Vindicated

by eliza_000

  “As we discussed before, you signed away all parental rights to Emma and that leaves you with no legal recourse in the matter,” Moseley said. “Once parental rights are terminated, you have no say in the child’s welfare or upbringing.”

  Parental rights? His words jerked Randy out of distraction and into the conversation. Karly’s situation was much more complicated than he’d ever dreamed. So Emma wasn’t her sister? A million more questions raced through his mind, followed by a confusing flood of emotions. She trusted him with this huge secret. Why? He needed answers and would demand them as soon as they were alone, but for now, he needed to curb his frustrated curiosity and be supportive. An overwhelming need to protect her sent him to the edge of his chair, as if he could somehow shield her from the unknown.

  “But I was only fourteen,” Karly replied. “I was a minor and didn’t know what I was doing at the time. No one explained to me what I was signing. I thought I was giving them temporary custody until I reached majority.”

  Moseley huffed a sigh and leaned back in his glossy red leather chair, steepling his fingers in front of him as he thought. “I suppose we could pursue that angle. I have to tell you it isn’t very likely to be successful, however.” He leaned forward again, his voice lowering in sympathy. “This isn’t easy for me to tell you, Ms. Eriksson, but I checked with a few of my friends downtown. Your dad is in jail for check deception, and the whereabouts of your mother is unknown at this time. Emma has been placed into foster care, which makes the situation even more complicated.”

  Randy felt Karly’s body tense from two feet away and heard the harsh exhalation of her breath. Her fingers clenched on the arms of her chair, leaving dents in the leather.

  “What do you mean? That’s not possible. I have to see her.” The desperation in Karly’s voice made Randy’s throat tighten with empathy. She tried to rise from the chair as if struggling against unseen bonds before sliding back into the seat, a defeated slump to her shoulders. “Where is she?” she asked in a whisper.

  The inability to help her brought a sting to Randy’s eyes. All he could do was put a hand on her forearm and squeeze to let her know he was beside her, that she wasn’t alone.

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” Moseley said, his own voice choked with a surprising show of emotion. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I can tell you she’s only been there a few days. If we act fast, we might be able to slow down the process and at least get temporary custody until something more permanent is achieved.”

  A little of the tension in Karly’s arm relaxed beneath Randy’s grasp. She glanced at him. He expected to find tears glimmering in her soft eyes, but what he found instead was fire and courage blazing with fierce intensity.

  “I don’t care what you have to do. I want her back,” Karly said in a voice edged with steel.

  “It’s going to cost you,” Moseley said, shaking his head. “Money and time. Are you sure you’re prepared for this kind of battle? Frankly, Ms. Eriksson, I admire your determination, but without the capital to fund this venture, I’m not sure you’re going to get anywhere.”

  Chapter 32

  Neither of them spoke when they left Moseley’s office until they got into the truck. Randy felt as shocked as Karly looked with her face pale and lips trembling. This unexpected peek into her life left him reeling with the realization he didn’t know anything about her. On the outside, she was a sweet and unassuming girl with a bright smile and infectious laugh. Underneath, there was so much more. It was like turning the pages of a book, finding each chapter more intriguing than the previous, and having no recourse but to finish the story.

  “I got pregnant when I was fourteen,” Karly said, her voice a husky whisper but surprisingly even and controlled. “He lived down the street. Sometimes he came over to hang out with Mitch. He was really popular, and I was so flattered whenever he paid attention to me. I had the biggest crush on him. He drove me home from a party one night. He kept telling me how much he liked me. I let things go too far. It was my first time, and I got pregnant.”

  Randy held his breath, waiting for her to go on, afraid to speak in case she stopped talking.

