by Lane Hart
“I didn’t know he even saw his kids.”
“Once a week, every week. And he always gives both mothers everything he can from his paycheck to help out financially.”
“Really?” Nash says in surprise.
“Really. He loves them so much. And now…” I shake my head and swipe the tears from under my eyes. “You and I know how much it hurts to find out your parents aren’t around and didn’t want us. It would be so wrong for his children to ever think that for even a second!”
“He’s a good father?”
“He is,” I say with a smile as more tears fall. “He cares about them and loves them more than anything, but he doesn’t think that he’s capable of being a father to them without supervision. And now, because of me, their mothers don’t think he is either.”
“Jeez, that sounds awful,” Nash says, and then he’s wrapping his arms around me and holding me as I cry.
When the tears finally begin to lessen, I take a deep breath and push Nash away. “Thanks, but I’m not the one who needs comforting.”
“Of course you do. You care about Fi-Phillip, and you don’t want him to be unhappy.”
“I think I love him,” I admit honestly.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to figure out how to fix this shit so that you two can be together, because I think he loves you too.”
“Really?”
Nash nods. “He’s never been so upset, especially about a woman. But tonight…it was like he just fell apart.”
“He blames me for what happened because I pushed him to have a playdate with the kids here. I didn’t even think about Ace, the dog we rescued, until they were almost here. I put him up in the bedroom so the kids wouldn’t see him. Then they heard him and saw him when I took him out. Kids can’t resist petting a dog, but his back leg is broken and in a cast.”
“He was protecting himself,” Nash says. “The dog thought the kids may hurt him, and he was already hurt.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not calling F-Phillip a dog, but I think he was hurt tonight and lashed out at you too, but he didn’t really mean it.”
“Whether or not he’s mad at me doesn’t matter if he can’t have visitation with his son and daughter.”
“Don’t they have some sort of custody agreement with visitation and child support all laid out?”
“No. Lawyers are expensive, so they’ve just handled everything between the three of them.”
“First things first, I think we need to get him a lawyer,” Nash suggests.
“That’s a good idea, but…”
“I’ll pay for it,” he says. “It’s the least I can do for him and for you.”
“Thank you,” I tell him with a smile and give him another quick hug. “Having a brother is starting to come in pretty handy.”
“Yeah, having a sister who is a nurse was pretty convenient for me and the MC too,” Nash jokes. “Don’t worry, Joanna. We’ll figure out a way to make things right not just with Phillip’s kids but with you and him.”
“You really think we will?” I ask.
“Yeah, we will. I promise,” Nash says, and I really want to believe he’ll make it happen.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joanna
“So, what can I help you with today?” Lauren Carmichael, the first civil attorney in the area who could give us an appointment, asks.
Nash, Devlin, and I are sitting across from her at the long conference table in her office, hoping we can figure out a way to help Phillip.
“We have a friend who has two children,” Nash starts. “He’s been paying child support without any sort of agreement with the two mothers. They only let him see the children for one supervised hour a week, and he gives them each about five-hundred dollars a week.”
“Okay. So, this meeting is to talk about your friend?” she asks in confusion.
“Yes,” Nash answers.
“And why isn’t he here?” Attorney Carmichael asks.
“We don’t want to get his hopes up,” I speak up and tell her. “I’m his…was his girlfriend,” I say since Phillip made it pretty clear that we’re over. “And these are his two good friends. Devlin works with Phillip, so he can tell you that a thousand dollars a week is nearly everything the men make at their construction job.”
“That’s right,” Devlin says with a shake of his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure how Fiasco, I mean, Phillip, is getting by if he’s giving the two mothers all of his weekly income.”
“He’s barely getting by,” I inform them. “He lives in a rundown apartment and barely has anything to eat. But neither of those things matter to him. He would rather spend the money to take care of his son and daughter. That’s how much he cares about them, so much that he makes sacrifices for himself,” I explain while blinking away tears. I will not cry while sitting here in the attorney’s office. I’ve done enough of that the last few days, pretty much every time I think about Phillip.
“We’re here to see if you can help him,” Nash tells the attorney. “If you can, then I want to pay your fees for him.”
“I want to help too,” Devlin says.
“Me too.”
“I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a case quite like this before,” Carmichael tells us. “If you can get me paystubs for the past two or three months, then we can figure out what a reasonable child support payment should look like. It’s not supposed to be ninety percent of a father’s earnings.”
“Phillip gives more like ninety-nine percent,” I tell her.
“You’re serious?” she asks me.
“I am.”
The attorney frowns and then asks, “What’s brought you to my office today, though? Why are you suddenly concerned enough for your friend and boyfriend to intervene?”
“Well, that’s my fault really,” I start to explain.
“No, it’s not,” Nash interrupts. “You have to stop blaming yourself.”
I explain the entire situation with Ace and Asher to the attorney, who looks less and less confident.
