Reid had always taken care of Tara the best he could, but her problems weren’t ones he could solve. “Tara,” he whispered, the tears all dried now. She looked at him quizzically, probably wondering why his voice was so low and controlled. Before she could ask, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to hers. He expected a shove backward, maybe a slap or a shout. What he hadn’t expected was her lips parting and her tongue swirling into his mouth. He didn’t think she knew how to kiss, let alone French kiss—and pretty damn well.
Reid’s hand slid to her cheek and held her there, not wanting this to end. It was like connecting so many parts of his life all at once. His best friend, his biggest cheerleader, was now also the person making his heart thud with excitement and his body beg for more.
But there was a buzzing in his brain, a tiny voice that had been so quiet lately. Every time he put a bottle of beer to his lips, he silenced it. Every time he skipped a math quiz he silenced it. But right now, with his lips on hers, it was growing louder every second. If there was anything between them, anything real, it wasn’t meant to happen like this.
Reid pulled back from the kiss too suddenly to seem natural, and too awkwardly to be interpreted as anything accidental. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered out into the small gap between their faces.
“No,” she said, clutching one hand to his shirt. “No, I wanted you to do that. Don’t apologize.”
“We shouldn’t do anything tonight,” he cautioned. “I . . . uh, the drinking.” He ran his hand over his hair and swallowed hard.
“Yeah,” she said, looking reluctant, keeping her face close in case he changed his mind. “You should sleep.” She stood, and he ached for how nervous she looked. She rarely acted self-conscious in front of him and now tonight, it was all she seemed to be doing, all hunched shoulders and arms folding over herself. She walked to her bed and grabbed one of her pillows, tossing it to him. Then she yanked her purple unicorn blanket off the chair, throwing that down too.
“I’m not going to drink anymore,” he promised, pulling the blanket up over himself, making the best out of the hard floor and ignoring the queasy feeling in his stomach.
“Good,” she said, crawling to the end of her bed and smiling at him. “I’ll remind you in the morning when you forget you said that.”
But he already knew he’d be gone by the time she woke up. He’d changed everything tonight, and maybe that would have been all right. Until he realized this was what she’d been waiting for. Tara had high expectations for him and failing was about the only thing he did consistently lately. Knowing now she wanted something to happen between them, that she was depending on it, made him more certain than ever that it never could.
Chapter 13
“I’m going with 99.9,” Willow said, dropping a stack of papers down on Reid’s desk. “I have found no pattern or indication of any habitual drug use. Her coworkers never reported her as acting anything other than a little tired. She hasn’t been to a doctor in a long time, likely because she doesn’t have good insurance. But the few records she does have don’t indicate any issue of drug abuse. There are no reports to Child Protective Services. And get this,” she flipped open one of the files and pointed excitedly. “I spoke with three former friends of the boy’s father, and they all confirmed she was never part of the circle. As a matter of fact, they’ll testify that when she discovered TJ’s addiction she insisted he seek treatment and kicked him out of the house for Wylie’s sake. She continued to try to help him but never allowed him back into their home.”
“Told you,” Tara said, blushing in the doorway of his office. She knew she was intruding, this conversation not meant for her, but some vindication was nice. She wanted the pleasure of gloating just a little.
“Tara,” Reid said pointedly as he closed the documents on his desk abruptly. “You weren’t supposed to come in until ten this morning.”
“I thought I’d see if I could make a coffee run for you guys, considering I don’t have any other means of payment. But who cares about that? You heard the good news.”
“It’s out of context,” Reid cautioned, and judging by the look on Willow’s face she knew this wasn’t as cut and dry as she’d hoped.
“Willow just told you she’s basically one hundred percent sure I’m not a drug addict. Is that not enough for you?”
“I wanted a chance to talk with you in private about how this would affect the case.” Reid glanced over at Willow who took the hint to leave. Without another word she bowed out of the room gracefully.
When Willow left Tara felt her heart begin to race. Something felt wrong.
“Sit,” he said and his voice was far too gentle for her liking. He’d had no problem being stern with her every day since this started, why lighten up now? “Dr. Palanthry, the psychologist you met with, sent his report over today.”
“And?” she asked, recalling how kind the doctor had been to her. He was so understanding of how hard it was to be a single parent on a fixed income. He listened to her long drawn out stories of the hard work it took to make her life better and how she often felt like a failure.
“He believes you may have some level of postpartum depression. There’s a wide spectrum for the diagnosis but it’s important to our case. I want to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer me honestly.” He folded his arms and leaned in across his desk.
“Postpartum depression?” she asked, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger nervously. She’d heard of it before but didn’t know enough about it to be either worried or insulted.
“Leading up to the night Wylie was found in the parking lot alone, how were you feeling?” He glared at her so earnestly it was making her mad. Where was all this newfound empathy coming from?
“I was fine,” she snapped. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about depression, I’ll admit that, but I think I was doing all right.”
“Your card was declined at the supermarket,” he said. “You were down to your last thirty dollars.”
