I gasped. I was never a junkie, but how could he possibly know that insult would strike a blow?
“That’s right,” he gave an evil chuckle. “I know about your past, puta. I happened to drop by earlier and met a lovely woman who was leaving your house. Given she was so upset,” he paused, putting a hand to his chest, “and I’m such a gentleman, I had to calm her down. She had many choice things to say about both of you. You can imagine my concern when I learned a drug addict is caring for my nephew, and his father doesn’t provide him with proper discipline.
“Now, here’s how things will go. You’re going to let me see my nephew tonight. This weekend, I’ll pick him up to take him to see my mother. Neither one of you is going to say or do anything to stop it because you don’t want the complications that will occur if you don’t.”
“No,” Justin growled and drew himself up to his full height, “this is me telling you how this is going to go. You’re going to turn around and high-tail it out of here this minute, or I will bodily remove you from my property. I don’t care about your threats. You have no rights, and we won’t be blackmailed into doing what you want. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here.”
“Okay, puto,” Armando snickered again, “I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to do things peacefully.” With that he turned around, raising his arm with his middle finger extended and moved down the walk to his car.
Justin slammed the door, cursing under his breath. “Fucking bastard.”
“No, fucking Marina!” I was simmering. “You sure have a thing for vindictive bitches, don’t you, Justin?”
“I’m sorry, Peaches. I know this is on me. I never should have opened my mouth and told her your personal business.”
“What now?” I wondered. “Is he finally going to call CPS like he’s been threatening? Justin, what if they say I can’t be around Sammy?”
“Relax, Mimi.” Justin pulled me into a hug. “Even if he does, they’ll see he’s not in any danger. You’ve been perfectly sober for a year. No relapses. You go to counseling, you’re in regular contact with your sponsor, you do everything you need to do to keep your life on track. They have no reason to prevent you from seeing him. For God’s sake, they let active drug users keep their kids as long as they don’t think they’re in danger.”
“Even I know that’s not true, Justin,” I replied.
“My point is, they don’t seem to look that closely at cases where there is real abuse or neglect. Those case managers are so overworked, they don’t look much deeper than how things appear. How many times do you hear on the news how some poor kid was harmed because they ‘fell through the cracks’? As long as they see that Sammy is healthy and happy, and you’re clean and sober, everything will be fine. They’re not going to waste their time on us when there are so many more serious cases to deal with.”
I wasn’t so sure, and I didn’t think Justin was entirely certain himself, but we had to tell ourselves something to calm our nerves for the moment. When we didn’t receive a visit from CPS over the following week, we assumed Armando Ortega was all bluster. How very wrong we were.
The following Monday morning, bright and early, the doorbell rang. I looked out the peephole, and Armando stood there, a big, nasty grin on his face. I didn’t bother to answer. Instead, I flew to Justin’s room where he was just pulling his shirt over his head. Under other circumstances, I’d have paused to admire the rippling muscles of his abdomen, but this time they went completely unnoticed.
“Justin,” I squeaked, completely out of breath, “Armando is at the door again.”
“That motherfucker. That’s it, this time I’m putting the fear of God into him.” I watched as Justin went to his dresser and removed his locked gun case from the top drawer. I gulped in fear. I wasn’t a fan of firearms, at all, and I didn’t think anything positive would be accomplished by Justin threatening him with one. I said as much.
“You let me handle this, Peaches,” he said as he tucked the revolver into the pocket of the hoodie he’d just put on. Justin stalked to the door and threw it open.
“I’ve given you ample warnings, Ortega. You’re trespassing. I’m armed. Are you going to stay or going to go?”
Armando just grinned. “I’m here on official business today, pendejo.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded manila envelope. He handed it to Justin. “You’ve been served, asshole.” Then, he turned and left quietly.
I looked at Justin, aghast. What were they up to now? An ominous feeling crept over me as he ripped open the envelope. He quickly scanned the documents inside, then looked up at me wide-eyed.
