Mike stands, and from the dark glare on his face, and his tone of voice, I can tell he’s in full-on battle mode, too. “Judges don’t like it when parents threaten to make false allegations of sexual abuse in a custody situation. In fact, they tend to take it very seriously and usually impose some sort of sanctions against the parent who tries it.”
She glares at me. “I fucking hate you. Biggest mistake of my life was marrying you. I knew you’d be a pain in my ass. Just knew it. I felt sorry for you. Last time I do that.”
I shrug again, letting the verbal barbs roll off me instead of digging in like they would in the past. “I’ve let you walk all over me long enough. It stops today. No one’s forcing you to sign anything. Sign it or don’t, but there are consequences to actions, and it’s long since time you started facing consequences for your bullshit. I stopped caring what you think of me when you threatened me and my family.”
Jerilyn scoffs. “Your family? Are you serious? You’re mooching off your friends, who are apparently idiots.”
“They’ve been in my life longer than you,” I say, bristling. “And yeah, family. Just because you were raised by a couple of narcissistic psychopaths and it made you incapable of having trust in anyone, or holding a satisfying emotional relationship, doesn’t mean there aren’t good, kind people out there.”
It’s not clear to me if she doesn’t realize or just doesn’t care that Lucas is filming this from where he’s now standing in the corner of the office, in plain sight, with his phone up.
“I knew I should’ve got an abortion,” she spits at me.
I don’t give her the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, I glare at her in return. Now I’ve got another piece of evidence I can use against her if she ever tries to show her ass again. “Best favor you ever did me, beyond having Katie, was to give me a divorce.” I nod toward the papers in her hands. “You signing them? Or is Mike going to file the motion? Thought you were worried about your image?”
I watch the way her fist clenches around the pen and wonder if she’s thinking about trying to stab me with it. Because she damn sure looks pissed off enough to try.
Let her try. I’ll put her ass in jail. I seriously do not care anymore.
No, seriously, I don’t. Because she lost what infinitesimal sympathy still remained in me for her when she threatened Lucas, Caine, and Arlo.
How sad is it that, until she went that one step too far, I did actually give the briefest of thoughts to caving in to her just to make her go away?
No, I fucking was not about to move to California with her. Fuck that.
But, for one breath, I pro-conned in my head letting Katie go, meaning no more hiding my relationship with Arlo and Zoey.
Only one breath, though, before the stunned shock wore off and protective rage washed in, demanding I fight to the death, if necessary, to keep Katie here.
Zoey’s right. I really do need to learn how to fight for myself better. What kind of example am I setting for Katie if I don’t?
Worse, what kind of father would I be to allow Katie to move with Jerilyn to the other side of the country, where I couldn’t be there to be Katie’s safe refuge the way we were for Lucas?
Jerilyn was raised by shitty, awful people who did horrible things to her emotional well-being.
But she has a choice, as an adult, to not be shitty.
I’m breaking that cycle now. Before today, I thought Jerilyn would treat her daughter better than she’d been treated.
I was wrong.
Soooo wrong.
Hopefully, I can undo any emotional damage she’s done to Katie. Hopefully it’s not too late for my little girl.
“Just to let you know,” Mike adds. “If we’re forced to file a motion to fight for full custody, we’re also going for full child support. He’s being too nice to you. I wanted him to go for the jugular. As you see in there, as long as you sign the papers, and don’t file false allegations against him or anyone else, he’s waiving child support, he’ll pay for her health insurance—everything. You won’t be required to spend one penny.”
She finally signs the papers, all three copies, and slaps the pen onto the desk. “There. Take it down. Now.”
I pull out my phone. “Hold up, Lucas. I want overlap on this video so if we need to use it in court, she can’t claim there was a gap in coverage where stuff happened.” I start taping. “Mike?”
“That should be good enough,” he says after a few seconds.
“Okay, Lucas,” I tell him. “Go ahead and take the video down, please.”
He stops filming. A minute later, he nods. “All right. The posts are deleted from Twitter and Facebook.” He glares at her. “I love Katie. She’s my little sister. I would never hurt her. I’d put a beating on anyone who’d try to hurt her. So would Caine. How dare you use her like that. You’re a monster, lady. A real monster. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jerilyn glares at him. “Well, then,” she says in a syrupy-calm voice I know masks unadulterated contempt and hatred. “I guess you all get to be a happy little ‘family.’”
Bitch actually uses finger quotes.
Then she turns back to Mike. “Where’s my copy of the paperwork?”
I’ve already signed them.
“I need to see a copy of your ID, ma’am,” the AA says. “To notarize them.”
Jerilyn haughtily pulls out her wallet and waves it under her nose. “There.”
I’ll give the AA credit, she keeps her calm. “I need the ID number off your license, ma’am.”
Jerilyn drops her wallet on the desk. “There.”
Once the papers are notarized, Mike gives Jerilyn a copy. “When can my client have Katie’s things removed from your place?” he asks. “I would prefer today. In case you missed it, there is a stipulation in the papers you just signed stating you’ll allow removal of the items within forty-eight hours.”