  “My parents were so pissed. My mom locked me in my room for a week, until the school called to find out where I was. My dad couldn’t beat me because of the baby, so he beat Mitch within an inch of his life. Broke his ribs and nose. He was almost eighteen, but he stayed until I had Emma to keep Dad from hurting us. When I turned sixteen, my dad threw me out. He said he couldn’t stand having a slut under his roof any longer. And I got a horrible reputation at school.” She clenched her fists tight as if holding in the anger and hurt. “I should have done something before this, but every time I mentioned taking Emma, my parents would go on and on about how I’m such a loser. They convinced me I’d be a terrible parent. As if I could be any worse than either of them.”

  “Christ, Karly, you were really young,” He raked a hand through his hair with a trembling hand. “You can’t blame yourself for being a kid.”

  She gave him a brief smile and shook her head. “Mitch and I had both been in and out of foster homes when we were younger, and those were almost worse than living at home. It’s horrible to be in someone else’s house, living with people who know nothing about you. It breaks my heart to think of Emma living with strangers. Not knowing how much I love and want her.”

  He followed her into the apartment, unsure what to do, uncomfortable with the intense emotions swirling around them, but unwilling to leave her alone until he knew for sure she was going to be okay. While she kicked off her shoes and tossed her keys on the coffee table, he stood by the front door, shifting from one foot to the other.

  With his new insight into her life, everything looked different. She looked different. He had a picture of her as a fourteen-year-old, pregnant and frightened, compared to the woman in front of him today. He watched her move zombie-like through the room and saw a fierce and independent girl struggling to rise up from the wreckage of a life she hadn’t chosen, taking hit after hit by fate but continuing to fight. His eyes travelled along the homey apartment, over the worn secondhand furniture, the colorful throw rugs, and soft pillows before stopping on the pictures of Emma on the opposite wall. Despite everything, she’d somehow managed to turn a shitty flat into a comfortable and welcoming place. The lump rising in his throat caused him to clear his throat and thump a hand on his chest in panic at the surge of emotion.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said, turning to face him, her determined face raised to meet his. “I’ll pay you back every penny for today. You can keep my car, if you want. I know it’s not worth much, but you said the parts would be worth something. It’ll take some time to get your money, since I’m so freaking unemployable, but I’ll make sure—”

  He stopped her by raising his hand, scowling to cover up his feelings. “It was nothing, really. Moseley loves to gamble and he’s been on a losing streak for the last two months, so he’s into me big time.” Too late, he realized his slip and the disclosure of a very personal part of his life. If she knew what he did, how he made money, she’d never look at him the same.

  “Really? Okay. If you’re sure.” If she noticed the mistake, she didn’t let on, giving him a tight smile and a nod of the head. “Well, if there’s anything I can ever do for you—anything at all—please let me know. I owe you big time.”

  “Sure,” he said, uncomfortable with the gratitude for something that cost him so little.

  “Well…” She bit her lower lip and looked away. “I’m sure you have things to do so I won’t keep you any longer.”

  “I can stay if you want,” he said. “I’m not busy.” Which was a lie. He’d already missed a basketball game with Jack at the youth center, and by the inordinate number of texts and voicemails on his cell, he’d catch hell about it later.

  “No. You don’t have to.” For the first time, her voice trembled. “I need to be alone so I can process all this.” Tea
rs welled in her eyes, branding her as a liar, too.

  Without any thoughts for his heart or the wall around it, he reached for her and pulled her tight into his chest, hugging her to him in an attempt to absorb some of the hurt in her eyes.

  She cried for the better part of an hour. Long, wracking sobs shook her body like an earthquake. All he could do was hold her on his lap, smoothing her hair and murmuring nonsense while she clung to him. The circulation in his legs slowed and his thigh muscles cramped from sitting in one position for too long, but every time he tried to shift, her grip tightened. When the front of his shirt was dark with her tears and her sobs had quieted, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded in answer, her cheek resting against his chest and fingers still clutched in his shirt. “You look good in this shirt,” she said, her voice thick with tears as her fingers played with the buttons along his chest. “Meagan thought so too.”

  “Thanks.” He laughed at the way she always caught him by surprise. “How do you know Meagan liked it?”

  “She was fucking you with her eyes,” Karly said.