“Alejandra Ortega has filed a Petition for Custody.”
“What? Who is Alejandra?”
“She’s Delia’s mom. They want to take him away from us.”
Chapter Nine
Justin made an urgent call to Alan, who had also been served with the documents. While he had yet to review the specific allegations made against us, he wasn’t immediately concerned. He explained non-parent custody petitions were rarely granted, and to even be considered, they had to show substantial evidence Sammy was in danger of immediate harm by remaining in our care. He told us to relax and continue with life as usual. He would contact us soon to discuss his evaluation of their case and begin formulating our defense against their filing. It wasn’t easy to put aside, both of us were on edge for the next two days. For Sammy’s sake though, we tried to hide our anxiety as much as possible by maintaining his schedule. I also immersed myself in the remaining details of Justin’s upcoming surprise party. Seeing how miserable he was, I eventually let the cat out of the bag, so he could have something else to focus on. Together, we went shopping for all the supplies we needed and made last-minute phone calls to anyone I may have overlooked on the guest list.
That Saturday, his birthday went forward without any major meltdowns from anyone or some unforeseen disaster. There was one small hiccup, however, when Marina showed up in the backyard where we were all gathered, present in hand. I instantly wanted to chase her out and down the block or better yet, sic Snowflake on her, but I managed to control myself. I was pushing Sammy on his swing set and I knew if I stopped, he’d be one very unhappy boy. I played silent observer to the scene about to unfold instead.
Justin had had his back to Marina while he was cooking burgers and hot dogs on the barbecue. Even though it was his birthday, he refused to let anyone near his precious gas grill. After placing her present on the table where we’d collected the gifts, she sidled up behind him and pressed a little kiss to his cheek. At first, he turned with a smile, but when he saw it was her, his face hardened. He put his spatula down and grabbed her arm, marching her toward the house.
I absently pushed Sammy a few beats more before my burning curiosity kicked in. Fortunately, Sammy had finally lost interest in the swings and wanted to go play with Snowflake. I set him down, and he quickly toddled off. I went over to Justin’s mom and asked her to keep an eye on him while I went to the kitchen to ‘check on the cake’ even though we’d gotten a store-bought one. We hadn’t told anyone of Mrs. Ortega’s attempt to take Sammy away, so Audrey didn’t have the first clue as to the offense Marina was committing by showing up. If she had, she probably would have been the first person to attack Marina. Instead, she winked and pushed me in the direction of the house.
I crept into the kitchen quietly, not knowing where they were and not wanting to draw any attention to myself. I could hear voices drifting in from the adjacent living room, so I tip-toed to the doorway leading into the dining room to get a better position to hear them. I hid behind the wall and continued my eavesdropping
“… Justin, I can’t believe you’d say I shouldn’t be here. Of course, I should. I am as much your family as any of those people out there. I have been a big part of your lives over the last several months.”
“You merely tolerated Sammy, Marina. I’ve been your target all along. I should have sent you packing a lon
g time ago, but I fooled myself into thinking maybe something more could work out between us. The other day brought every warning sign I had to the forefront in big flashing lights. Then, as if abusing my son wasn’t damage enough, you had to give very private information to Armando Ortega. You’re a spiteful bitch. I never want to see your face again. Leave and don’t ever think of coming back.”
“Justin, please…” I could hear the tears in her voice. “You don’t mean any of this. I know it’s Mimi filling your head with bad things about me. She’s always been jealous of me and resented me being in your life.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong there, but I’d never done anything to sabotage her relationship. She did that all on her own.
“Mimi has never had a bad word to say about you until the other day. I think even less of you. You hit our son, and now, you’re trying to help the Ortegas take him away. You can’t possibly think I’d want anything to do with you.”
Marina completely ignored the mention of the Ortegas. “Justin, Sammy needs discipline, or he’ll never learn to function in the real world.”
