Cabin Fever

by Marilyn Pappano

  Obie looked uncomfortable, Marlene antagonistic. At least she was there. That counted for something. She looked at him as if he were contagious, then fixed her gaze on Nolie. “I assume you had a reason for asking us here today.”

  “Actually, no, I didn’t, because it wasn’t my—”

  “I’m the one who invited you,” Chase interrupted, “and, yes, I had a reason for it.” He flexed his fingers around the file he held, wondering whether to explain first or let them read for themselves. He’d gone over the words a dozen times, softening, strengthening, and he still wasn’t satisfied with them, but they got the point across. They would do. “Let’s go to the counter.”

  He stepped back so Nolie could precede him up the aisle, but for a long moment she refused to move. It was a hell of a time for her to develop a spine where her in-laws were concerned. Finally, though, she relented and led the way to the counter.

  Chase detoured to the door, turning the OPEN sign so the BACK SOON message on the reverse showed, then he followed them. Obie and Marlene stood on the near side, Nolie opposite, all three of them pointedly ignoring the others. He went to stand beside Nolie, and she ignored him, too. He couldn’t blame her.

  He tapped the file folder on the countertop before setting it down. “You people have known one another forever. You were around when Nolie was born. You took her in when her parents died. You were there when she married your son and had his daughter, and you were there when she buried him. And now you can’t carry on a civil conversation or even be in the same room with one another without getting angry.”

  Nolie gave him a less-than-agreeable look.

  “I know,” he said. “You think you have good reason to be angry with Marlene. And she thinks she has equally good reason to be angry with you.”

  “But she’s wrong,” Nolie said politely.

  “You don’t get to judge her perception as wrong. You see things your way. She sees them her way. You might not agree with her, but that doesn’t make her wrong.”

  That polite, even tone didn’t waver. “I disagree. Using my daughter to threaten me because she didn’t like the man I was seeing was very wrong.”

  “That wasn’t a threat,” Marlene replied coolly. “It was a simple fact. I won’t have Jeff’s little girl exposed to—to trash like him.”

  “Marlene—”

  She gave Obie a derisive glare. “Don’t ‘Marlene—’ me. You were as concerned as I was when we found out our grandbaby was practically living with her mother’s ex-con boyfriend!”

  “Sure, I was concerned, and I agreed we should come here and make sure everything was okay, and it was . . . at least, until we arrived.”

  “Okay?” Marlene echoed, her voice little more than a whisper before it rose to a shriek. “Okay? This man, this-this thief, is trying to take Jeff’s place in our family! He’s sleeping with Nolie! He’s reading bedtime stories to Mikey! She already talks about him as if-as if he’s—” A strangled sob cut off her words. She dragged in a breath and her shoulders slumped before she found a new source of strength. “He’s not her father, and he can’t ever be! I won’t allow it!”

  “You won’t allow it?” Obie looked as if he wanted to shake his wife, but his hands remained at his sides. “Who do you think you are? It’s not your life, Marlene. It’s Nolie’s, and you have no say in how she lives it. As long as she’s a good mother to Mikey—and you know she is— how she lives and who she chooses to live with are none of your business!”

  Marlene drew up to her full height, the very picture of self-righteous anger. “We’ll see if Harrison Clinton agrees with you. I’ve already spoken to Tommy Wilks, and he thinks Harrison will be very sympathetic to our case.”

  Wilks, Chase assumed, was their lawyer back home— and probably second cousin to the judge, with his luck.

  “Our case?” Obie echoed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “We’re suing for custody of Mikey. Tommy will file the papers Monday,” Marlene announced calmly, then flung a hand in Chase’s direction. “I warned him. I gave him the chance to do the right thing, and he refused. Heavens, I gave Nolie the same chance, and she refused to see what was before her own eyes. ‘Chase isn’t a criminal, he’s innocent,’ ” she mimicked, then made a disgusted sound. “They’ve left us no other choice. Jeff isn’t here to protect his daughter, so we have to do it for him. Now . . . I’ve heard all I intend to listen to. Obie, we’re leaving.”

