His dad took the bag of trash and stepped over to the dock. “There was a young lady I needed to see, working at a certain hospital in Houston, so I figured I would find some work there, and eventually I convinced her to move back here to Livingston with me. Didn’t make much sense, but then sometimes what your heart tells you to do doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
Travis stayed on the boat, looking up at his dad.
“You’re telling me to follow my heart and ignore my mind.” He shook his head. “Goes against all my training.”
“I’m telling you to talk to your director. You’ve decided you can’t do both—your job and have a relationship with Erin. Might be true, might not be.”
His dad looked toward his car, then back. “But son, jobs will come and go. I’m not sure how many opportunities you’ll get to meet the love of your life. If I had moved to Ft. Worth, would God have had a different plan for me? Couldn’t say. I like the way this life turned out.”
He waved once, then turned and walked away.
Travis was left with a decision to make, but at least he had it out in the open now. He was no longer merely chasing nightmares around in his own head. Accepting Erin had been right to draw a line also helped to ease some of his unrest. As he buttoned the boat down for the night, he realized he didn’t have all the answers—but he had more than when he’d stepped on board.
He considered that to be progress.
—
On Monday morning, he skipped his morning run and arrived at the office before Moring. By the time she walked off the elevator and around the corner at 6:45, he was waiting outside her door.
“Williams. I don’t hold meetings before eight.” She sailed through the door of her office, turning on lamps and punching the on button to her private coffeemaker.
“And I’ve tried two other times, so I’m going to need you to make an exception this once.”
Her eyebrows moved up slightly as she turned and studied him. “All right. You have five minutes.”
He laid it out for her in the most succinct, business-like language he could manage—not glossing over the reality he’d broken more than a few protocols.
“You tried to tell me this the Friday before I went into the budget meeting.” Moring walked to the coffeemaker, poured the hot, brown liquid into her cup, and offered one to Travis, which he waved away. The last thing he needed at the moment was more acid on his stomach.
“Yes and before that on Wednesday. I realize that’s no excuse. I’ve felt this way about Erin since the flood, maybe since the day I met her.” He dropped the file he’d meticulously combed through after church the day before on her desk. “Everything’s up to date, and I transcribed all my notes myself. I figured you would want to pass this off to someone else as soon as possible. James is at least familiar with the case—”
“Are you presuming to do my job now?” Moring sat but didn’t pick up the file. “Travis, I don’t need to look in that file. I’ve supervised your work for six months, and the director before me highly recommended you. Have your personal feelings for Ms. Jacobs caused you to forget how to complete your job?”
“Well, no—”
“Have you represented the child’s interests to the best of your abilities?”
“Yes, of course. Joshua is very important to me.”
“I’m sure he is.” Moring set her coffee aside, steepled her fingers, and though he wanted to interrupt her and explain some more, he knew better than to say anything while she studied him in that way.
Finally, she pushed the folder back across the large mahogany desk and picked up her cup. “Take it. I have no patience for someone trying to dump their cases on their coworkers.”
“Maybe you didn’t understand what I said.” Travis fought to control his anger and lost. He bolted out of the chair and paced back and forth in front of the window that looked out over downtown Livingston where cars were beginning to wind their way down the street.
He remembered his father’s words—about only having so many chances. Erin was out there somewhere, and so was Joshua. Suddenly, all he wanted was to be with them.
“I can’t handle this case. I don’t even want to try anymore.” He turned on Moring. “I’m going to marry Erin if she’ll have me. That’s more important than my job.”
“Short engagement or long?”
“What?” Travis sat down in the chair before his legs gave out completely.
“I assume you and Erin would want a short engagement given the situation with Joshua, so we’ll fast-track this case. I’ll speak with the judge myself this morning.” She made a notation on her calendar, then beamed at him. “I’ll expect an invitation. Now you’ve used more than your five minutes. Was there anything else?”
“But… how am I supposed to do this?”
Moring sighed, closed her eyes temporarily, and he saw for the first time a bit of her age. When she opened her eyes, she stood and walked around the desk. Picking up the file, she placed it in his hands.
“Travis, the guidelines we have in place are just that—guidelines to protect the interests of the people we help. If you hadn’t come and talked to me, I might have been worried you couldn’t be objective in this case. The fact you have indicates to me you will continue to go out of your way to do so, as I’m sure this file indicates.”
She walked across the room and paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll make the judge aware of the situation. All you need to do is maintain a degree of public decorum until we pass this through the court system, which I imagine will be very quickly.”
“How quickly?” he asked, his head spinning at the idea he was still employed and hopefully soon to be engaged.
“We could be assigned a date within a month.”
Travis nodded, walked out of the office, and to the elevator. It wasn’t until he was back in his Blazer that he remembered he was supposed to be in his cubicle, working.
Thirty-Eight
Derrick Pitcher set ten thousand dollars in cash on his attorney’s table. The weasel’s finger actually twitched, but he had to give him credit—the man didn’t count it.
