian was able to quiet the baby just as Judge Julia Marsh, a woman in her mid-fifties, took her seat. Lowering her eyeglasses, the judge looked curiously at Jillian. She then turned to stare at Rona, who seemed oblivious to the judge’s terse gaze.
Finally, the judge took a few minutes to peruse the petition filed by Rona to overturn Jillian’s right to serve as ward and trustee to Scotty. In the meantime, the door in the back of the courtroom creaked open. Jillian turned to see Catherine Dunne—Victoria’s mother—enter and take a seat in the back.
“Mrs. Frederick,” the judge started, “you claim that your deceased son’s wife has no right to raise little Scotty—”
“Ex-wife,” Rona corrected her.
Judge Marsh’s pause was accompanied with a frown. “From what I read here, the divorce was not final at the time of his death,” she countered.
“A mere technicality,” Rona insisted, despite her lawyer’s attempt to shush her by laying a hand on her arm. “Unlike me, she is not a blood relative to the poor infant.”
“Your Honor, Mr. Frederick’s will also designates Jillian Frederick as the guardian of his children,” Barry pointed out.
“It also calls me out as the alternate trustee,” Rona declared. “One would think that his wishes would have been that his child be raised by blood relatives!”
Jillian leaned into Barry and hissed, “She was only named that because neither Scott nor I could bear the thought of the girls being raised by my mother.”
“Let’s just keep that little tidbit to ourselves,” Barry muttered. His eyes didn’t waver off Judge Marsh.
“Are there any other blood relatives?” Judge Marsh asked.
Catherine Dunne raised her hand and warily stood up. “My name is Catherine Dunne. I’m the child’s grandmother on his mother Victoria’s side.”
The judge shrugged. “I take it that you have no intention of making a claim for custody of the child as well?”
Catherine pursed her lips. Tearfully, she nodded. “That is correct. Like me, my husband is in his seventies. And, unfortunately, he is ill. Parkinson’s. We have a long haul ahead of us.”
The judge nodded sympathetically. “Anyone else?”
Rona stood up. “I’ll be assisted by my son, Jeffrey!”
All eyes went to her. “He is out of the country now, but he is a fine, upstanding boy.”
Judge Marsh frowned skeptically. “Don’t you mean ‘man’?”
“Hardly,” Jillian muttered.
Barry nudged her into silence before standing. “Jeff is a single male who travels frequently, and has no means of income other than his family’s trusts.”
Rona leapt up out of her chair. “How dare you cast aspersions on my Jeffrey!”
“Whereas Ms. Frederick owns her Pacific Heights home. Additionally, little Scotty will have the advantage of living with a seasoned parent who is already raising the child’s biological twin sisters, who are only two years older—”
“Half sisters,” Rona countered loudly, “who already enjoy the largesse of their deceased father’s trust—which covers the note on that mansion she got in the divorce settlement. Jillian’s desire to hold onto his son, Scotty, is her way of getting an even bigger piece of my family’s trust—”
Judge Marsh slapped her gavel. “Mrs. Frederick Senior, I’ll ask you to let your attorney speak for you!”
Rona nodded contritely.
“As I was saying, Your Honor, not only has Ms. Frederick Junior”—Barry smothered his smirk—“already established a bond with the child, but, as she is the same age as his biological mother, it is a bond that will stay with him into adulthood.”
Judge Marsh lowered her cheaters in order to glare at Barry. “You’ve already tossed down the age card,” she warned him. “Hopefully, it’s not the only one you have to play.”
“Of course not, Your Honor,” Barry assured her. “Besides her desire to raise Scotty with his sisters, Jillian Frederick is financially successful in her own right. She is one of the founders of the Life of Pie Bakery.”
The judge nodded at this new information. “She sounds like a very busy woman.”
“Too busy,” Rona muttered.
This time, it was Rona’s attorney who hushed her by clenching her hand. “Judge Marsh, Jillian Frederick does, in fact, live an overwhelming life. Running a very successful pie shop—and taking it public with the goal of franchising it—is a full-time job in itself. I can only imagine the toll it’s taking on her very young daughters! Tossing Little Scotty into this mêlée wouldn’t be fair to him—not when he has a loving grandmother who is willing to make him her sole purpose in life.”
Judge Marsh scrutinized Rona. “How much interaction do you currently have with your two granddaughters?”
Rona’s face turned bright red. “I…see them periodically—when I’m allowed to.”
“Ms. Frederick Junior, have you ever denied Mrs. Frederick Senior the right to see her granddaughters?” the judge asked.
“No, Your Honor
. She has a standing invitation to see them whenever she wants.” Jillian hesitated, but then added, “In all honesty, even before Scott and I separated, she rarely visited us.”
“I wasn’t exactly enthralled with how Jillian was raising the girls,” Rona protested. “A new baby brings challenges. Twins are double the challenge. She didn’t believe in getting help—from anyone.” She glared pointedly at Jillian.
Defiantly, Jillian straightened her shoulders, but kept her voice steady. “If you remember, Rona, when Scott married me, you retaliated by cutting off his college funding. I worked full time as a waitress so that he could get his degree in business and his masters in finance. When he got his dream job, we had the twins. I know you always had a nanny for your boys, but when I chose to be a full-time mother, I didn’t feel the need to have an au pair raise my girls. I may not have lived up to your expectations, but I lived up to Scott’s and mine.”
“Obviously not, or we wouldn’t be sitting here today, arguing over who has the right to raise little Scotty,” Rona declared.
Judge Marsh slapped the gavel again. “Ladies, your input—and desires on Scotty’s behalf—are all duly noted. She sighed. “Jillian, I have to be honest with you. Despite Scott’s will calling you out as the guardian of his children, your separation from him at the time of his death, coupled with your lack of any blood relationship to little Scotty, give legitimacy to Rona’s claim of stewardship. And I understand her concerns regarding your current work and parenting duties.”
“Your Honor,” Barry interjected, “With all due respect, there are single working mothers all over the country—all over the world—who work similar or longer hours and have two, three or more children.”
“Having been raised by a single mother who held down two jobs, I feel for these women as well, believe me,” Judge Marsh assured him. “Their sacrifice is noble, but too often their goals to provide their children a better life are sometimes sidelined by variables outside of their control.” She frowned. “That’s not to say that households with two parents and the income to provide everything their children may ever need do a better job of raising their children. We all know, first hand, that money and privilege have never been a substitute for hands-on parenting. My court has seen its fair share of these adults—and their children.”
