Fighting Our Way

by Abigail Davies

  I tell Tris, “One second,” before speaking to Dad. “Did you book the flights yet?”

  “Was gonna book them now, sweetheart.”

  “Who’s that?” Tris asks, his voice a little deeper.

  “It’s my dad,” I answer Tris while pulling my laptop from beside the sofa.

  “What’s going on?” Dad asks.

  “I need to go back tonight or early in the morning.”

  “I can’t get out there until tomorrow night at the earliest, I always have the early shift on Mondays.” I nod, knowing that means he’ll get off about three.

  “See what time the flights are,” I tell Dad, logging into my computer and turning it to face him.

  Stepping a couple of feet away, I talk to Tris again. “Dad’s just looking at flights now.”

  “I can book them,” Tris says, the sound of keys tapping in the background.

  “No.” I’m shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “I’ve got it cove—”

  “There’s a flight at six in the morning, it’ll get you there for about eight thirty,” Dad announces. “I can get one at five and will be there about seven thirty.” He looks at me, his eyes flashing with concern. “Will you be okay for that long on your own until I get there?”

  My gut instinct is screaming at me I won’t, but the frantic tone of Tris’s voice tells me I have to do this. He needs me and I can’t let him down.

  “Book them,” I say to Dad.

  “Are you sure?” he asks.

  I nod and talk down the cell again. “I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, A.”

  “You’re welcome.” I take a breath again, straightening my back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I end the call and walk over to Dad, sitting on the arm of the sofa. His chocolate-brown eyes focus on me, apprehension shining bright as his hand covers mine, squeezing softly.

  Smiling in reassurance, I watch as he books the tickets.

  “I don’t know about this,” Dad warns when I stand up to start packing.

  “It’ll be fine,” I say, walking out of the living room.

  It will be—I hope—after all, what can happen in the thirteen hours I’ll be there without him?

  The muscles in my legs ache and my lungs burn as I push myself to run faster around the lake. To forget about Amelia not answering the door to us, I threw myself into helping Tris and Harm with finding Frankie.

  I finally found him last night and it’s just a case of appealing in front of a judge to ask for permission for them to visit him while we get the ball rolling on their adoption, or at least that’s what Kayla—a lawyer from my firm—has told me.

  I spent the morning making calls for a favor to get us an emergency appeal in front of a judge. It’s set up for tomorrow so I’m hoping Tris figures out his childcare situation.

  “Tomorrow? Wow. That’s quick.”

  “It’s just an appeal for you to be able to visit him and I can’t promise the results will be in your favor, but this will look good for the adoption records. It’ll show that you’re serious.”

  “Crap, the kids.”

  “Can your mom not look after them?”

  “She’s in Japan with Edward and Harm’s mom is in Florida with friends until tomorrow night.”

  My feet pound on the ground and I pull in shallow breaths as I run through the wooded area back toward my house.

  Nearing the patio, I slow down to a jog, stretching off before walking over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

  I walk into the living room, finding Maya curled up on the sofa watching a movie, and I steal a handful of popcorn

  “Hey!”

  I shrug. “What? It is mine.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve just stuck your sweaty hands in my bowl! Now it’s all contaminated!”

  I raise a brow and swish my hands through it.

  She places it on the sofa beside her with a scoff. “You’re disgusting!”

  I place another handful in my mouth and walk toward the hallway more than ready to take a shower. Maya was right: I’m a sweaty mess.

  “Oh, Nate, someone came to the house for you.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Who?”

  She shrugs and turns around in her seat, her arms crossed over the back of the sofa. “A woman.”

  My muscles tighten up at the thought that it might’ve been Amelia and I missed her, but then Maya would’ve known it was Amelia, wouldn’t she? “And you didn’t get a name?” I ask casually.

  “She didn’t give me one. After I told her you went out for a run she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

  Frustrated, I ask, “Well what did she look like?”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “I didn’t get a good look at her but I know she had brown hair and was old… like you.”

  I ignore her backhanded comment. “So it wasn’t anyone you’ve met before?”

  She shakes her head and I know it definitely wasn’t Amelia, her words dousing my hope.

  “Alright, thanks.” I try and think of who I know that’s a brunette but it’s fruitless because it could’ve been anyone. If it’s important, they’ll call or come back.

  I peel off my sneakers, socks, and t-shirt before stepping into the shower I’ve let warm up. The water feels amazing on my muscles and I know I need to get out before I get too relaxed to make dinner and watch a movie with Maya.

  An hour later, I’m in a food coma on the sofa watching one of Maya’s sappy movie choices—again—while fighting to keep my eyes open. I mustn't have fought for long because the next thing I know I’m being awoken with a phone call telling me the court time has been brought forward by three hours which gives me exactly two hours to get ready, pick up Tris and Harm, and make our way to the courthouse.

  After hanging up the phone, I immediately call Tris, telling him to be ready for me to pick them up. It’s a good thing I prepared him for this eventuality because Harm’s mom has come back from her trip early so she’ll be on her way before taking them to the studio.

