I jam an elbow lightly into her and she laughs at me. I pretend I’m put off, but really, it’s so strange and nice to have her like this.
Charlie’s fascinated by the tortoises so we stay there for several minutes.
“It’s such a beautiful day,” Shannon muses.
I turn to her. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on with you?”
“What?”
I narrow my eyebrows and give her a for real? look.
“Nothing’s going on.” Her eyes cut away from me.
Wow, could she be more obvious that she’s trying to hide something.
“Oh my gosh, is it a guy?” I ask, getting excited. “Did you meet someone?”
“Oh look,” Shannon says loudly, “Charlie’s bored with the tortoises. Want to go on one of the rides, buddy?”
Charlie starts jumping up and down.
“Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there,” I grumble at Shannon as Charlie starts trying to run ahead of us, yanking on both our arms to get us to hurry.
“All right, all right, bud, wait up for us,” I laugh and quicken my steps. And to think I was wondering if we should bring the stroller. Though I know at some point all this excess energy is going to be used up and then we’ll have a suddenly overly-tired little boy on our hands, he’s having too much fun to overthink it right now.
“Bet you’re rethinking the kid leash now,” Shannon says and I shoot her a devil glare.
Right as she says it, we see a kid around Charlie’s age toddle by strapped into one of the ridiculous things. The three-foot leash is stretched taut as the kid races in front of his harried looking dad who’s got the other end of the tether wrapped several times around his wrist.
“Oh my God, no. Just, no.” I finally give in and laugh. “I swear, when I first saw one of those things, I was standing behind a counter and I just saw a woman holding a leash. I leaned over to see what kind of dog she had and there was a kid attached instead. I was like what the eff?”
“Language,” Shannon frowns at me.
I roll my eyes at her. Did she not hear me edit myself? I always turn off my potty mouth around Charlie.
It’s too crazy crowded to do much talking on our way to the rides. It’s not until we have Charlie strapped in to the ladybug merry-go-round ride that I can corner Shannon again.
We pull back to stand with the other parents. I take out my phone to snap some shots of Charlie vigorously grabbing the little wheel in the ladybug car and bouncing up and down on the seat as the ride starts to slowly whir around and around. His particular peal of laughter fills me with warmth as I get a perfect shot of his grinning face, dark little curls catching the slightest bit of wind.
“So is it a guy?” I ask my sister. I’m not letting her off the hook. “Is that why I get sunshine Shannon today?”
She lets out a huff of air beside me. “If we’re talking about men, you should be the one spilling. From the little I saw of the man last night, I liked him. And he was nice on the phone when he called later.”
I look over at her to see if she’s mocking me, but she actually looks sincere. Still, I ask, “Are you fudging with me?” Yes, fudging. Charlie might be safely out of hearing distance while he’s on the ride, but there are other kids around.
She narrows her eyes at me. “What? I can’t be interested in your love life?”
I raise an eyebrow. “To tell me I’m doing it wrong, sure.”
She gives me a head shake. “Don’t be so juvenile, Callie. Mr. Vale seemed like a perfectly nice man. Respectable.”
An image of him bending me over his lap in the limo flashes through my mind. Yeah, doubt she would say that if she knew the details of last night. I smirk inwardly as she keeps going.
“He has a good job,” she continues. “He’s a colleague but doesn’t work in the same office so you avoid any complications there—”
“He wants me to come work for him,” I interrupt.
Her expression instantly morphs. “You have to make everything more complicated, don’t you?” She watches Charlie as he goes around and around, that look back on her face. The one she usually wears when I’m around. Exasperation tinged with disappointment.
For a second I don’t say anything. God, it was stupid to tell her he offered me a job. We were finally getting along for once. Like, being regular sisters. Then I go and ruin it.
But no, that’s shitty. I shouldn’t have to keep the peace only by keeping secrets. I’m done with bullshit.