  He stared at her, openmouthed, while Nolie gazed at Chase, a speculative look in her eyes. Before either of them could speak, Chase resorted to the voice he’d used with the most recalcitrant of his former clients. “Mrs. Harper, please come back here and hear me out.”

  There hadn’t been a murderer or drug dealer in the bunch who’d refused him. For a long moment it looked as if Marlene would be the first, but finally she returned and stood scowling at him.

  “First, I know you don’t think much of me, but I am— I was a very good lawyer. If Tommy Wilks is any kind of lawyer, he’ll tell you right upfront that you don’t have a case against Nolie.” It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to arrive at that realization—back in Boston, he would have lambasted any lawyer so imperceptive—but at least he had the excuse that this situation could decide his entire future. A man could be excused for letting emotion rule.

  “To get custody of your granddaughter, you’ll have to prove that her mother’s unfit. Living in a state other than Arkansas and dating a man you don’t like doesn’t make her unfit. Having a love life doesn’t, and neither does having that life with an ex-con. I served my sentence. The state of Massachusetts has no further interest in me, and with regard to that aspect of my life, neither does any other jurisdiction. If you go into court, even in front of your good friend, Judge Clinton, with nothing more than that, you’re going to be dismissed as a bitter, petulant, domineering woman.”

  Conveniently, he ignored the fact that injustices still occurred, that her good friend just might give her her heart’s desire.

  When she would have spoken, he raised one hand. “Worse than that, you’re going to destroy this family—not just you and Nolie, but also you and Micahlyn. Do you think she’s going to take kindly to the grandmother who’s trying to destroy the mother she adores?”

  Marlene didn’t answer—just pursed her lips sourly. It was a good sign that she didn’t try to argue the inarguable.

  “Truth is, Mrs. Harper, you don’t want to hurt this family anymore than it’s already been hurt. You don’t want to take Micahlyn away from her mother. I don’t think you even care that much about getting rid of me.” He didn’t pause long enough for her to dispute that last statement. “You’re afraid of losing Jeff’s place in Nolie’s and Micahlyn’s lives. You’re afraid Nolie will fall in love with another man, that Micahlyn will call him Daddy, that she’ll call his parents Grandma and Grandpa. You’re afraid of losing your place in their lives.”

  She continued to stare, her expression unrelenting, but her chin trembled just a bit.

  “That’s not going to happen,” he went on quietly. “You’ve been in their house. There are pictures of Jeff in the living room, in Nolie’s and Micahlyn’s rooms. There are pictures of you and Mr. Harper. One of the first things Nolie ever told me was that she talked about Jeff a lot so Micahlyn would know what kind of man her father was and how much he loved her. That’ll never change. Even if Micahlyn chooses someday to call another man Dad, it’s not going to diminish Jeff’s place in her life.”

  The silence dragged out, moment after moment. Finally, Marlene spoke, her tone still hostile, though subdued. “Is there a point to all of this?”

  “Yes, there is. On the surface, it appears that you and Nolie have totally different desires. You want her and Micahlyn home, where you can take care of them and be a part of their lives. She wants to stay here, where she can live her own life. But in your heart, you want the same things. You want to be happy, you want to keep Jeff’s memory alive, and you
want Micahlyn to grow up safe and well-loved.

  “If there’s one thing I learned practicing law, it’s that every problem can be resolved, usually by compromise. You each give a little and, ideally, you each get a lot. That’s what I have here—a compromise. It ensures that you and Obie will always be a large part of your granddaughter’s life, but it gives Nolie the right to live without undue interference from you. She gets all the responsibility of raising Micahlyn the best she can, and you get all the fun of being grandparents.” He removed a stack of papers from the folder, then passed a copy to each of them. “Read it—and don’t say anything until you do,” he added when Marlene opened her mouth.

  He had a copy for himself, but he didn’t bother to look at it. He’d practically memorized the text while he worked on it in Leanne’s office. It was written in the form of a contract and basically stated, though in more detail, what he’d already said. It covered major holidays, summer visits to the Harpers’ farm, and the grandparents’ right to spoil their granddaughter rotten, while granting Nolie the right to make all the decisions for herself and Micahlyn, from where they lived to whom they loved, without interference. It ended with a clause tying it all together. Everyone had to live up to his or her end of the bargain, or they all lost.