“He’s one-year-old, Marina, and he’s autistic!” Justin exploded. “Hitting any child is wrong, but especially him. It will only confuse him and make him feel unsafe. Why am I even bothering to explain this to you? You’re trying to tear apart my family.”
“But Justin, you love me!” she exclaimed through her sobbing tears.
“No, Marina, I don’t, and I never did. We’ve been going at this casually and you know it.”
My heart leaped at this disclosure because I’d assumed he was at least a little in love, too.
“Who dates casually for almost a year?” she cried. “It means something. It means we’re going somewhere.”
“Not to me. I realized we never really had any long-term potential. I merely let things coast along because you were convenient.”
I did a silent cheer where I stood. I was rooting for him to tell her off even harder.
“So, you’re saying I was a handy piece of ass?” she asked, sounding angry.
“That’s fair. Now go away.”
I heard a slap, then stomping feet before the front door opened and closed loudly.
“You can come out now, Mimi,” Justin quietly called to me.
I sheepishly peeked around the doorway to see him rubbing his cheek. She obviously had a thing for slapping people. “How did you know I was here?” I asked.
“I heard the sliding door to the back yard open and close. If it were anyone else, they would have left right away, not wanting to overhear anything or made more noise. You’re the only person who would stay and listen.”
“Well, no,” I stammered, red-faced, “I think your mom might have stayed to listen, maybe to even interrupt.”
“Well, it wasn’t her, was it?”
“Fine, you caught me. Are you mad at me?”
“No,” Justin chuckled under his breath, “of course, I’m not mad at you. I didn’t tell her anything I wouldn’t say in front of you.”
“So, you don’t love her…?” I asked hesitantly.
Justin’s face broke into a wide grin. “Why do you want to know, Peaches?”
“I never stopped to think about how breaking up with Marina might affect you,” I stammered.
He continued to grin at me with a twinkle in his eye. “You sure that’s all?”
“Well, of course,” I denied.
“Okay, Mimi. I’ll let you off the hook for now. I don’t love her and never did. As she put it, she was a convenient piece of ass, mostly. I did enjoy her company and thought she looked hot, but as far as feelings go… that was about it.”
“Oh, Justin. Haven’t you learned about getting into these kinds of situations after Delia? What if Marina decides to go psycho on you, too? Look at the trouble she’s already caused.”
“I don’t think she will. Her pride wouldn’t let her chase after me anymore than she already has. In case you hadn’t noticed, she has a high opinion of herself. The worst she’s likely to do is bad-mouth me to anyone who will listen.”
“Under the current circumstances, that’s bad enough. Given our history with spurned women, however, I hope that’s all she does,” I said, shaking my head sadly.
“Come on, Peaches. Let’s let this drop and go out and enjoy the rest of the day with Sammy and the rest of our family. Our worries will wait for later.”
Justin’s attorney contacted him first thing Monday morning. Mrs. Ortega’s petition was very specific. Firstly, her son had observed evidence Sammy had been injured in our care. Next, they alleged Justin wasn’t providing a stable home life, and Sammy already had behavioral issues as a result. They also supported Delia’s prior claim that visitation with Delia would be beneficial. Alan thought this was laughable given Delia’s outburst at that hearing. The pièce de résistance however, was the assertion they had reason to believe I was using drugs while Sammy was in my care, thereby putting him at immediate risk of danger.
Justin explained Sammy’s tantrum and the accident. His attorney dismissed that point, saying the same thing Justin had said before, children get bumps and bruises all the time. Justin went on to explain that Sammy had ASD and the role his now ex-girlfriend played in the allegations against me. Alan immediately scheduled a meeting with the both of us the following day because the petition was filed on an emergency basis. It was set for a hearing in ten days.