“Shannon, can you just stop?” I touch her arm so she looks back at me. “I know I’ve made mistakes in the past. A lot of mistakes, okay? But regrets don’t do any good. I can’t go back and do things different. And I wouldn’t,” I say more firmly. “They brought me Charlie.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be learning from your mistakes and breaking old habits,” Shannon says, eyes flashing.
“I know,” I meet her eye to eye. “And I am. Even the past couple months. Believe me,” I shake my head, thinking about my stupidity in walking into Bryce Gentry’s office and accepting the devil’s bargain he offered. I truly believed that was my only option to get out of my predicament.
Run into a problem that seems unfixable? Let a man use my body—that’s my go-to solution. I’ve just assumed my body is where my only worth lies. It’s what I was taught, after all. From a girl growing up in pageants to the abuse I experienced as a teen to my damn college professor preying on my vulnerabilities my first real year of college. Then to Bryce.
Christ, how have I not seen that it’s a pattern before now? “I am learning,” I say more quietly. “I’m different now.” The more I say it, the more I can believe it, right? “It’s not like that between Jackson and me.”
“Only if you don’t let it be. Don’t work for him.”
I pause before I say anything else. Is she right? I force myself to really consider it. I just told her I’m learning, but how is Jackson different? I myself just realized that I went from one older man with abusive power over me to David to Bryce. Is Jackson really so different? I questioned his motives to his face last night and all his answers seemed genuine, but I’m not the naïve little girl I once was.
Men lie to get what they want.
This morning when I got home just before noon, I showered. But I swear I can still feel Jackson’s hand caressing my cheek as he said goodbye on his huge columned porch. He held me back from going to the town car where his driver waited to take me home.
“I want to be there in court on Monday,” he said.
My mouth dropped open. The only way he’d known anything about it was because he demanded to see me for lunch on Monday and I’d explained why I couldn’t meet him.
“You barely know me,” I sputtered. “You can’t come to my son’s custody hearing!”
His face darkened. “I think we’ve gotten to know each other very well, very quickly.” His eyes were heavy-lidded as he pressed his pelvis into mine. Christ, he was already hard again. The man had the stamina of a bull.
Me being me, I just started blushing like crazy. “That’s not what I mean.”
“No?” An eyebrow raised. “There’s a reason they call it knowing one’s wife in the Bible. I think we’ve gotten very intimately acquainted in the past twenty-four hours.” He leaned in so that his words were a hot whisper in my ear. “And I for one intend on intimately knowing every single inch of your body.”
And I mean, what the hell was a girl supposed to say to that? He pulled back then as if sensing I was getting to my holy-shit-this-is-too-intense freak-out point.
Then, right as I finally turned toward the car, he reminded me he’d be sending over a detailed employment packet.
“It’s completely separate from what happens between you and me, Callie,” he reminded me. “But please seriously consider it. I could really use you there.”
I was flattered this morning, but now the words take on a different context. He could really use me. And what exa
ctly will be left over after he’s done using me up?
But Jackson’s not like that, another voice in my head argues.
How do you know? You’ve known him, what? All of three weeks? Of which, you’ve spent a total of maybe sixteen hours in his company? Half of which were spent sleeping.
But last night… and then again this morning… He was so tender. So considerate in his love-making. It was explosive and intense and you felt so incredibly connected—
Awesome. So now I’m letting myself be blinded by great sex.
He wanted to be at your son’s custody hearing—
As a way to make me more emotionally dependent on him. He’s moving way too fast, too soon. Why? Because he’s trying to manipulate me just like the rest of them.
The ladybugs slow and the ride comes to a stop.
“I don’t know,” I finally say, rubbing my temple quickly. “Maybe you’re right.” I move to go grab Charlie but Shannon puts a hand on my arm.
“Are you serious?”
I shake my arm out of her grasp. “Don’t look so surprised. Look, none of it matters right now. We just have to get through the custody hearing on Monday. Everything else can be figured out after that.”
She nods and I see her brows pinch together in worry. She walks with me to grab Charlie. “I’ve started doing guided meditation my doctor suggested for stress,” she murmurs. “It’s the only way I’ve been able to manage all week, I’m so freaked out about Monday.”