  If they lost their family, they would lose big.

  The heavy silence was finally broken by Obie. “You would agree to this?” he asked Nolie, hopefulness heavy in his voice. “Letting us spend Christmas with you? Letting Mikey spend a whole month in the summer with us?”

  Beside Chase, Nolie remained silent, her skeptical gaze on the document. Out of sight of the Harpers, he nudged his foot against hers and she shifted a few inches away before looking up. “Having you here for Christmas would be great. And, yes, I’d love to let Micahlyn visit you during the summer, though I’d like to wait until she’s a few years older before she goes away for a whole month.”

  There was another pause, then another question from Obie. “This is just an agreement between three people. What if Nolie changes her mind?”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Nolie replied. “It was never my intention to cut you out of Micahlyn’s life. That wouldn’t be fair to her, to you, to Jeff, or to me.”

  “But what if you—” Obie’s mouth thinned, and he took a quick look at Chase before going on. “What if you remarry, and your new husband believes he has good reason to not like us? What if he tells you we can’t see her anymore?”

  Nolie’s jaw tightened and her voice took on a sharp edge. “That would never happen. What would I want with a man who could dismiss your importance in Micahlyn’s life?”

  Chase wanted badly to volunteer that he understood the importance of family, though he hadn’t always—to assure the Harpers that he would never interfere with their rightful place in Micahlyn’s world. He remained silent, though. This was the more minor of his problems. No matter what happened here, he still had to make things right with Nolie, and so far, she hadn’t given him much encouragement.

  “They say at Harry’s that Christmas is really something around here,” Obie mused. “It might be a nice change from our last thirty Christmases.”

  “I think it would,” Nolie agreed.

  Marlene dropped her copy of the agreement and let it flutter to the floor. “I’m not spending Christmas here. And why should I settle for a month with Mikey when I can have her year-round?”

  “You won’t get her year-round.” Chase’s voice was firm, his conviction solid. “You might persuade Judge Clinton to grant custody of her to you, but Nolie will fight it, and I’ll help her—and I warn you, Mrs. Harper, I don’t fight fair.”

  “You’re not a lawyer anymore,” she said dismissively.

  “No, I’m not. But I’ve still got all the knowledge, expertise, and experience that made me the best criminal defense lawyer in Boston. I can keep you and Tommy Wilks tied up in court until Mica’s long past the age where custody is even an issue.”

  For a long still moment, he held her gaze. She wasn’t backing down . . . but neither was he. This was one battle he wouldn’t turn away from.

  When Obie spoke, his voice was so calm, so reasonable, that it caught Chase off guard. “That won’t be necessary,” he said and he reached for the ink pen resting next to the cash register.

  “You can’t sign that!” Marlene shrieked.

  “I am signing it, and what’s more, so are you.” He scrawled his name on his copy, took Nolie’s and signed it, then retrieved Marlene’s from the floor and signed it, too. Done, he slid all three copies to Marlene, then offered her the pen.

  “I won’t do it.”

  “You will.”

  With bright spots of color in her cheeks, Marlene shook her head. “I’m getting custody of my grandbaby. I’m calling Tommy as soon as we get back to the motel, and I’m telling him to file the papers immediately.”

  “I’m calling Tommy as soon as we get back to the motel, too, and I’m telling him that I will not pay any legal bills you run up. And then I’m calling Harrison, and I’m telling him he’d better not consider, for even a minute, helping you with this madness. And then I’m calling the airline and making reservations to go home as soon as possible. You can go with me, or not. It’s up to you.”

  Clutching one hand to her throat, Marlene looked as if she might faint. It was probably the first time he’d ever denied her anything she wanted, Chase thought, and it had left her speechless. Probably the first time for that, too.

  Obie slapped the ink pen down on the counter with a thud. “Sign the damned papers, Marlene.”

