Minor Adjustments

by Rachael Renee Anderson

  “Hey.” Tess poked her head in Stella’s door. “A couple of us are going out for dinner. Want to come?”

  A thick fog seemed to surround Tess. What had she said?

  “What’s wrong?” Tess said.

  Through the fog, Stella managed to tell her friend about Justin’s visit. She needed someone with a clear head to tell her everything would be okay.

  “Do you think he’ll actually go through with it?” Tess asked.

  “Yes.” There was no doubt in Stella’s mind.

  “Well, we’ll fight it then. You’ll need someone to represent you in court, and I’m sure Gerald will serve as your barrister.”

  “It will take more than my word against Justin’s to keep a magistrate from awarding him custody. You know that. Unless I can prove otherwise, we both know judges favor the family—especially if Justin can fool the psychologist into thinking he’s a decent guy.”

  Stella dropped her head to her desk. “I feel ill. This can’t be happening. What am I going to do?”

  A hand covered hers. “No worries, love. We’ll find a way. In fact, we’ll make that nong wish he’d never fathered a child.”

  “Thanks, Tess.” Stella tried to smile.

  “Now enough wallowing. Come and get some grub with us. Everyone’s waiting.”

  “Another night?” Stella was in no mood to socialize. She needed time to think.

  A sympathetic wave and Tess was gone.

  More than ever, Stella needed someone. She couldn’t fight Justin alone. Sure Tess and Gerald would be on her side, working side by side, but Stella needed more than the law. She needed a crutch. Someone to lean on.

  She needed Devon.

  ⇐ ⇑ ⇒

  It had been over six weeks since Devon had watched Stella drive away. Six long weeks. Although she’d still talked to Ryan through the webcam once a week, it had been Lydia, not Devon, who’d sat beside Ryan. Devon had needed time to think. Time away from Stella to mull over things and figure out what he wanted to do.

  And now, six weeks later, he’d finally decided. Tonight he would call Stella.

  The opening notes of “Danger Zone” burst from his phone, and Devon laughed at the coincidence. Her timing couldn’t be better.

  “Stella?” he answered. “I’m so glad you called.

  “You are?”

  “I was actually planning on calling you tonight after Ryan went to bed.”

  “Oh. Well I need to talk to you too. It’s important.” Her voice sounded weak and shaky.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No,” Stella said. “No, it’s not.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Ryan.” Devon could barely hear her. “His father is going to try and take him away from you.”

  “His father?” Devon felt like he’d entered a surreal universe. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t know who the father was. I have his birth certificate to prove it.”

  “Known or unknown, everyone has a father,” Stella said.

  “So you’re telling me that some guy walked in off the street claiming to be Ryan’s father and you believed him?”

  “He is Ryan’s father,” she said. “I’m almost positive.”

  “Did you do a DNA test?”

  “Not yet, but I don’t need one to know.”

  Her meaning was clear. “Are you saying you lied to me? All this time you’ve known who Ryan’s father was?”

  “I’m telling you Lindsay withheld information.”

  “Yeah, but if you know this guy’s the father, then you also know that she lied on the birth certificate, right?”

  “I was Lindsay’s friend, Devon, so no, she never flat-out told me Justin was the father—but only because I was her solicitor and she knew I’d be legally obligated to search for him. Yes, I had a good idea who he was, but I wasn’t about to pry it out of her. Lindsay stuck to the story that the father was a one-night stand. That’s why she wrote ‘unknown’ on the birth certificate.”

  A pit settled in Devon’s stomach. “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Ryan has his eyes. The resemblance is too close to doubt.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “I probably should have,” Stella said. “But it didn’t matter at the time.”

  “It didn’t matter?” he asked. “For crying out loud, Stella. Ever since I’ve met you it’s been one secret after another. Haven’t you ever heard of honesty and trust?”

  “I never lied to you.”

  “You just didn’t tell me the whole truth.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

  Devon raked his fingers through his hair, fighting for a calm he didn’t feel. “So what’s going to happen now?”

  “Justin will have to file for an appeal to have the parenting orders varied. Then the Family or Federal Court will review the situation and a magistrate will ultimately decide whether or not Ryan belongs with you . . . or with Justin.”

  “But I’m legally listed as Ryan’s guardian.”

  “It can be overturned,” Stella said. “If it was anyone but the father fighting this, the court would have no reason to remove him from your care. But a father changes everything—from the birth certificate to your guardianship.”

  “Okay, so if he files the appeal, what then?”

  “In two to four months, you’ll hear from an ICL—an independent children’s lawyer who will be appointed to act on Ryan’s behalf. You’ll be required to bring Ryan back to Australia and the ICL will commission a child psychologist to interview both you and Justin and then report back.”

  “Report back on what?”

  “Motivations to care for Ryan, parenting capacities, deficits in parenting skills, bonding, and attachment. They will also take into account the long- and short-term psychological impacts of Ryan being removed from your care at this stage of life.”