I get yet another glare from her. “Better come get them tonight, if you want them at all. I’ll be moving next week. Seven to eight. Not a second later, or you won’t get a damn thing.”
She storms out before I can even ask if she wants to see Katie before she moves.
Fuck.
Talk about stone-cold.
Mike watches her leave. “On second thought,” he says, “I’ll meet the guys you have picking up her stuff and supervise it myself. I do not trust that woman. Gratis.”
I stop filming. “I’ll pay you for your time.”
He slowly shakes his head, still staring out the office door. “No, seriously. This one’s on me. I’ve seen a lot of bullshit, but that takes the cake.”
Mike finishes organizing everything and hands me my copies of the paperwork while I call Arlo.
He sounds like he’s ready to go to war. “Please tell me she’s going to be hurting by the time Mike finishes with her.”
I sit in one of the chairs in front of Mike’s desk and slump back. “It’s done. She signed the papers. We have full custody. He’ll walk over right now and file the paperwork. It’s an uncontested modification motion by both parties. No need for a hearing. All the judge has to do is sign.”
Arlo’s quiet for a moment. “No shit?”
“No shit. But we need a couple of guys to go get Katie’s stuff from Jerilyn’s tonight. She’s moving next week, she says. Can you ask Bailey and Art to go do it? I’ll even give them gas money, if they want. Mike said he’ll go and supervise it. They only have between seven and eight tonight to do it.”
“Um, if not them, someone. Stupid question—why not us?”
“Jerilyn threatened to file false charges against us. Mike’s right—we can’t go. We are not going over there and then she tries to trump up charges against us for something else.”
“Wait. What about Katie? Is Jerilyn going to see her again?”
“She didn’t ask, and I didn’t have time to offer. She stormed out of here.”
It’s all starting to hit me. Now I have to explain to my daughter
what a piece of shit her mother is.
Not in so many words, of course. Age-appropriately.
Fuck. Zoey’s a better mom to Katie than Jerilyn ever was. I mean, I knew Jerilyn wasn’t perfect, but who the hell is? I figured between the two of us Katie would have a halfway decent chance for a reasonably normal life.
I close my eyes and rub my forehead. I feel like I’m about to have a migraine myself. “Can you please co-ordinate hooking the guys up with Mike so he can directly communicate with them about the arrangements?” I ask Arlo.
“Yeah, sure. Of course. Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not.”
But I know with my family’s love around me, I will be, and so will Katie.
* * * *
I let Lucas drive us home from Mike’s office, because, quite honestly, I wasn’t feeling up to it. I sit there with my head tipped back, eyes closed, and feeling this weird, swirling mix of dreadful relief. Mike assures me that, yes, this is over, unless she decides to contest it. But if she does, that’ll take months, or longer, depending on how we drag things out.
No, I’m not required to let Katie visit, or even call Jerilyn now.
I pull out my phone and block Jerilyn on Facebook and Twitter. Most of what I post is set to friends-only, and we’re not friends there, but I hadn’t blocked her before now because I wanted that extra avenue of communication open in case I needed it. And, sometimes, I post pictures of Katie that she could see, in case she wanted copies of them.
Before I block her, though, I screenshot a few pictures she posted publicly on her profile over the past couple of weeks, of her and some guy, along with an update that corresponds with the date of her unexpected “work emergency” trip to LA a couple of weeks ago.
Pictures of her and the guy on a beach, along with a caption on one: Love my new boo!
Explains why she’s so anxious to move all of a sudden, and take Katie with her. She knew damn well I wouldn’t accept her offer to move with her. Except I would’ve been free babysitting if I had.
But she’s got to save face with her new guy and look like she’s Supermom.
My phone now literally has over a hundred unread alerts, from a combination of missed calls, texts, and Facebook Messenger PMs that have been sent to me.
I think I have a good guess why.
We find Zoey’s already home. She greets me at the door. “Haven’t said anything to her,” she whispers. “Just told her Daddy had to run some errands.”
I nod and Lucas continues inside, intercepting Katie to swing her up and around, making her squeal with laughter before he hugs her and sets her down.
Yes, he loves his little sister. And she absolutely is a little sister to him.
What Jerilyn wanted to do was…
Well, it was literally evil.
That’s not dysfunction—that’s criminal behavior.
I read the concern in Zoey’s eyes. “Are you all right?”
I slowly shake my head. “Everything. And a headache.”
She rises up onto her toes and brushes a kiss across my lips. “I’ll get you some Excedrin.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I hug Katie extra long and hard before I go change clothes. I guess now it won’t matter if we tell Katie the truth, will it?
No more hiding in plain sight, no more weighing every word, every action.
No more double life.
No more.
I take a deep breath and stare at myself in the mirror over my dresser. This morning, Lucas and I had a great time stumbling around the woods. I could imagine us making trails through there for Katie and getting bikes, having fun exploring, making her a little play fort, or even a tree house.
Where we want to position the house is in a natural clearing where we’ll only have to remove three tall pine trees that would pose a danger to the house in a hurricane. We want to leave as much of the woods intact around us as possible. We saw evidence of deer, and heard plenty of birds, saw lots of squirrels.