  Assured everyone will be ready in time, I throw on a charcoal-gray suit with a white shirt and navy-blue tie before scribbling Maya a note to apologize for working on my week off. I throw a few bills on top of the note on the kitchen island and tell her to actually get out of the house and do something, although I know she has friends coming over tomorrow—which I’m dreading.

  I make one last check that I have all the papers I’ve accumulated over the space of the last few days and open the garage door.

  Whatever the outcome today, I know we’re on the right path for this child to end up with Tris and Harm. I couldn’t think of better people for him to end up with.

  The plane lands and my stomach dips. Coming back here feels like I’ve just walked along the street on a sunny day and it’s all of a sudden started to rain—an impending storm brewing.

  I follow the flow of people as they walk off the plane and through the tunnel, toward the main part of the bustling airport. Keeping my head down, I pull my carry-on bag along with me and take a cab back to my apartment.

  The whole drive there I feel like I’m being watched, a feeling I haven’t missed in the slightest since I’ve been away at my parents’. I don’t bother to look around when I get out of the cab as it pulls up to my apartment block because I know she’s there.

  I can feel her eyes trailing over me, the little hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as I head inside the building. Wrinkling my nose up at the smell of urine and dirt that hits me in the face like a three-hundred-pound gorilla as I open the main door, I try to walk as fast as I can up to my apartment, my eyes burning from the stench.

  Pushing inside, I slam the door behind me before I close my eyes and take a breath of clean air. But when I open them and look around, I know instinctively that someone has been here.

  To any normal person they wouldn’t notice it, but I see how a few of my vinyl records aren’t in the right place or in the right order. I see th
e bedroom door that’s open a crack when I made sure to close it. But the biggest tell of all is the large window that isn’t fully closed.

  Someone broke in.

  It has to be her because no one else would have come in here and not taken anything. What is it she’s searching for? I don’t have anything that she could want.

  Pushing off the door, I walk farther inside, leaving my bag and searching the whole place. I know she’s not in here now, but what if she’s planted something? What if this is the end of her grand scheme that she’s been toying with for these last few months?

  My cell pings, and when I pull it out, I read the text from my mom.

  Mom: Did you get back okay?

  Amelia: Yeah. I’ve just come home but… she’s been here, Mom.

  Mom: Call Dad and let him know right now.

  I swallow, my trembling fingers swiping on the screen as I bring up my dad’s cell number.

  My feet work on automatic, and I’m pulling the window up and stepping out onto the makeshift balcony before I know what I’m doing. My gaze wanders over to the parking lot and as soon as my gaze meet hers, she drives away.

  Each and every time I’ve seen her she’s been driving a different car—this one a small black SUV.

  I watch as she turns the corner and then click the green call button, listening to the ringing tone as I sit down on one of the metal steps.

  “Sheriff—”

  “Dad,” I breathe out.

  “Sweetheart.” There’s a beat of silence. “Everything okay?”

  “Mom told me to call you; she’s been here.”

  “Fuck,” he murmurs. “I’ve put the feelers out and a couple of detectives are gonna meet us at your apartment tonight.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, feeling like the child I was a decade ago.

  “I land at seven thirty so I should be at your apartment by eight.”

  Nodding, I clear my throat. “I’ll see you then.”

  I’m about to disconnect the call when he says, “You need to tell Tristan. Go to his house earlier, you’re safer there than in your apartment.”

  “I will,” I tell him, looking down at the watch on my wrist and seeing it’s only ten in the morning. “I’m going to wash up and get changed and then I’ll head over there.”

  “I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

  “See you tonight.”

  Ending the call, I lean back, the step above me on the fire escape digging into my back, but I don’t mind the small bite of pain, I relish in it because it makes me feel like I’m not floating away.

  My mind wanders, trying to work out the best way I can tell Tris. I know I need to tell Nate, too, and I can’t help but think it would be much easier to tell them together. If they are both in the same room then I only have to go over it once.

  But the thought of seeing Nate after ignoring him makes butterflies flutter in my stomach but also has my hands sweating in panic.

  What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if all of the drama is too much and he won’t see me the same? What if… What if he thinks I did it?

  A lump builds in my throat and the burning sensation of tears tickles my nose. If I disappeared then I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this, but I can’t do that again. This time is different: not only do I have a family to protect, but I can’t walk away from Nate. I’ve been missing him so much and all I want is to scroll down to his name, press call, and hear his voice on the other end of the line. But I know it’s too late to do that now.

  Steeling myself, I stand up, taking a quick look at my watch and realizing I’ve been sitting out here for nearly two hours, caught in my own thoughts.

  I grab a shower, changing into a pair of light-blue jeans and a white tank top before slipping on my Converse and hooking my purse over my shoulder on the way out the door.

  By the time I’m on the road and to Tris’s, it’s one thirty so I should get there about two. I’ll be an hour earlier than I need to be, but that will give me time to hopefully talk to Tris before he leaves for court. I need to formulate a real plan to tell him… everything.

