by Julie Bailes
“Your Honor,” they greet in unison.
My phone vibrates as the judge looks through the file in front of her. I reach in my pocket to pull it out, but Larry firmly grabs my hand and stops me. “Not now,” he whispers.
“Mr. Cooper, I see that you’re here to get custody of your daughter, three-and-a-half years after her adoption? Please, enlighten me. Why the sudden interest?” she asks. Larry motions for me to stand.
I stand and answer her question. “Your Honor,” I greet. “I have a sudden interest in my daughter because I only recently found out about her existence. You see, I made the biggest mistake of my life a little over four years ago leaving her mother behind. Being young and quick to make irrational decisions, I left without letting Allie know my whereabouts. For the last four years, I’ve served my country, and when I returned home, I discovered I have a daughter who someone else is raising. Your Honor, I assure you that I had no knowledge of Lacy until a few months ago,” I continue. She replaces her glasses and looks through the papers in her hands. The courtroom’s eerily silent, except for the rattling paper and sniffling coming from the Ruben’s table.
“Mr. Cooper, are you aware that Miss Anderson and the agency reached out to you?”
“No, Ma’am. She did?” I ask. I know she said she followed state regulations and did everything the agency asked of her, but I’m unaware of what they require.
“She did. Mr. Morris, please accompany your client up to my podium,” she orders. I follow Larry to the podium, and she lays out several papers in front of us. “This is a clipping from the local paper. This is the email sent to your account, and this is where she placed an ad on a website. She reached out to you more than we required her to. She wanted you to see these articles. She was pleading for help from you,” she explains, pointing to each individual ad. “You didn’t see any of these, Mr. Cooper? No one told you about Allie’s attempt to find you? Your friends or family, anyone?” she asks.
“No. I didn’t keep in contact with anyone after I left,” I admit. I inhale a deep breath in an attempt to keep my composure. Because right now, I feel as if I could break down at any moment. The last thing I need is for this case to be dismissed or prolonged because the judge sees me as unstable and sends me off for a psych evaluation.
Allie wanted our baby, and I’m the reason she couldn’t raise her. She reached out to me and believes I ignored her; that’s why she followed through with the adoption. Fuck, I truly am unworthy of her love. “You may go back to your seats.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Your Honor,” Larry replies.
Dr. Ruben’s eyes remain attached to the side of my face as I make my way back to the table. I chance a glance at him, and I see a look that I never thought I would see from him. It’s not a look of anger or hate, but empathy. He gives a nod and turns his attention back to his silently-sobbing wife.
“Mr. Cooper, I have to admit that this is a rare case, and I’m going to have to think long and hard about my decision. Honestly, I’m not sure that it would be fair for me to take this little girl away from her parents. Dr. and Mrs. Ruben are all she’s ever known. She doesn’t know who you are, Mr. Cooper. Now, is it fair to you? No, because every father deserves a chance to be one. However, I have to consider what’s best for the child. As of now, it’s best that she remain in the custody of her adoptive parents, Dr. and Mrs. Ruben. I’m going to take a week or two to read through this file thoroughly, read the depositions and get a feel for who you are. In the meantime, I’m going to order a DNA test to prove you’re the biological father of Lacy. Mr. Morris will inform you of the place and time to appear for your testing.”
Not what I was hoping for today, but I’ll take it because it’s not a no. “Aren’t the judges supposed to read the dockets prior to their hearings?” I ask my lawyer curiously, as we leave the courtroom.
“Not necessarily. They glance through them and get a sense of what their cases are about. Most of the time, especially in a case such as yours, the judge wants to hear your story from you, rather than read it. Anything can look good on paper, but emotion is better seen in person. You can put emotions on paper, but it really shines through when you’re put on the spot. Now that she knows you’re sincere, she’ll read it all,” he explains nonchalantly. And since he’s relaxed and calm about her decision to hold off on her verdict, I relax. “Plus, we have to prove you’re the father,” he adds with a smile.
“I’m not sure what you’re smiling about, Larry, but you need to suppress that shit. She’s mine, no question about it,” I snap.