The property is bordered on three sides by similarly-sized properties that each have one house and are surrounded by pasture for horses or cows. The area is zoned agricultural, which means lower property taxes, since the property is unimproved. That’s how Arlo and Zoey have managed to keep it for so long and pay the taxes on it every year. It was part of a larger property that was a tree farm, at one point, and there are still evenly planted rows of pine trees at the front of the property.
Once we build, it’ll make the taxes go up, but we’re talking about also maybe planting more trees to keep the agricultural definition. Or maybe even getting a couple of pet steers or something.
I felt blissfully happy this morning, even as we were stumbling through the palmetto underbrush, swatting at mosquitoes, and trying to map the property by using GPS and a runner’s tracking app Lucas downloaded so we could better visualize the placement of the house and show it to Zoey and Arlo tonight.
This was my son and I doing this, together.
It felt natural and easy and like life had finally got sick of kicking me around.
Just to be drop-kicked into hell. Briefly, yes, but…
The rebound has given me emotional whiplash I’m going to need some time to process.
I emerge from the bedroom just to find Zoey walking up. She grabs my hand and pulls me into our bedroom, closing and locking the door behind us.
See, that’s something else I’m still trying to get used to. Referring to the guest room as “my” room.
Not referring to the master bedroom as “ours.” Not around Katie.
Except…
Now it doesn’t matter.
Zoey pulls me into her arms and holds me tightly. I don’t realize I’m crying until she guides me over to the end of the bed and we both sit as she holds me, rocks me, softly soothes me.
My emotions are all over the place. “What am I supposed to tell her?” I whisper.
She sadly sighs. “The truth. Mommy threatened to tell a really bad lie about you guys that could’ve gotten you into a lot of trouble, then she was going to move across the country where Katie wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.”
“I can’t tell her that.”
“Yes, you can. And you have to.” She makes me look her in the eyes. “The video has already been seen by some of the parents of her classmates. Lucas didn’t just tag Jerilyn’s employer—he tagged Katie’s school and the PTO, his school and their PTO, and others. And who he didn’t tag, others did.”
She pulls out her phone and shows me a series of Facebook screencaps from the post, taken just before Lucas deleted it. It’d been shared over fifty times, had been viewed over four hundred times, and had dozens of additional tags added to it by others.
The outraged comments roasting Jerilyn definitely tell a tale of the tide being in our favor and not hers.
Shit.
“It’s good that happened,” Zoey insists. “Community policing in action. Warning others about her bullshit. Good thing she’s moving, because her name’s now mud in this area.” She cups my face in her hands. “You have to tell Katie,” she gently says. “Better it comes from you, and better it happens tonight.”
We’ve had the stranger-danger and good-touch/bad-touch talks with Katie already. I started that two years ago, when she entered Pre-K. We’ve had talks about right and wrong, lying, respecting people, consent—all age-appropriate, of course.
The man who’s tried to be nice and keep things smooth and just get along with the narcissist is now at war with the enraged father and husband who wants to nuke the site from orbit and salt the land before it has a chance to cool.
In the middle of all of this is a little girl who just wants to grow up and be happy. Who deserves a calm, peaceful childhood.
Who didn’t ask to be born to a narcissist.
I slowly nod.
We emerge from the bedroom and return to the living room, where Lucas is already helping Katie with her homework. That’s when Arlo walks in.
“Perfect timing,” I tell him. Then, in a whisper, I add, “Film this.”
He nods and takes out his phone. I want proof of this so if Jerilyn is stupid enough to come back at me later, or tries to twist things around, I have a record of how I handled it.
“We need a family meeting,” I say once Arlo gives me the cue that he’s filming. I sit on the couch next to Katie. “We have to talk, sweetheart.”
She looks up at me. Thank god she’s got my brown eyes. “Am I in trouble, Daddy?”
“No. Absolutely not. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Arlo and Zoey stand on the other side of the coffee table and quietly watch. “Mommy, however, got caught doing something very, very wrong.”
Katie scowls. “What did she do?”
“You know how we’ve talked about lying?”
She gravely nods. “It’s bad.”
“And do you know how we’ve talked about what kind of touches are okay, and what touches aren’t? And how you are supposed to tell me or Aunt Zoey or Uncle Arlo or Mommy if someone tries to touch you in a bad way? How you can always scream no?”
She nods again.
There’s no way through this hell except full steam ahead. “Mommy threatened to get me, Lucas, and Uncle Arlo in very bad trouble by lying to the cops to say we touched you in a bad way.”
It takes her a moment to digest that, and we don’t interrupt her. “But you never did that.”
“I know. She was going to lie to the police and tell them that.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted to move away and take you with her so I’d never see you again. I told her she couldn’t do that, because then I’d never get to be with you.”
Fuck it. I pull out my phone and show her the video. The first one, taken outside the house by Lucas.
I’d rather not show her the second one for a whole host of reasons, but I’ll keep a copy of it just in case I ever need to do that very thing.
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