  “Hmm…well, we went out a couple of times, but it didn’t work out. She’s not my type,” he replied, shifting her weight to allow the blood back into his feet.

  “What is your type?” Karly asked.

  You are, his heart screamed, but his mind shut the thought down before it could pollute his words. “I don’t have a type.”

  She chuckled, which was a good sign. It meant she was coming back to herself, and he could get the hell out before she wrecked him. Because she would wreck him. He knew it with the same certainty he knew the sun would rise tomorrow morning.

  As if reading his thoughts, she pushed away from his chest and wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Even with puffy eyes and a red nose, she was adorable. “Well, that was exhausting,” she said with a bit of the spark he admired. “I think I’m going to take a hot shower and lay down for awhile.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” he replied, awkward and uncomfortable with their new intimacy. “I’ve got some shit to do myself.” She pushed away from him, distancing herself physically and emotionally. The loss of the weight and heat of her body left him curiously cold and empty. He missed her already, and he hadn’t even left yet. He coughed and stood up with her. Once again, his mouth spoke without his permission. “You want to go out for dinner sometime?”

  “You mean, like a date?” One of her eyebrows arched, mocking him. “Or is this a two-hungry-people-eating-in-the-same-place kind of thing?”

  “Yeah. I guess so,” he said. Heat flushed his face and neck. How the hell did she manage to fluster him like that? “I mean, yes. A date. What do you think?”

  “Yes,” she said, and his heart leaped. “But not tonight.”

  Chapter 33

  With focused determination, Randy drove straight from Karly’s apartment to Caleb’s daycare and pulled to the curb in front of the playground. He spotted Caleb immediately with his bright, curly red hair and exuberant manner. The boy was chasing a little girl around the slide, something clutched in his chubby fist, eliciting shrieks of merriment and terror from the girl.

  Randy watched for a few minutes, pride and love swelling his chest with such intensity that he thought his heart would burst from the force of it. Caleb skidded to a stop when he recognized Randy’s truck and, with a squeal of delight, barreled at high speed in his direction. Randy stepped out of the truck, concerned the boy would streak across the street without looking.

  “Daddy!” Caleb rocketed into Randy’s legs with surprising force for a three-year-old and hugged Randy’s knees. Daddy. It was the sweetest word in the entire world. Nothing compared with the sound of it. He’d crawl across broken glass on his bare hands and knees to hear that word from his son.

  Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them back, undone by the strength of emotion. Being with Karly did that to him, stirred up feelings he’d never recognize otherwise.

  “Hey, bud.” Randy scooped the boy up and held him high in the air.

  “Looky!” Caleb extended his grimy fist to exhibit the carcass of a dead mouse.

  “Very nice,” Randy said. He took a second to inhale the clean scent of Caleb’s hair before dropping a kiss on the boy’s forehead. “Why were you chasing the little girl?”

  “She’s a poopy-head,” Caleb said, wrinkling his nose. He rolled his face along Randy’s cheek in a burst of affection.

  “It’s not nice to chase girls, dude,” Randy said.

  The woman striding across the grass, cell phone in hand, pulled his attention from his son. She looked pissed and a little frightened. He let Caleb slide down to the ground and placed a hand on top of the boy’s head.

  “My daddy,” Caleb said to the woman with pride and fisted a hand in Randy’s jeans, smearing mud along his pants leg.

  “Oh…yes,” the woman said. She breathed an obvious sigh of relief as her eyes flickered up from Caleb to meet Randy’s gaze. “It’s obvious. He looks just like you.”

  “Let’s go, Daddy. I want to go with you.” Caleb’s face scrunched into a scowl.

  The woman was on her cell phone before Randy could reply. She held a hand out to Caleb, warning him to wait. Randy frowned at her and knelt beside Caleb to tie his unlaced tennis shoe. She turned away and after a short, muffled conversation, gave Randy a polite but cold smile. “I spoke with his mother and she says you can’t take him.”

  “I never said I was going to take him,” Randy said, his eyes trained on knotting the shoestring while Caleb fidgeted. “Stand still, buddy, so I can tie this.”