“The dog bite is probably going to be used against Phillip in court to try and keep him from having custody,” she informs us.
“That’s what I figured,” I say, swallowing down the burning in my throat from unshed tears.
“We need to get the two mothers on good terms with Phillip again if you want to go forward. Could you try and talk to them? Get them to sign an agreement I draw up?”
“What will the statement say?” Nash asks.
“That they will continue to receive child support if and only if it’s a court-approved custody agreement. Most mothers don’t have a problem signing it because they need the financial support. Do you think these women are desperate enough to sign an agreement?”
“Yes, most likely,” I say since I’ve seen where they live and know that they both work to make ends meet. “I’m guessing that they’ve come to depend on the income from Phillip. In fact, when he was recently injured and missed work, they started to refuse to let him see the children the hour on Sunday because he wasn’t able to give them enough money for those weeks.”
“Then let’s hope they’ll take our offer,” Carmichael replies as she jots down some notes on her yellow legal pad. “Before I can draw up an agreement, I’ll need the mothers’ full names, addresses, the children’s full names, dates of birth, and birth certificates would be preferable.”
My shoulders slump in defeat because I know getting all of that will take time and I remember that Phillip’s name won’t be on the birth certificates.
“My girlfriend can help get the documents together,” Nash says, reminding me about what he’s mentioned about Lucy, that she’s really good at finding anything you need online.
“Great,” Carmichael says with a smile.
“Will it be an issue that Phillip isn’t named as the father on the birth certificates?” I ask quietly.
“Are you kidding me?” she s
ays as her face falls. “Has he even had a DNA test?”
“I asked the same question. The mothers said that he has, but I haven’t seen them myself or talked to Phillip about them.”
Nash clears his throat. “Lucy may be able to locate those too.”
“You think so?” I look at him in surprise.
“Possibly.”
“I seriously doubt that anyone can get access to those tests except for the parties directly involved,” the attorney says. “They’re not public record.”
We all nod as if that makes a difference when we know that, with Lucy’s ability, she’ll probably be able to locate them.
“This sounds like it may be an even more complicated case than I first thought,” Carmichael informs us. “I’ll need a five-thousand-dollar retainer paid up front to bill against at my hourly rate of three-hundred dollars an hour and for any expenses incurred. Once I have those documents, I’ll draw up the agreement and send it to anyone who needs to see it if you’ll provide my assistant with your email addresses.”
“Okay,” Nash says as we all start to stand up. “I’ll start getting all the documents together while Dev works on getting copies of Phillip’s paystubs from work.”
“And I’ll sit around and twiddle my thumbs waiting, I guess,” I mutter.
“We’ll try to get this all done as soon as possible,” Nash assures me with a smile.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fiasco
“Everyone is here, so let’s call this meeting to order,” Malcolm says from the head of the Dirty Aces meeting table before slamming his gavel down. “So, what’s new?”
I don’t really hear much of what’s said after that. Nash starts talking about money coming in from the businesses, Dev asks if us enforcers are needed for anything, Wirth brags about how well the chop shop is doing, and Silas, well, he doesn’t say much, like usual, but unlike me, I doubt he’s drowning in his own head.
It’s been almost a week since I last saw Joanna. Neither Giselle nor Katrina will answer the door or my calls. I left them both messages telling them I had put their money in their mailboxes on Sunday, so hopefully they got it. And even though I went to the playground Sunday at two o’clock, neither of them showed up with the kids.
I sat there for hours waiting, hoping they were just running late while watching all the other happy families play. That shit was even more depressing, because the one hour a week I had was the closest I’ll ever get to having a real family, and now it’s gone.
A hand waves up and down in front of my face, and then I hear my name. Well, my nickname.
“Fiasco, you with us?” Malcolm asks.
“What do you want?” I ask. “Are there any assholes who need a beatdown? I wouldn’t mind busting my knuckles up today.”
“No, we don’t have any enforcer work right now,” Devlin responds.
“That’s too bad. It would feel good to hit something.”
“Hitting shit doesn’t solve anything,” Silas says.
“No, but it makes me feel less…less like this,” I tell him since I don’t know how to explain what’s going on inside my head. It’s like I’ve lost all hope. All the good shit that was in my life is gone.
“Things are going to get better, Phillip,” Nash says from his end of the table with Malcolm. It takes me a second to realize he used my actual name. I had avoided looking at him directly until now because he reminds me of Joanna. Add to that him calling me Phillip, and it’s almost too much.
“My name’s Fiasco,” I tell him. “Don’t call me anything else.”
“Joanna said you preferred to be called Phillip,” he says.
My teeth grind together at just the mention of her name. “Well, I don’t anymore,” I grumble.
“Too bad, because I don’t think of you as Fiasco anymore,” Nash says with a shrug.
“I’m warning you, man, if you use my real name again, I’ll kick your ass.”