Instead, he pushed a button on his phone and called in his secretary. The woman could have been a model, but no doubt she earned more bringing William Hammett coffee each morning.
“Mr. Pitcher needs a receipt, Jessica.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Hammett.” Jessica counted out the hundred-dollar bills, then wrote out the requisite receipt.
As soon as the door had closed behind her, Derrick launched his attack. “Why haven’t you filed any motions?”
“I told you I’d file my first one when I received my retainer.”
“It’s been four weeks! What if they’ve already awarded the Jacobs woman custody?”
“If you were in a hurry, you should have put your affairs in order more quickly.”
“Do you know how hard it is to sell a yacht?”
“Not my problem, Mr. Pitcher. Time is not a concern in this matter. Child Welfare does not move quickly. I’ve been watching the case and little has been done. Director Moring requested the case be fast-tracked on Monday.”
“What?” Pitcher’s blood pressure soared so high he heard the sound of the surf in his ear drums. He’d handed this idiot one-third of the money he’d received for his yacht, and for what? To learn about these things after they happened?
“Judge Boultinghouse approved the motion today.” Hammett leaned back in his chair. “We’ll file our motion at four o’clock.”
“Four—”
“Four o’clock, Mr. Pitcher.” Hammett picked up his coffee and sipped it. “By the time the judge receives it and notifies the Child Welfare office, everyone will be gone. By Monday morning, you will show up looking presentable, as you do today, with your considerable sum of money and your very understandable explanation of why you didn’t appear earlier.”
Pitcher stopped gripping the chair and squinted at the man across from him. “My cover s
tory, you mean.”
“Call it what you like, but limit yourself to the details we agreed upon.”
Suddenly, it occurred to him he’d rather not play poker with this man, but then he didn’t need to. If he won the custody case, he’d pay him his exorbitant fee, hire a nanny for the kid, and live the life he’d always deserved.
Walking out to his rusted Jeep, he felt optimistic for the first time since Tara had stepped onto his yacht. Maybe this could work to his advantage after all.
—
Erin stared at Shirley’s protruding stomach, amazed her friend could still waddle at all.
“You look miserable.”
“I am, but it’ll be worth it in a few days.” She put one arm back against her couch and half fell into a sitting position. “This one’s actually been the easiest of the three.”
“How do you figure?” Erin peered down at her feet, which were barefoot in spite of the fact that the temperature outside had dropped below fifty for the first time.
Shirley wiggled her toes. “Do they look bad? Be honest. I haven’t seen them in two weeks.”
“Yes, and no. Your toes look great since I painted them, but your ankles, they look painful.”
“Actually, I can’t feel them too much. I cut out the salt like Doc Mason said, but the only difference I can tell is my food tastes bland.”
Erin gawked when Shirley’s shirt printed with a fall leaf pattern began to move. Tiny fall leaves slid left to right.
A smile spread across both their faces.
“He hasn’t moved much lately,” Shirley whispered. “Hey, Daniel. Whatcha doing in there?”
Grabbing Erin’s hand, she placed it on top of her belly. “I thought things were too crowded.” Shirley pressed her hand against the side where the leaves had heaped up in a pile. “Feel that? I think it’s a foot. I hope it’s a foot. Otherwise, we’re coming out upside down, but Doc assures me Danny’s feet are firmly placed at the top now.”
Erin wondered again what it would be like to have life inside of you—growing there within your being. There had been a time when she’d actually hoped another child might be in her future, a sibling for Josh. But lately she’d given up on that dream. It didn’t seem like God meant it for her, at least not anytime soon.
With her hands on Shirley’s tummy though, it felt as if she were holding the entire world. In that moment she felt so much happiness for all she had added to her life and so much sadness for all she had lost. The incongruity gripped her, squeezed her heart so that she suddenly had trouble breathing.
A natural bodily function, and she simply forgot to do it.
“Erin!” Shirley slapped her on the back and pounded between her shoulder blades. “Are you okay? Take a breath.”
“I’m… I’m fine.” She took deep breaths, like a diver coming up from the dark recesses of the ocean. Stupid. It was stupid to go under. It had happened twice before, and she swore it wouldn’t happen again.
“What happened?” Shirley pulled her red hair back with one hand, but kept the other placed firmly on Erin’s back. “You looked like you’d choked on something. Your faced turned white as a new moon.”
“It’s nothing.” Erin rubbed her chest and took a few more steadying breaths. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Do you want something?”
“Sure. Bring two bottles of water from the fridge and the plate of homemade apple-raisin cookies on the counter. Barbara Williams brought them over yesterday, and I do not need to eat them all.”
Erin’s steps froze at Barbara’s name, but she somehow kick-started herself and walked to the kitchen, where she retrieved the cookies and water. By the time she returned to the living room, Shirley was looking at her like Nancy Drew who’d just solved the latest mystery.
“It’s Travis, isn’t it? I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I didn’t know if I should bring it up or not.”