The way he read the facts off the sheet of paper in front of him was grating on her. It was like being dissected rather than talked to.
“I put some groceries back. It’s not the first time that happened. We always make do. Wylie never goes without if that’s what you’re implying.”
“It’s not,” he said, raising his hands up disarmingly. “Willow was able to get a copy of the footage from the supermarket. Wylie seemed upset. He was crying; you had to carry him while you pushed the shopping cart.”
“It was too late to have him out grocery shopping, but it was the best I could do that day. He was tired, that’s why he was crying. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Does he throw a lot of tantrums? I see he has history of ear infections. Those can be really difficult to manage. Kids don’t sleep well when they have those, right?” He ran a finger across the paper in front of him, making sure he was getting all his talking points right. It was patronizing, considering how little he knew about children. How little he knew about her child specifically.
“Reid,” she asserted, raising her brows nearly to her hairline. “Stop with the lawyer nonsense and just talk to me. What are you trying to get at?”
“Did you leave Wylie there because you needed a break? Was it just too much?” His hands came together in praying fashion, laced fingers resting on his desk, trying to appear casual.
“What?” she asked, snorting out a laugh. “You think I just abandoned my son because he was tired and crying. If that was the case, I’d have done it long before that. What’s your logic here? I was going for a walk around the block and accidently got high? I promise, Willow is on the right track. I’m not an addict, and my son throwing a tantrum isn’t grounds for me to just leave him.”
“Were you filled with despair that night?” he asked, boring holes through her skin with his intense stare. His eyes danced all around her face, waiting for her to flinch. “I want to argue that you were overwhelmed
, alone, and suffered a temporary lapse in mental stability.” The flare of his nostrils and the deep breath he drew in made her heart leap with fear. He hadn’t had a problem saying what was on his mind this entire time and now suddenly he struggled. “I want to argue that you were trying to end your life that night.”
Tara could see now why he didn’t want to say it. “I don’t know what to do with this anymore, Reid,” she said, slapping a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what you want from me. It’s like everyone is claiming to know me better than I know myself. I don’t remember that night after leaving the supermarket. It’s just blank.”
“Which may actually help your case. Willow has been cataloging you day in and day out, and any jury would be sympathetic to how hard you’ve been working and not getting anywhere.”
“Not getting anywhere?” she asked poignantly, the corners of her eyes stinging with the threat of tears and the lump in her throat getting too big to swallow. “I know my life doesn’t look glamorous. I’m not a high-powered defense attorney. But Wylie and I are happy.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied, quickly trying to take the punch out of his words. “Listen to me, Tara. I can present this new information to the judge and the district attorney. There’s a chance the charges can be reduced. You could be back with your son much quicker this way. Misdemeanor child endangerment is easier to overcome in civil or family court because it doesn’t involve the same level of intent or malicious neglect. It’s for people who make mistakes, who need help and seek it. We need to create some checkpoints, some mental health intervention and a support system that’s sustainable for you. But this could change everything. Think about Wylie.”
“You want me to say I tried to kill myself?” she asked, her words broken with emotion. “I don’t think I can do that. I can’t go there and lie.”
“You can’t say it’s a lie,” he cut in. “You admit you don’t remember what happened that night. If the prosecutor can’t find any evidence of habitual drug use, then what other explanation is there? They’ll know they can’t prove their case, and they’ll back the charges down. Isn’t that worth it?”
“Worth saying I’m suicidal?” Tara cupped her hands over her mouth, the word seeming too bitter and unsavory to let out again.
“Better than being a drug addict,” he argued, his voice raising a few octaves. “You have no idea how lucky you are that Willow stumbled upon this. Just think about it for a minute before you shoot it down completely.”
She bit at her lip to force herself to do what Reid was asking. “What would we do next if I say what you want me to say?”
A smile accompanied by a look of relief cascaded over Reid’s face. “We’re about to enter the discovery stage of the trial now that the arraignment is over. That means the prosecutor has to share information and evidence they’ve gathered.”
“Everything?” she asked, feeling like she was about to be stripped bare and paraded through the court when the day came.
“By law it’s any information reasonably calculated to lead to admissible evidence. We’ll get a good idea of what they intend to do in court, who they’ll call as witnesses. Once we have that information I think we should present this new evidence and petition the court to reduce the charges.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” a small and unfamiliar voice called from behind Tara. “This was just delivered,” a girl said as she handed an envelope over to Tara who took it, assuming this was some kind of mistake.
“It’s for me?” she asked, but the girl was gone before she had the question fully formed.
“That’s my assistant, Elise. She’s kind of skittish. Apparently I don’t give off a real warm and fuzzy feel as a boss. She’s always afraid to knock on the door.”
When Tara read her name across the front of the envelope she flipped it and peeled it open. “It’s a request for me to relinquish my legal rights as a parent and allow the adoption of Wylie by the Oldens. They have a lawyer.” She handed the paper over to Reid and hoped he’d tell her to rip this up and forget about it. It wasn’t time for that yet. She wasn’t ready.