  That sounded promising. Better than anything else she’d said. “Well, that’s good, right? The court wouldn’t want to take Ryan away from someone who has been his guardian for nearly a year.”

  Silence. Not good.

  “Right, Stella?”

  “That’s the hope. But it’s been my experience that in situations such as these, unless the parent is proven incompetent, they usually get custody. In Australia, we place a great value on families, so the courts prefer to keep children in a home with their biological families.”

  “You’re telling me they could take Ryan away from me just like that?”

  “Yes,” Stella said. “If the magistrate rules in Justin’s favor, a common scenario would be for the psychologist to suggest a gradual increase in contact with the father—at least until familiarity and trust is built. Then a graduated move to the father.”

  “But we live in America.”

  “I know. Which is why the magistrate might give Justin full custody right away.”

  This conversation was going from bad to worse. She was making it sound as though there was no hope at all. “But you said Lindsay only dated drunks. Is this guy one of them?”

  “Yeah. But Justin was never physically abusive like some of the guys Lindsay hung around. It was more emotional. He lost his temper and yelled at her all the time. He was also selfish and lazy, and expected Lindsay to support him.”

  “Why would a judge grant custody to someone like that?”

  “The problem is that Justin knows how to charm and deceive most people into thinking he’s better than what he really is. At least for a while. Yes, he was emotionally abusive to Lindsay, but I can’t prove that—especially not now that she’s gone. And unless Justin has done something that’s been documented somewhere, our only argument is that he’s lazy and looking for a way to live off the government.”

  “Live off the government? What are you talking about?”

  “Justin knows that as a single parent, he can get money from Centrelink—a government-funded agency that assists tho
se in need. They’ve tightened the reins over the years on single adults, but single parents are a different story. It’s easier for them to receive help because they have a child or children to support.”

  “Are you telling me Justin is doing this for some welfare check?” Devon practically shouted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Afraid not. When he and Lindsay were together, Justin faked an injury for the compo payments. He had no problem collecting government money back then, so why would it be any different now?”

  If what she said was true, if Justin really placed a value on some government check, then there was hope. Maybe Devon could end it all before it began. “If that’s true, why can’t I offer Justin enough money to make him back off?”

  “No, I don’t want you to do that,” Stella said. “That’s not the answer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you do, Justin will be able to puppeteer you any way he chooses. There will be nothing to stop him from threatening you again.”

  The sick feeling returned to Devon’s gut. “Stella, there has to be some way we can fight this. I’m not about to stand around and let Ryan walk out of my life and into Justin’s. Don’t ask me to do that.”

  “I would never ask you to do that,” she said. “And we will fight—in every way that we can. I promise.”

  “How? You just said we have no case.”

  “As soon as we hear that Justin has officially appealed, we’ll hire a private investigator to dig into his life and hopefully find some witnesses to testify about his emotionally abusive personality. We’ll also subpoena police and hospital records to see if he’s ever been charged with anything, or if he’s ever been admitted for mental health problems. Hopefully he’s done something in the last five years that we can take to court.”

  “Tell me what I can do.” Devon needed something, anything. The thought of sitting around and waiting held no appeal.

  “There’s nothing you can do—especially from America.”

  “Then I’ll get us on the first flight out there.”

  “No,” Stella said. “Justin may not even appeal the case, and even if he does, there’s really nothing you could do from here either. As your legal advisors, Gerald and I will need to handle everything. Besides, I don’t want you to uproot Ryan until you have to. It’ll be best if you keep him in a regular routine for as long as you can.”

  “Stella, there has to be something I can do. I can’t just sit around here waiting and worrying. Please. Give me something.”

  “You can pray,” she said softly. “And be there for me when I need you.”

  “Always.”

  ⇐ ⇑ ⇒

  Stella dropped the phone to her desk and swallowed the dread in her throat, forcing her mind to think like a solicitor. Her fingers tap danced against the wood of her desk. Would Justin really go through with the appeal?

  Yes.

  The determination in his eyes alone would have convinced her. But then there was that barrister he’d already hired. Well, not “hired” exactly—not if they’d taken on the case pro bono. Stella’s fingers stilled. Exactly who had Justin found to represent him? Or had that all been a lie? Stella could never tell with Justin.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Justin greeted Janelle Renning with a flashing smile. “G’day. I’m Justin Wells. We spoke on the phone last week.”

  Janelle had drab brown hair, freckles, and eyes that looked too small for her face. When she peered over the rim of her reading glasses, a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

  “Yes, I remember. Have a seat, please.” She gestured to a padded armchair. “What can I do for you?”

  With his dark hair and eyes, Justin knew most women found him attractive. People often compared him to a younger Ben Affleck, and it was the reason he’d chosen a young, female barrister. Her homely appearance was an added bonus. Yeah. This meeting would go exactly as planned.

  Justin had lied to Stella about the barrister agreeing to work pro bono. Janelle hadn’t—at least not yet. But in the face of Stella’s obvious hatred and accusation, Justin hadn’t been able to resist. And it had been worth it. Even if Janelle didn’t agree to represent him, the fear in Stella’s eyes would make him smile the rest of the day.