“I’m sure she is. Calm down. I’m just saying that it’s not uncommon for DNA results to be different than we expected them to be.” He slaps my shoulder and strides over to his Hummer. “I’ll be in touch, Mr. Cooper,” he throws over his shoulder, ending our conversation as he climbs into his gas-guzzling vehicle Hummer.
***
It’s been two days since the hearing, and I’ve yet to hear a damn thing from Allie or Larry. “What!” Allie snaps. Yes, I’ve been blowing her phone up for days.
“Calm down, killer,” I tease.
“What do you want?” she sighs.
I want what every person wants when they call someone, to talk. “I know your hormones are all fucked up, but it’d be easier to talk to you if you’d at least pretend you were happy to hear from me,” I suggest. I remember when I could walk into the same room as her, and my very presence would light up her face. Making her happy came easy then. Now, her reaction to me is all sorts of conflicting. She ignores my calls and texts. She says one thing, but her body and eyes say another. When she’s around me, by herself, she opens up to me. The spark between us gets stronger each time we touch. Sometimes, giving up seems like the better plan. However, I’m no quitter, and I keep my promises. Plus, giving up is easy, and anything worth having is worth fighting for.
“I’ve been calling every damn day, Al, but you know that, because you continue to send me straight to voicemail. What happened, huh?” I question, wondering why she’s giving me the cold shoulder, especially after the coffee shop.
“Nothing happened. We aren’t friends. We aren’t family, and we aren’t together. If we were, I would’ve answered your calls. Take the hint and know I don’t have anything to discuss with you.” When’s she going to learn that she can’t hide things from me? She sucks at lying, and the quivering in her voice tells me that’s exactly what she’s doing.
“Do us both a favor, save our time and admit you want me. There’s no denying it, butterfly; our kiss said it all. I felt your legs go weak, baby. Hell, I even felt your heart pounding through your mouth as my mouth claimed yours. Fighting is hard, isn’t it? You know just as well as I do that your heart’s a slave to my touch.” I hear her breath quicken just before I hear the click of a door closing.
“You’re full of yourself. I forgot, okay? I let myself forget about all the pain you’ve caused me and reminisced about what we used to have. But don’t worry, that’ll never happen again. I already told you I love you, but not the way you say you love me. You’re the memory I want to forget. You come home after being gone for four years; I have a baby and give her away, and had endless nights of crying myself to sleep. I cried for you, prayed for you to appear out of thin air, and finally you do—at the worst time,” she sniffs. “The absolute worst time, ever. My heart may think it needs you, but it doesn’t. You’re the douche that fucked me and left me, for four fucking years! Yes, I may have forgiven you for leaving, but you did it again the night I told you about me being pregnant. Not only that, but I saw you fucking my best friend, Wyatt. Don’t say anything,” she warns.
She knows me and my defensive habits well. “I believe what you showed me, but that’s not a memory I can erase. Besides, I already told you that Blake’s claimed my heart. He picked up the pieces you left behind and mended it back together. I want him, Wyatt. Please, let me love him. For once, put me first and allow me to be happy,” she pleads.
Her
plea slices through me like frigid winds. “I can’t,” I choke. I wait for her response, expecting her to tell me ‘you can and you will’, but praying she surrenders and encourages me to continue fighting. The only thing I hear is her sigh before ending the call.
I refuse to cry because she can’t love me the way she used to; she doesn’t need to. I’m not the immature and irrational boy I once was. I’m a grown and mature man, and it’s my mission to make her love me for the man I am now, not the man I used to be. Blake can’t claim her heart when I still own it. And he hasn’t mended her heart; he’s only temporarily fixed it. I’m the permanent fix, and they both know it. She’s always had a heart of gold and never wants to hurt anyone, but not this time. I’m not letting her take the easy way out, and that’s what she’s doing by using Blake as a security blanket; that’s all he is. I refuse to step aside while they live life playing house. Hell no. She’s going to pull up her big-girl panties and face reality, and fate.
Still jobless, antisocial, and going insane, I decide to call up an old friend from college. A friend who’s one hell of a listener and counselor. I cross my fingers and hope the number I have is still the same; I haven’t used it since I left Jacksonville. “This is Jordan.” I release a breath at the greeting and remain silent. I’m not sure what to say or the reaction I’ll receive. “Hello? Are you there? FUCK! I hate this phone!”