“Damn,” he muttered, slapping the document down on his desk.
“What?” she asked in a panic. “Can they really do this?”
“There are a lot of options for grandparents looking to assist in the care of a grandchild while the parent may have some difficulties. They can request temporary custody. If they’re concerned about being able to make medical decisions for the child, they can up the stakes and seek guardianship. If that’s granted the parent cannot seek custody again without petitioning the court. But they’ve gone right to adoption. They’d become Wylie’s permanent legal parents and you’d be unable to ever request custody down the road. It’s a lofty request and most family judges would never even consider this.”
“They are a powerful family in this community,” Tara said anxiously, biting at her nails. “Maybe they are pulling some strings or something. I know the head of their church is very influential.”
“The sooner we can close this criminal case the better. I’ll draft up a response to this request, and that will initiate a hearing.”
“We’d go to civil court? We’re not ready for that are we?”
“I don’t really handle cases like this,” he said, reading the paper again. “But let’s cross that bridge when we get there. All we can do is focus on getting these charges reduced.”
“I need some time to think about what you said,” she sighed, raising a hand as if to stop him from making any assumptions. Tara hadn’t decided anything yet. “I just need to process.”
Chapter 14
It had been three days since Tara had been informed about TJ’s overdose and reality was still eluding her. She’d been holding out hope over the last few months that he could get clean and come home. This half-life she and Wylie had been living would be a thing of the past. But now as the alarm by her bed blared and the darkness of the early morning hours taunted her, she knew her fate was sealed. There would be no fixing what was broken.
Turning off the alarm, she rolled toward Wylie and lifted his tiny fingers to her lips. Like every morning she tried to kiss him awake gently to ease him into a day that would be anything but easy once they were up.
“Pumpkin,” she whispered in his ear, “we have to get the newspapers to deliver.” Her pillow was still wet from tears, but her eyes were dry. There was no time to mourn or sulk. The fridge needed to be filled with food and the electric bill needed to be paid.
Wylie’s eyes were closed but he smiled as she kissed her way up his plump little arm. “We’re going to be all right,” she promised him, even though he had no idea of the magnitude of their daunting situation.
“Mumumum,” he babbled, pulling her hair to yank her closer to him. She kissed his smile and laughed at the way he tugged at her hair again.
A second later he was snoring again, swept up by darkness and the need for a few more minutes of rest. She could understand. It was all she wanted too. Tara contemplated what would happen if she pulled the blanket over their heads and shut the world out. No work. No running around. They’d grab some stuffed animals and hide here as long as they could. Let someone else worry about the future. Let someone else deal with reality.
There are some things you know, but until you let your mind say them fully you have hope of ignoring them. TJ was the lucky one, Tara admitted to herself. She was the one who would have to wake early every morning, comfort Wylie every time he was sick, and find a way to keep going on her own.
“Mumumum,” Wylie whispered again, lost somewhere between dreams and waking.
“Hey pumpkin,” she said, kissing him again on his cheek. Maybe TJ was free of all the pain and the endless work, but he was also missing these moments of joy. “Mom’s here. I’ll never leave you. No matter how hard it gets. You will always have me.”
Wyllie’s little eyes popped open and he squealed a laugh that triggered a smile she couldn’t h
old back, no matter how sad she was.
“It’s me and you kid,” she whispered into his curls as she lifted him from the bed. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 15
“You can’t claim your son is all you want,” Reid said as he circled the room like a vulture. His voice had a razor edge to it, and Tara looked worried but not deterred. That was the problem.
“He is,” she argued, looking like she might stand but staying put as he closed in on her. “I want my son back, but I’m not willing to lie to get him. It’ll blow up in the end; I know it.”
“We already established that with your memory loss of the moments leading up to the event there is no way to say this is a lie. You can’t remember your state of mind that night. It’s a reasonable assumption, considering the circumstances, and it’s your best shot. Willow, please tell her. Bond over the mom stuff or whatever, but tell her.”
“Legally—” Willow started, but Tara boldly cut her off.
“I fully understand the legal benefits of me saying I snapped and walked away from my child that night. But I know my state of mind. If I were going to kill myself there would have been days, much harder days than that, for me to have done it. Nothing would be worth leaving Wylie there. I am all he has, and I would not check out on him. I just wouldn’t.”
“What do you want me to do?” Reid asked, tossing his hands up. “We’ve gotten most of the information from the prosecution regarding their case against you. It’s cut and dry. They’ve got you leaving the store with Wylie, then the witnesses and timeline outlined in the police report.”
“Where’s their proof that I’m a drug addict? Where’s their proof of what happened that night?”
He reached for her arm, slid her sleeve up forcefully and pointed to the bruise where the needle had been. “That’s all they are going to need. That’s all that twelve of your peers is going to care about. I’m not trying to prove you didn’t get high; I’m trying to tell them why. I’m trying to give them a reason to understand the behavior. It goes to motive.”
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