  “Well, just so we’re clear.” She reached a hand out to Caleb, but he turned into Randy, burying his face in his shoulder.

  “No,” he cried. “I want to go with you, Daddy.”

  A chest-splintering ache ripped his guts as the boy clutched at his shirt and sniffled into his neck. Those gripping fists hurt more than the knife Pilar had put into his back. He rubbed a soothing hand over Caleb’s back and stood, clutching the boy to him.

  “Hey, it’s alright,” he murmured. “You have to go with the lady, bud. But we’ll hang out another time, okay?”

  “No,” Caleb wailed, kicking his feet. “No, Daddy. Take me with you.” The sobs came in earnest now, wracking the little body with an intensity that shattered the last of Randy’s self-control.

  “Please, sir,” the lady said. She placed a hand on his arm. He shot a glance at her, causing her to reclaim her hand with a jerk. She took a step back and drew in a deep breath with a torn expression, clearly sympathetic to both father and son. “I really don’t want to cause a scene.”

  A scene was the last thing he needed. Mitch would exercise his legal authority and turn this into some kind of altercation. Randy sighed in frustration as he tore the boy’s clutching hands from his shirt and handed him to the woman, feeling as if he’d handed her his heart.

  Back in his truck, he punched the headliner with a fist. He’d tried to be the nice guy and work things out with Pilar, but damned if it had gotten him nowhere. He was done being nice. The morning with Karly reminded him how much his son meant to him. Her determination renewed his strength. Caleb was the one good thing to come out of the wreckage of his life, and he would not give him up.

  Chapter 34

  Four blocks south of Felony, a late nineteenth-century brown brick building housed the Midtown Soup Kitchen. It had been an opera house once upon a time and still boasted the fancy corbels and turrets from its heyday. Grayed plywood covered the windows, and graffiti splattered the walls. Seeing the line of bedraggled and forlorn patrons waiting on the sidewalk for hot meals on a cold winter day brought back a flood of bittersweet memories. The comforting scents of baking bread and simmering stew, the hustle and bustle of volunteers working to see that each and every visitor had food, and the underlying sense of hopelessness that clung to the patrons were all too familiar for Karly.


  A plump middle-aged woman with snow-white hair, bearing a striking resemblance to Mrs. Claus, met her at the door. She bustled toward Karly with a look of frazzled panic on her careworn face.

  "Thank goodness you're here," said the woman. She took Karly by the arm and tugged her toward the kitchen in the back. "The Goodwins didn't show, and we've got a record-breaking line of people out there. We can use every hand we've got." She shoved open the swinging doors to the kitchen. "Are you sure you're up for this?" The woman eyed her up and down with narrowed eyes. "Why, you're a bitty thing, aren't you?" She took an apron from a hook near the door and thrust it at Karly. "No matter. We'll take you. Now, the potatoes are over there. Start peeling."

  "I think you have me confused with someone else," Karly said, unable to repress a smile of amusement at the woman's forthright manner. "I'm looking for Randy Mackenzie. Is he here?"

  "Randy? You're not from the First Presbyterian Church?" The woman stopped short. Karly shook her head. The woman's shoulders drooped and she sighed like a deflating balloon. "Hmmm, let me see. I believe he's in the dining hall. Through the doors and to the right. You can't miss it." She turned and bustled off in the opposite direction, muttering and shaking her head.

  When Karly found Randy, he was in the cavernous dining hall, standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen shrieking children. She paused in the doorway to smile at the scene. He raised his arms, growled, and charged with mock ferocity at one of the smaller boys. Delighted squeals echoed throughout the room. Children shot off in all directions like playful bunnies. A vigorous game of tag ensued. Randy chased each child in turn until their cheeks glowed with excitement and glee. The sight of him, relaxed and playful, warmed her to the toes. He was so much more than she’d ever imagined. Her heart ached at the thought of his son, deprived of a father who so obviously loved children.