“You’re not going to kick anyone’s ass for using the name you were given when you came into this world,” Malcolm huffs. “We get that you’re hurting, brother. Tell us what we can do to help.”
“There’s nothing any of you can do.”
“Are you sure about that?” Nash asks.
I glare at him for not dropping it, but at least he didn’t call me Phillip.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Everything is fucked up beyond repair, just like usual for me.”
“If you say so,” Malcolm replies with a sigh. Then, they all finally leave me the hell alone.
Joanna
“Thank you both for meeting me here,” I tell the women when I walk up to them with the manilla folder in my hand. They’re both seated on the same bench at the playground. I look to the swings and see Asher pushing Sierra, being a good big brother. “I know you both are busy, and I appreciate you making time to talk on a Wednesday night.”
“It’s not like your message gave us much choice,” Katrina complains. I left voicemails for both women, telling them that unless they showed up and signed paperwork, they won’t be getting any more financial help from Phillip. That’s not exactly true since I know Phillip and I doubt anything would stop him from helping them. They don’t know that we broke up yet, though. Hopefully that works in my favor for this bluff.
“How did you get our cell phone numbers?” Giselle asks, not quite as bitchy as Katrina, but more curious than anything.
“A friend of the MC is good with finding things online,” I say with a smile.
“So, what’s this about signing something?” Katrina asks.
“I know that you both have been handling things…casually with Phillip until now because he’s been dependable. You trust him. And you should. He’s a good man. But, it hasn’t been fair what you’re doing to him, barely giving him a chance to see his children even though he gives you all he has for them.”
“You and he lost that chance when you let that goddamn dog bite my son!” Katrina yells.
“The dog had an injured leg and Asher touched it before we could stop him. Yes, he bit him, but he didn’t even break the skin. No parent can prevent every accident from happening. Has Asher ever fallen and gotten hurt while you were watching him, Katrina? What about you, Giselle? Has Sierra ever scraped her legs even though you were right there with her?”
Neither woman answers, but their lowered eyes are answer enough. “All kids get hurt at some time or another. And yes, as parents, you do everything you can to prevent as many of those events from happening as possible, but you’re not psychic. I think you can both admit that Phillip loves Asher and Sierra and that he would give his life to keep them safe. I don’t just mean that figuratively. I think he would honestly jump in front of a car or take a bullet to save them, because that’s how much he loves them. He may not have much experience with children, but he’s a great protector, and that’s a pretty good start.”
“What are you getting at here, Joanna?” Giselle asks.
“A civil attorney has been hired on Phillip’s behalf. He would let you take the shirt off his back for those kids before he would walk away, even if you never let him see them again. I’m begging you to review this document, talk to your own attorney, if you think it’s necessary, but then sign the agreement rather than take advantage of his kind heart.”
I open the folder and pull out a copy to hand to each of them. “This agreement states that Phillip will continue to provide you each with forty percent of his weekly earnings. But in return, he gets one full day and the option of a night with both kids once a week on the condition that he’s never alone with them. Another adult will always be there too, not because Phillip isn’t capable of handling the children on his own, but because anyone could use a little help with two young kids. All of Phillip’s MC brothers have volunteered to take turns until both of you along with Phillip agree to letting him have the kids without supervision.”
I give the women time to read the multi-page document and watch the children play. When they
’re done, I add, “You’ll notice that this document, once signed by all parties, also holds Phillip to providing child support; and if he ever fails to do that for more than two weeks, you’ll be able to take him to court. So, it’s protecting you both too.”
Giselle sighs and says, “I’ll have to read it over a little more at home and think about it, Joanna.”
“I understand. What about you, Katrina?”
“Do we really have a choice?” she asks with a scowl.
“No, you don’t, not if you want to keep draining Phillip of every cent he makes. We’ve added up the figures with the attorney. Did you know that he’s currently giving you both about ninety-five percent of what he makes? He’s been incredibly generous to the point that he’s hurting himself. But now he needs a break. Let him keep twenty percent for himself and see the kids a full day each week. I know it can’t be easy on him to think he may not get to see them again.”
“You make it sound like you haven’t talked to him about it,” Giselle remarks.
“I haven’t. We sort of broke up.” I start to blurt out that he doesn’t even know that his friends and I have been talking to an attorney for him, but that could be all the women need to tear up the agreement and walk away.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Giselle says. “He seemed to really care about you.”
“Yeah, he did,” I agree. “But after the dog bit Asher…”
“That’s why he left you?” Katrina asks.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” If I didn’t know any better, I would say that she looks and sounds almost sad about that. “So why are you still here trying to help him if he dumped you?”
“Because I want him to be happy, even if I’m not in his life.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” Giselle says. “And I think we all overreacted about the dog bite.”
“Easy for you to say, it wasn’t your kid that had teeth marks in his hand!” Katrina scoffs.