  The silence in the car is almost deafening, so I switch on the radio and listen to a song that’s been playing a lot recently before turning onto the road Tris’s house is on.

  I feel like a stranger as I come closer to his driveway, like I don’t belong here. This was my home for six years yet all it’s taken is a couple of weeks for me to feel like I’m an outsider looking in.

  The gravel crunches under my tires as I slowly drive along it, coming to a stop at the start of the fountain. My heart beats a wild rhythm at being back here. I keep my eyes trained forward, too afraid to look around in case she’s here watching me again.

  Turning the engine off, I grab my purse and hook it over my shoulder as I close the door behind me.

  The front of my Converse catches one of the small stones and it hits the bottom step leading to the door.

  I take a deep breath, putting my key in the door and placing my hand on the doorknob, preparing myself to go inside the house I once called home.

  “I know today wasn’t the result you wanted, but at least it shows you’re serious and willing to fight for him.”

  “I really wanted him to grant us permission to see him,” Harm replies from the back seat.

  “In due time, you will, but until then we need to file all your fostering paperwork. We can have these done and sent off by tonight.” I turn into Tris’s driveway, the gravel kicking up underneath the tires. “We can come up with a plan of action now that we know your rights.”

  “Which are diddly squat,” Harm states.

  “Stop being so negative, sunshine, it’s not like you,” Tris says before climbing out of the car with us behind him.

  She sighs. “I’m allowed to be a little disappointed, Tris.”

  I walk ahead of them, waiting at the door. Tris opens it and we all file into the kitchen, Harm switching on the coffee pot. “Coffee?”

  I shake my head. “Not for me, I’ll just take a bottle of water.” Tris throws me a bottle and I sit down at the dining table, papers in front of us. “Shall we start?”

  Harm holds up a finger to make us wait as her fingers fly over the screen of her cell. “Okay, now I’m done. I was just messaging my mom to bring the kids back.”

  “Shit!” We both turn our gazes to Tris who has his head in his hands before he glances at me. “Amelia will be on her way over.”

  “What?” The very mention of her name has me looking over at the pool house and my heart racing a mile a minute. “Here?”

  He pulls out his cell. “I called her last night when you told us about court. My mom is out of town with Edward so she couldn’t have the kids and Tilly wasn’t supposed to be here so I had no one else to call.”

  “She answered?”

  My hackles rise as he shakes his head. “Her mom answered the phone but she put her on and she agreed to come. Sounds like she’s been staying with them.”

  Her mom? So she wasn’t even at her apartment the whole time we were there? I feel stupid for pouring my heart out to her when she wasn’t even inside the damn apartment!

  “I’ll be two minutes, I’ll call and tell her not to bother since the court time was moved forward.”

  I watch his back, warring with myself as he stands up. “Wait—”

  The doorbell ringing stops me from telling him not to call her. It’s too soon for it to be Harm’s mom so it must be her.

  We all look at each other and Harm rolls her eyes. “I’ll get it then, shall I?”

  Tris walks after her and I can’t stop my feet from following, wanting to see Amelia’s face as she realizes I’m here, too. But as Harmony opens the door, my stomach drops because it’s not the face that I wanted to see standing there. Instead there’s a woman with stringy brown hair she’s tried to neatly curl, her mouth pursed before she spots us and lifts it into a crooked smile.

  “Can we help you?” Tris asks, standing in
front of Harm when the woman doesn’t say anything, examining each of us in turn.

  “It’s not what you can help me with, but what I can help you with,” she answers in a tone that isn’t one of a cold caller. In fact, she sounds quite pleased with herself.

  If it wasn’t for the way she’s leering at me, I’d walk back into the kitchen, but I find myself drawn to her even though I have no idea who she is.

  “And who might you be?” Harm asks, voicing my thoughts as she moves beside Tris, her arms folded across her chest.

  The woman pulls a ratty file out of her worn, leather bag and holds it in her hands like it contains the secrets of the universe. “My name is Phoebe, but who I am is of no significance. However, the information in this file is something I think all three of you will be interested to see.”

  Tris glances back at me with a “what the hell” expression on his face before he turns back around and starts to slowly shut the door. “I’m sure that’s true, but we’re very busy right—”

  “It’s about Amelia,” she splutters, and hearing her name come out of this woman’s mouth makes me feel sick.

  I step forward and push the door back open. “What did you say?”

  Her crooked smile turns into a full-on grin as she starts to tuck the file back into her bag. “If you’re not interested then…”

  I turn to look at Tris, wondering what’s going on. He shrugs with a frown on his face and sighs. “You have ten minutes.”

  She steps inside when we all step back, watching her like she’s going to pounce at any moment. Her body language doesn’t seem normal as I watch her follow Tris and Harm without looking around. I’m not a snob, but she doesn’t look like she comes from money and anyone walking into this house would be impressed, but she’s not. It’s almost like she’s been here before with the way she moves toward the kitchen. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s wrong but I notice she walks over to the table without looking around again.