We get to Charlie and there’s no more time for talk.
“Hey buddy,” I unlatch the little seatbelt and lift a grinning Charlie out of the ladybug car. I prop him on my hip.
“Again!”
I laugh and snuggle my face into his neck. Best smell in the world. Sunlight and my little boy. “We gotta give all the other girls and boys waiting in line a chance to go.”
He rubs his eyes and I can tell the afternoon is finally starting to wear on him. I know he’s about to object loudly and probably with a fair share of whining, so I interject before he can, “How about some ice cream to cap off this lovely afternoon?”
“Ice cweam!”
Distraction managed.
He starts bouncing up and down on my hip, his strong muscles all but jostling him out of my arms. “Down. Down!”
All right. I guess his energy reserves aren’t completely gone yet.
I set him down and Shannon and I both take one of his hands.
The snack station is close to the rides, so soon we’re in line for ice cream. Charlie hugs my leg and leans his head against my knee. Gah. Heart explode. How on earth did I create such an amazing little human being? It still blows my mind sometimes that I carried him in my belly and now he’s out in the world walking and talking and growing up more and more every day.
I run a hand through his dark silky curls. When I glance up at Shannon, her eyes are soft as she watches me with Charlie. Which makes me soften toward her. She might have said some things that were hard to hear today, but she’s not necessarily wrong. No more jumping into things without considering every angle. I’m not letting my past determine my future anymore. I refuse to keep mindlessly repeating the same patterns. I’m not going to be that girl.
“So it’s yoga or meditation or whatever that’s got you in such a good mood?”
A slight smile tilts Shannon’s lips. “Yes, I have discovered the Zen way of life.”
I nod, impressed. I’ve never really managed to be able to sit still for more than five minutes at a time the few attempts I’ve made at meditating.
“Of course,” she leans in, “it helps that Sunil, the guy who leads the guided meditation class at the Zen center I’ve been going to, asked me out on a date tonight.”
It takes a second for her words to register, but then I grin like a fool. “Way to go, Zen master.”
“Ha. Far from it.” A slight blush rises on her cheeks. “The only reason we got to talking is because I was having so much trouble emptying my mind even during the ten-minute period at the end of the introduction classes. I went up to him after class and explained my doctor basically prescribed meditation to help my stress levels, but I didn’t think I had a hope in hell of it working on me.”
“You didn’t!”
She nods ruefully. “He offered to give me a private session. I thought it was something the center just offered. Nope. He was just taking pity on me.”
“Or he saw how great your legs are in yoga pants.”
“Shut up!” She smacks me on the shoulder. “That wasn’t it at all. He said he could see how stressed out I was. That I had a sickly cloudy blue aura.”
I clap a hand over my mouth but still can’t stifle my laugh.
Shannon cuffs my shoulder again, with a lot more force this time.
“Ouch. Sorry, sorry,” I hold up one hand, grabbing Charlie with the other since he’s let go of my leg and is about to make a break for it into the crowd. “What does a cloudy blue aura mean?”
Shannon rolls her eyes a little bit. That’s more like her. I don’t see her buying into auras or new-agey stuff. She’s so logical and numbers-oriented. It’s what makes her a good graphic designer. Her designs are complex, structural, and precise.
“Supposedly that I have a fear of the future, and I’m bad at self-expression.”
My eyebrows pop up. “Maybe there’s something to this after all.”
This earns me another smack.
“You’re setting a bad example for Charlie. Charlie,” I look down at my little half-pint. “Tell Auntie Shannon whether hitting is good or bad.”
His whole body tips back, not just his head, as he looks up at us. If Shan and I weren’t holding his hand, he’d be on his butt.
“Hitting baaaaaaaaaaaad!” he exclaims.
I look over at my sister with mock chastisement, shaking my head. “From the mouth of babes.”
“Anyway,” she does the half-eye roll thing again, “supposedly with meditation, positive thinking, and eliminating toxins and extraneous sugars from my diet, I’ll feel like a whole new woman.”