  She wanted to refuse—it was obvious in her expression—but some part of her was afraid he would make good on his threats. Some part of her was very afraid that the family she was about to destroy was her own.

  Grudgingly she picked up the pen and wrote her name on each of the three copies. When she was done, Nolie did the same.

  Chase handed a copy to Nolie, two to Obie. “This is pretty much a symbolic gesture, but if you want to make it binding, you can have it notarized and swear under oath to uphold the terms therein.”

  “We’re family,” Obie said stiffly. “Family doesn’t have to swear under oath. Nolie . . . I am so sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused. Things will change. You have my word on that.”

  “Mine, too,” she murmured.

  “We’ll be in touch later. Right now we have things to discuss.” Taking the papers in one hand and Marlene’s arm in the other, he turned her toward the door, and he didn’t let go until he helped her into the car. She sat there, stiff and pinch-faced, as he backed out, then drove away.

  Chase raised one hand to ease the tightness in his neck, exhaled loudly, then looked at Nolie. She was looking back, an intense, steady gaze that made him shift uncomfortably. The minor problem was out of the way. Now for the major one. . . .

  “Thank you.”

  He wanted so much more from her than thanks, but he automatically replied, “You’re welcome.”

  “After all that happened, I know it wasn’t easy for you to step back into your lawyer persona and draw up those documents.”

  “Sometimes the law can be used for good instead of evil,” he said with a wry smile. “I’d forgotten that.”

  Still speaking in a very polite tone, she said, “So I have Marlene to thank for the misery of the past few days.”

  “Marlene . . . and me. She didn’t force me to make that choice, but . . . I’m sorry.”

  “You thought it was best for Micahlyn and me.” She raised one hand to brush a speck of something from his shirt, then left it there, palm flat against his chest. “You were terribly wrong, but you had the best intentions.”

  “I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t win a custody battle.”

  “So when you said she couldn’t a while ago, you were lying?”

  “We lawyers prefer to call it bluffing.”

  She smiled, a sweet, faint upturn of her mouth. “You bluff very well. You practically had m
e convinced I meant nothing to you.”

  Laying his hand over hers, he curled his fingers with hers. “Practically?”

  “I had a little faith.”

  “You’ve had more faith in me than anyone else I’ve ever known. More than I’ve had in myself.”

  “So . . . are you going to tell me anytime soon that you love me?”

  “Yes, I am.” But not yet. Lifting her hand from his chest, he pressed a kiss to the back of it, then stroked one fingertip back and forth over the band on her fourth finger. It was slim, gold, marred by scratches and the hard knocks of life, but it hadn’t lost its sparkle . . . or its meaning. He wanted that symbolism, wanted that meaning, for her, for himself, forever.

  Looking up, he found her watching him with a tentative smile. He stroked the warm gold once again for courage, looked her in the eye, and asked, “If I give you a ring of my own, will you put that one away for Micahlyn?”

  Her smile grew steadier, surer, brighter. “Yes,” she replied simply. “I will.”

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, MARLENE AND OBIE LEFT for home. Nolie had offered to close up the store and go to the airport with them, but they’d preferred a private good-bye in Bethlehem over a crowd at an airport. Marlene unbent from her martyrdom enough to cry, and so did Micahlyn. While Nolie didn’t get weepy herself, she was sorry to see them go—and a little relieved, too, without feeling the least bit guilty about it.

  After they’d gone, Chase took Micahlyn to day care, then called the store. “Put up the CLOSED sign and meet me for lunch at Harry’s.”

  “Umm, you tempt me.”

  “Oh, babe, that’s not tempting. Tempting is when I . . .” His voice trailed to a whisper, his tone naughty, and raised her body temperature a few hundred degrees. Before she could respond—or simply sink weak-kneed to the floor— he laughed. “Come on. One hour. Lunch.”

  She really shouldn’t. She would bet old Hiram hadn’t ever shut the store down when it was supposed to be open, not when his wife left him, not even when his daughter ran away.

  But she wasn’t old Hiram. She had a life, and family, and more important things to do in the middle of the day than work—today, at least. “Okay. I’ll be there in five.”