After our nerves over the petition for visitation, I intended to be much more proactive in fighting this time around. I obtained statements from my sponsor and my therapist confirming my compliance with my recovery support plan, and that I was and had been clean and sober since I entered rehab. I even went back to the treatment center and got a statement from Abe, my counselor, which confirmed I adhered to their program, completely.
As if that weren’t enough, I also arranged for my mom, Audrey, and my girlfriends to attend the hearing, so they could also testify to my sobriety and devotion to Sammy. I armed myself as best as I could with ammunition to refute Mrs. Ortega’s claims. Justin did the same. He went to everyone we knew well and arranged for them to appear in person to speak on his behalf and secured a report from the emergency room physician that Sammy’s injury had been a common one and he suffered no ill consequences other than a large contusion. Going even further, Justin procured extensive reporting from Sammy’s psychiatrist and therapist regarding his ASD and treatment for it. Alan applauded our efforts and felt, combined with the argument he intended to launch, we had a good chance at beating down their effort to take Sammy away.
Unlike our fearful concerns over Delia’s petition for visitation, we set off for the custody hearing angry and determined to thwart Mrs. Ortega’s efforts to take Sammy away. This time, I attended the hearing to speak on my own behalf. Because pretty much everyone we knew was also coming to the hearing, we left Sammy with Justin’s Dad. He’d never watched him on his own before, but he arranged for a neighbor, a kindly grandmother-type, to come help.
At the hearing, Mrs. Ortega appeared in a wheelchair, steered by Armando himself. The shocking development was Marina was in their company. Apparently, she was to testify to Justin’s admission of my prior use and drug treatment, as well as the claim I routinely used drugs in Sammy’s presence. Once again, I wanted to launch myself at the witch, but of course, I remained appropriately decorous.
Hours of arguments went back and forth, the most offensive being Marina’s false testimony that I was unfit to provide care for Sammy. I had to admit, she gave an award-worthy performance, speaking fervently about her concerns and weeping on cue.
Once the arguments were presented and the Judge took a recess to consider all the evidence, we were exhausted and finally on edge about the outcome. It didn’t take long for the judge to return and rule in our favor given the amount of evidence we’d given the court. Mrs. Ortega’s ability to competently care for Sammy was brought into question given her obvious physical impairment. We were elated, of course.
Outside the courthouse, Justin, Alan, and I were quietly rejoicing at our victory. Armando approached our group.
“This isn’t over, Sever. Not by a long shot,” he vowed passionately.
Justin snorted and waved him away. They were out of options. We went home and retrieved Sammy, then all of us, including Samuel went out for a celebratory luncheon. Even Sammy seemed to be in a good mood, despite the disruption to his schedule.
The following weeks passed with no trouble or major catastrophes. I continued to look after Sammy though I remained living at home. It wasn’t much trouble to make the drive every day since I didn’t live far away. I also arrived very early in the morning and left late into the evening, avoiding any real traffic in the Los Angeles Basin. Justin seemed to be his usual self although I did find him taking far more breaks from work to come out and play with Sammy and chat with me. I tried not to overthink it, but couldn’t help wondering if he was now more concerned and protective over Sammy after our experiences with Marina and the Ortegas. Did he trust me less now?
One day, while Justin and I were sitting and playing ball with Sammy and Snowflake, Justin asked, “Whatever happened to our pizza and beer night? I think we need to resume that tradition.”
I looked at him and deadpanned, “You’re kidding, right? What happened? I abused substances, and it’s not a good idea to give an addict alcohol.”
“Yeah, okay.” Justin looked chagrined. “But who says it has to be beer? We could have pizza and soda night.”
“Oh, that sounds like so much fun. I’m not twelve. Besides, it could be a trigger for me, since I’m habituated to it now. I love beer with pizza, and I would probably be thinking the whole time I wished I could have a beer.”
“Okay, then. Let’s make up some other new tradition. Maybe movies and popcorn at an actual theater where they don’t serve alcohol. Maybe we can retrain your thinking that way.”
Just Perfection Page 14