I laugh at the frustration that fills the line. “Jordan, hey, it’s Wyatt.”
“Wyatt? Seriously, who the fuck is this?”
Laughter fills the room, laughter from me; something I haven’t heard in a while. “Not fucking around, JoJo. It’s me. I was wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up. I know it’s been a while, but I really need someone to talk to. My treat,” I coax.
“I’m headed into the office, but I shouldn’t be long. Want to meet me at Duck’s in an hour? We can grab some wings and long necks, just like we used to.”
My mouth instantly waters from remembering the taste of Duck’s wings. “Hell yeah! I’ll see you in an hour.”
I could’ve called one of the guys, but they wouldn’t understand like JoJo will. She’s rough around the edges, sympathetic, but she’s not afraid to tell you to get your head outta your ass. I get dressed and head on over to Duck’s to take back a few cold ones before she arrives. When I walk in, Taylor’s eyes bulge from their sockets. He’s the last person I want to see. He’s an arrogant son-of-a-bitch. “Dude! Holy shit, bro. Where you been?” he asks, leaning over the bar for a guy hug.
“You know, here and there,” I shrug. Taylor was my spotter at the gym. Kyle introduced us my junior year of high school. He was actually Allie’s boyfriend before I came into the picture. He was more muscular than me back then, but now I’m double his size. I’d like to see his ass beat me in arm wrestling now. Yeah, that shit ain’t happenin’. We played football together, and everyone was intimidated by his size. Even our competitors would fall to the ground to avoid being sacked by him.
“Have a seat, man. Damn, tell me where you’ve been,” he insists, popping the cap to my beer. “Bro, I thought you were dead,” he chuckles.
I take a swig of the bitter, spiced coolness and chuckle along with him. “As you can see, I’m alive. I’ve just been away for a while.”
He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders as he stocks the cooler behind the bar. “That’s all I get? It’s obvious you’ve been away, but where?”
Why can’t people take shit for what it is? I mean, when I tell you a short and simple answer, just roll with it. Obviously, I don’t want to play footsie and tell you the hell I lived in for four fucking years. “There’s not much to tell, man. I’ve just been around, keeping my distance from here. That’s all.” I take a few more swigs and check my watch; Jordan should be here in a few minutes.
“That’s all, huh? You were just keeping your distance? From who, Allie?” he asks in a smart-ass tone.
“What would make you think I left to keep distance between me and Allie?” I hiss.
“I know what it did to her when you left. Yeah, you didn’t think she’d run back into my arms, did you?” he smirks. My hand’s gripping the neck of the bottle, and my fist’s twitching to reach up and slam it into his snarky-ass face.
“She didn’t fucking run to you. You only wish she did,” I seethe.
“Oh, she did,” he brags, sucking his teeth. I reach over the bar and pull him to me by his shirt.
“Don’t fuck with me, Taylor. I will bash your face in, you lying motherfucker,” I spit.
“Oh, fuck it to hell … Let him go,” JoJo demands, pinching the meat on the back of my arm.
“Dammit, JoJo, that shit hurts,” I complain. Turning around, I take her into my arms and pick her up from the floor. I give her a tight squeeze, and she flicks my ear.
“That’s enough, put me down.” She’s never been a squealer, or hugger. I find it odd that she’s a fantastic nurturer, yet she hates to be touched. “You haven’t changed a bit,” I laugh. She eyes me from head to toe and back up again. “Can’t say the same about you. Damn, son, you’re a tank,” she acknowledges. “And these,” she points out my tattoos; “I know you whimpered like a little bitch, didn’t you?” she teases with a wink.
She takes my arm and leads me away from the bar, settling on a table over by the window. She makes sure I sit with my back facing Taylor. She orders our wings and beers then begins her interrogation. “Where have you been, Wyatt?” Would it hurt for her to say ‘’Hey buddy, missed your ass like crazy, how’ve you been?’ Anything but that damn question.