“Is it working?”
“I’ll tell you after I eat this delicious sugary ice cream.”
I laugh and move forward. We’re finally to the front of the line.
Shannon and Charlie get chocolate ice cream and I get strawberry. We manage to snag an empty bench right as another family leaves. I eat mine so quickly I get a brain freeze, but damn, it’s good ice cream. Meanwhile, Charlie ends up a complete chocolatey mess. No matter how many times I run back for extra napkins, more has dripped down his face. It covers his cheeks, is underneath his chin, and of course, some from his hand ends up in his hair.
But he’s laughing and enjoying the goopy treat the whole time, so screw it. My face hurts from smiling by the end of the afternoon.
My little chocolatey-faced angel falls asleep in the Uber we splurge on to get home. I’m sandwiched in the middle between the car seat and Shannon. She leans over me to look at Charlie and smiles.
“You did good,” she whispers and gives my hand a quick squeeze. Then anxiety draws her eyebrows together. “You’re sure you and the lawyer have everything ready for Monday?”
Really, I’m impressed she hasn’t been harping on me about it all day. Or all week, for that matter. Maybe there really is something to the meditation stuff after all. “My lawyer’s got it covered. I’m meeting with him tomorrow for one last strategy session, but from email and talks we’ve had over the phone, he’s confident we’ll win. There’s no way David’s getting full custody.”
Her hand squeezes mine again and she leans her head back against the seat, breathing out in relief. “You’re doing good, Callie.”
From my sister, this is high praise.
Chapter Fifteen
“Have you eaten this morning?” Don asks as we walk into the courthouse together on Monday morning.
I nod even though it verges on a lie. Really, I just barely managed to get down a cup of Calm & Soothe
tea and half a piece of toast. I wasn’t very hungry anyway. I stress ate my weight in bagels and pastries yesterday afternoon at the last three-hour strategy session Don and I had at his office.
Don coached me on what to expect and how to react—or rather, not react—through all of it. But no matter how nauseous I feel, I’m ready, Goddammit. Even if my body feels as tight as overly-strung guitar strings. I’ve got to keep it together and manage not to snap, no matter what bullshit David and Regina’s lawyers put out there today.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” Don pats my shoulder, offering what I assume is meant to be a reassuring smile. Even though he’s dressed in a fairly sharp suit, with his unruly graying hair, he always reminds me of a sit-com dad. I’ve seen him put on his attack lawyer-mode before, though, so when he says, “Come on, we’re ready. You know they have no case to push for full custody. You’re a great mom. Don’t let them get in your head and make you second-guess that,” I relax.
I release the breath I’ve been holding. Yes. Of course, he’s right. The courts aren’t the boogeyman. I believe in justice, don’t I? No matter how much they pay their attorney, the facts are on my side. I didn’t know what I was doing last time and I let them steamroll me.
I set my jaw. Not today. Besides, I’ve got my own bulldog lawyer this time. I nod at Don and he smiles again as he holds open the door to the courthouse.
The courthouse is a newer building. My heels clack clack on the black and white tiles once we’re inside. Don consults with a uniformed man who points us down one of the hallways branching from the large open area.
“We’ll be meeting in courtroom three,” Don says.
I swallow and follow him. Last time it was so informal. We met in the Judge’s chambers around a table. But when we step into the courtroom, the judge is wearing the full robes. The same judge that heard our case the first time. Dammit. I hate that he already has preconceived notions of me based on my abysmal presentation at the initial hearing.
No. Don’t overthink it. Today is a new day.
I try to focus on other details. The courtroom isn’t large. It doesn’t look like one of those rooms where you’d see a trial like on TV. No beautifully finished bench up front or rows of pews for the public. Nope, just fluorescent lights overhead and a bunch of desks arranged in a large rectangle. Then again, Don told me that this isn’t a real trial yet, that family court cases often don’t actually make it to trial. Like less than ten percent of them. This is what’s called a motion. It’s where cases are argued to a judge and then he makes a decision.
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