Setting the plate of cookies on the table, Erin shrugged. “I don’t think talking will help, but then I can’t feel any worse about it either.”
“He still hasn’t called?”
Erin shook her head, picked up a cookie, and nibbled around the edge.
“How long has it been?”
“Nearly four weeks.”
“Have you seen him at all?”
“Once. Josh and I had a visit at the office. He made sure James was present—pretended he needed someone to take interview notes.”
Shirley sighed, picked up the plate of cookies, and balanced it on her belly. “It is what you asked him to do, so at least he’s honoring your request. Shows he respects you.”
“Doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I don’t know, honey. It’s a difficult situation. What did you want to happen?”
Erin felt the bands around her heart tighten and fought to keep her tone light. “Maybe he’d decide he couldn’t live without seeing us. It’s amazing how much Josh has changed in even four weeks. He’s starting to grab hold of things, and if you lay him on his tummy he raises up his head. He smiles at me all the time.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she brushed them away. She was through with crying. “I know Travis’s job is important to him, and I respect that. I suppose I’d hoped he’d find a way to make it work where he could be involved in our lives… if he wanted to.” Her voice grew smaller. “Maybe he doesn’t want to.”
Shirley wiggled forward, set the plate on the table, and pulled her into a clumsy hug. “I’ll keep praying. You are a wonderful person, Erin Jacobs, and I’m pretty sure Travis knows it as well as I do.”
“I feel like I’m in limbo, and I don’t know how to handle that or how long it will take. Am I supposed to wait around?” Erin brushed her tears away with her palms and knew she’d have to reapply some makeup before picking up Joshua.
“Nope. Live your life, and let God handle the details. He’s pretty trustworthy. Speaking of details, where is Joshua?”
Erin laughed, her heart lightening at the thought of her little man. “He’s with Evelyn. I had a call while I was with Doc, and she insisted on keeping him.”
“What was the emergency this time?”
“A boa constrictor escaped in a second-grade classroom. A little boy brought him for show-and-tell, but forgot to check with the teacher before bringing him to school. Then when he went to show Lanky to the class, there was a small panic.”
“Oh my. Tell me you found him.”
“Found, recaptured, and safely returned home.”
“Your job is not boring.”
“No, it is not.”
“Does anyone pay you for those calls?”
“The child’s mother made a nice donation.”
Erin left Shirley’s home feeling somehow cleansed. She’d carried Travis’s absence around in her heart for too long. Sharing it with her friend helped to ease the pain. Her natural inclination was to stay home and nurse her wounds. She’d made a promise though—to Travis, to herself, and most importantly to Joshua.
She was going to make good on her vow to become a part of this community. So she headed back to Evelyn’s and picked up Josh. She had an ARK to get in order. After all it was Friday night, and Friday night was adult’s night out. Tonight’s calendar included a movie and a game arcade.
Neither was her favorite thing to do, but it probably beat flipping through TV channels.
On the other hand, she hadn’t quite figured out how to handle Russ and Homer. The thought of those two brought an involuntary smile to her lips. They were like two giant Labradors, vying for her attention.
Attention was one thing every girl could find a way to handle, especially from such good-natured guys. Too bad her heart was firmly entrenched across town in the hands of one very silent social worker.
—
Travis stared at the church calendar and frowned. He hadn’t been to a movie in a very long time. Most of what Hollywood put out did not appeal to him, and this one didn’t promise to be much better—an adventure flick wi
th a twenty-four-hour timeframe, ticking bomb, professor-type hero, and the obligatory beautiful woman. If only life were so easy.
All followed by an hour at the local arcade?
He’d rather spend the night going through his new case files.
Throwing the calendar on his countertop, he looked over at James and scowled. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“At my church we get together for board games—everything from Monopoly to hearts.” When Travis raised a skeptical eyebrow, he helped himself to another fistful of chips. “You should suggest it. Better than… what was it? An hour at the arcade. How do you get rid of the teenagers?”
“A guy at our church owns the place. He cordons off one room for private parties.”
“Who plays arcades anymore? Now if he had game systems…”
“I’m really not interested in either.”
Travis collapsed into his leather recliner and flipped through the lengthy array of sports channels. He had splurged on very little in his life—his boat being one, and his plasma television and leather couch and recliners the other. Of course, he was nearing thirty with no family. The thought brought on another twinge of pain.
It was his own fault he had no family. He’d made work his priority for much too long, and tonight was his chance to fix that mistake.
“Great game of racquetball.” James grabbed his keys off the counter. “I might have to move into these apartments so I can beat you more often.”
“Their athletic facilities are a perk, but even if you lived here, beating me would always be a rare event.”
“Dude, the last score was 15-2.”
Travis dropped the remote, then stood and stretched. “I was distracted.”
“I’ll say. Nervous?”
“A little. I haven’t seen her, except in the office, in four weeks.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. You received Moring’s clearance on Monday.”
“I was waiting for the judge’s go-ahead.”
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