“Overseas,” I reply. Short and simple, but not good enough.
“Oh-kay, what for? Tell me the truth,” she urges.
“Kyle joined the Marines. I followed him, and now I’m back. That good enough?”
She crosses her arms and leans on the table. She cocks her head and her eyes search mine. “Depends. Is that all you’re willing to share?” she asks.
“Yeah, that’s about it,” I nod.
She slouches in her chair and sighs, “I guess.”
“Good, because that’s all you’re getting’.”
JoJo and I are drinking brewskies, catching up, and laughing our asses off. The pain and emotional wreck I’ve been is beginning to fade. I tell her about Kyle’s goofy ass and how I miss him. She tells me about her endless break-ups and how no one can handle all she’s packin’.
Then she brings up a name; the person I brought her here to talk with her about. “What about
Allie? Have you been by to see her?”
I nod. “Actually, that’s why I needed to see you. You know, get some guidance. You’re a chick, right?”
She laughs and grabs each of her breasts. “Yeah, I’d say so.” Thankfully, she’s like one of the guys. Jordan grabbing her breasts is no different than one of the boys flipping their dick.
JoJo and I drink our beers, and I explain my situation with Lacy and Allie. Just as Jordan’s opening her mouth to give me some feedback, I see a perfectly-round, tan belly peeking out from a tight white top. I lift my eyes and come face to face with Allie, scowling viciously between me and Jordan. “Hey, Al, this is Jordan,” I introduce, standing from my chair and placing my hand to the small of Allie’s back. Allie and Jordan have never officially met. I would talk about Jordan to Allie, but I think Allie believed she was just one of the guys.
“And I’m the girl who doesn’t give a fuck,” she snarls, slapping my arm away and stomping to the bar.
Of course, I chase after her. “Allie, wait. It’s not what you think,” I try to explain.
“Like I said, I don’t give a flying fuck that you’re here with some bitch after proclaiming your undying love for me. Even if it was only two hours ago,” she seethes between her teeth.
“Will you calm down and just listen?” Taylor comes over and hands her a white to-go box. She goes to pay him, but he refuses and tells her it’s on him. She reaches up and gives him a peck on the cheek and a gen
uine smile. She thanks him and attempts to walk away, but I refuse to let her leave without hearing my explanation. “I’m not here with her. She’s just a friend. Baby, listen.”
“Don’t call me baby! Honestly, I don’t care who you’re here with. It just took me off guard running into you,” she lies.
I take a few steps toward her and take her face into my hands. “You may not care, but I do. She’s a friend from college, okay? No interest in her, at all. I’ve already told you, you’re the only one for me,” I remind her, placing a kiss to her forehead. Her breath hitches as my lips warm her skin. When I pull back to look into her eyes, I notice they’re closed. “Butterfly, open your eyes,” I urge.
“Remove your hands from my face,” she whispers. I do as she instructs, and she takes off toward the exit, running into Jordan before she makes it to the door.
“I think you got the wrong impression of me, over there,” JoJo says, nodding to the table where I introduced them. “I’m an old friend,” she informs.
“Really? Because I know all of his friends, and you aren’t one that I remember,” Allie snaps.
“Honey, if you’re worried about me being a threat to y’alls situation, don’t. No offense, Wyatt, but beat meat freaks me out,” Jordan assures her, crinkling her nose in disgust. Allie remains silent as if she needs JoJo to write what she’s trying to announce on paper. “Darlin’, I’m lesbian. Not interested in that,” she assures, motioning up and down my crotch.
Allie’s face relaxes. “Good for you. Now, if you’d kindly move out of my way, I have an ultrasound to get to.” Jordan waits for me to give her the go ahead before she steps aside. As soon as Jordan moves, Allie’s gone, on the way to see her babies with a man who should be me.
Sixteen
~Allie~
God, the nerve of that man, thinking he has the right to touch me and call me baby. And, damn these cravings. I knew I should’ve settled on a burger, but when I get the taste for something specific, like Duck’s wings, nothing else is appetizing. All I wanted was to run in and out, get my lunch, and head to the hospital. The last person I expected to see was Wyatt, having lunch with another woman.