  Justin settled in the chair and replaced his smile with a look of concern. “It’s my son.” He let the words settle a bit before continuing. “You see, my ex-girlfriend was vindictive and emotionally unstable, at least toward the end of our relationship. When I told Lindsay she needed help, she lost it and basically threw me out. After that, she wouldn’t answer my calls or speak to me, so I finally gave up and left for good.”

  Janelle watched with interested eyes. So far, so good.

  He cleared his throat. “A few weeks ago I ran into an old friend of Lindsay’s and found out some surprising things. Unbeknownst to me, she was pregnant when I left—with my son.”

  Janelle picked up a pencil and scribbled something on a paper. “We’ll have to run a DNA test to be sure.”

  “I understand, but I know I’m right.”

  “How old is the boy now?”

  “He has to be close to five.”

  “Where is Lindsay?”

  “Dead.”

  Janelle’s eyes flew to his. “Dead?”

  Justin nodded and dropped his gaze, as if downcast. “Or so I’ve been told. According to her friend, she was diagnosed with a terminal illness and died shortly after. Lindsay left my son to some American without even telling me. I’m hoping you can help me discover where he is and help me get him back. It’s not right what she did.”

  Janelle offered a sympathetic look. “No, it’s not. And if this child really is yours, and what you told me is true, you could have a strong case.”

  “That’s really good to hear.” Justin forced a pained look to his face. “I have to be honest, though, and tell you that I can’t afford you—at least not right now. I lost my job months ago and haven’t been able to find work again.” His eyes implored her. “Please help me. Five years have already been wasted, and I can’t stand the thought of another year going by without me knowing my son. I want him back.”

  Janelle hesitated, but only briefly. “Well, you’re in luck. I haven’t taken on a pro bono case in a while and I suppose it’s about time I did.”

  With a sigh of relief, Justin placed his hand over hers. “Thank you, Ms. Renning. I knew you were a special person just by looking at you.”

  Janelle smiled as she rifled through a desk drawer and pulled out some paperwork. “Well, let’s get going. I only have thirty minutes until my next appointment.”

  “Of course.” Justin accepted the papers. “I also need to warn you that the last few years have been difficult ones. After Lindsay broke up with me, I was heartbroken and became clinically depressed. Since then, I’ve been in and out of work, my credit cards are maxed out, and . . . I even considered taking my life at one point,” he said, forcing his voice to shake.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, you poor thing.”

  Molding his features into a mask of shame, Justin said, “If you dig into my past, it’s not going to be pretty. But finding out about my son has given me something to hope for—a reason to live again. Please don’t let the courts keep him from me any longer. He’s all I have left.”

  Janelle leaned across the desk and touched his arm. “You’ve come to the right place. I’m an excellent barrister, and I promise to do whatever I can to get you your son back.”

  It had been almost too easy. But Justin coerced a few tears to his eyes anyway. “How can I ever thank you? You’re an answer to my prayers.”

  Janelle smiled, probably congratulating herself on her wondrous act of service.

  An hour later, Justin walked out of the law office sporting a grin. Everything had worked out as planned. Janelle would officially file the appeal that week and all he needed to do was continue to act like a despondent father, find a decent temporary job, and clean up his apart
ment. Janelle would take care of the rest.

  For free.

  Justin passed by a pub and smiled. In a few more months he’d be able to spend his nights there once again. Days too, if he wanted.

  He loved living off the government.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Almost a year to the day of his last visit, Devon again rode the train through Sydney’s busy streets, gripping Ryan’s little hand in his own and hoping it wouldn’t be his last trip. He wanted a reason to return, and if Ryan were no longer his . . .

  Waiting and worrying. That had become his life during the past few months. And when Devon had finally heard from the Independent Children’s Lawyer, he’d considered ignoring the summons and taking Ryan far away. Someplace no one would ever find him.

  But that wasn’t the answer, so there was no choice but to leave for Australia and let the worry fester. What would happen? How would it end? When would it all be over?

  In two weeks, Ryan would meet his biological father. Two weeks and the psychologist would begin his rounds of interviews and observations. Devon’s skin crawled at the idea of Ryan spending time with Justin, but there was nothing he could do.

  Nothing he could do about any of it.

  “Ow, you’re hurting me,” Ryan said, trying to pull his hand free.

  Devon loosened his grip. “I’m sorry, champ. I’m just excited to see Stella again. Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” There was that dimple. The one that charmed Devon every day.

  The train reached Stella’s stop, and they hopped off. When they reached her flat, Devon hesitated in front of the painted steel door. What would he find on the other side? Stella had sounded optimistic over the phone, but he knew better. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, there was always fear and worry. It unnerved him.

  Devon sucked in a breath and knocked.

  Seconds later, the door flew open, and there stood Stella, with her bright blue eyes, looking as gorgeous as ever in that baseball cap.

  “I’ve missed you so much.” Stella lifted Ryan off the floor and hugged him tight. “When did you get so big? I can barely pick you up anymore.”