by G. Benson
A floorboard creaked. Defensively, Anna crossed her arms over her chest and looked up.
Leaning against the doorframe, Lane stood, watching her. “How you doing?”
Anna shrugged.
Lane nodded.
Stepping into Lane’s space, Anna leant her forehead against Lane’s shoulder, almost sighing as Lane’s arms wrapped around her. Lifting her head up slowly, she pressed her lips to Lane’s, gently. Lane tilted her head to reciprocate.
Anna deepened the kiss, raising her hands up to cup Lane’s face, tongue in her mouth. Responding in kind, Lane didn’t question the urgency, arms tightening around Anna, pushing her backwards. Clothes off, they ended up in Anna’s room, falling onto the bed, skin pressed together.
There was no way Anna would be able to sleep tonight, and she needed to not think. Because the second she did, a pit of nausea started in her stomach and what if I don’t get them back played around her mind like a mantra.
So instead, Anna lost herself in the sound and taste and feel of Lane.
Out of habit, Anna woke up early. For a moment, when she opened her eyes, she expected to see Ella bouncing on the end of the bed and asking for breakfast.
Then the memory of last night hit her like a ton of bricks.
Waking up with Lane for the second morning in a row should have been an enjoyable bonus to a wonderful night. But she couldn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t happening because they’d reached that point or because they’d had a conversation with Ella about it. They hadn’t gotten to talk about Lane staying, about knocking, about how the kids would always come first.
Wanting to escape this feeling, Anna sighed and pulled Lane’s arm tighter around her. Had she been too selfish with her relationship? Prioritised wrong? Thought of herself when she should have been thinking of the kids more? Spent too much time with Lane?
She rolled slightly, taking in the sight of Lane behind her, face soft with sleep, hair dark against the white of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, Anna slid out of bed, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed to the shower. Not wanting to see the toys in the other bathroom, she used her brother’s room. The room was chilly, and she showered and dressed quickly. A glance at her watch told her it was only six. Far too early to achieve anything productive except maybe a call to Hayley, which Anna found she didn’t have the energy for just yet. She needed coffee, and she needed to know the kids were okay. How was she supposed to wait until the next day?
She padded down the stairs, a tug of guilt registering that she hadn’t even set Kym up with pillows or a blanket.
As she got to the bottom of the stairs, an amazing scent hit her nostrils. She followed it to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Kym cooking. The kitchen was clean except for the pan on the stove.
Kym immediately handed her a cup of coffee. “Sit.”
A plate of eggs and bacon appeared in front of Anna the second she sat.
“Eat.”
Anna hesitated.
Spatula poking out ridiculously Kym narrowed her eyes. “Don’t try that look on me. You didn’t have dinner. Eat.”
Anna picked up her fork, making exaggerated movements as she stabbed at a piece of scrambled egg and put it in her mouth, chewing dramatically.
Satisfied that Anna was eating, Kym sat down with her own plate.
On the first bite, Anna had realised she was starving, despite the nausea eating at her stomach. Kym didn’t even raise an eyebrow at how quickly she inhaled her meal, making Anna love her even more.
“Did you sleep?”
Anna shrugged. “Kind of.”
“Have lots of sex to try and distract yourself?”
Anna paused mid-chew.
“You are so predictable.”
Sipping her coffee, Anna wrapped around the warmed china. “Kym,” she stared at the mug, “I have to get those kids back.”
“You will.”
“This is… How did this happen?”
“People are assholes.” Kym reconsidered. “Some people are assholes. Can you call Hayley? Not that I think you should—she’s an asshole, too. But she may have some insight.”
“She’s not an asshole. She made a choice. One I might have made in her position.” She paused. “Probably would have made.”
“I’m your best friend. She broke up with you. I automatically get to think she’s an asshole.” Kym gazed at Anna over her cup. “It’s how this works.”
A small nod was all she could manage. “Okay. I’ll call her, but it’s still early.” She picked up her cup but then suddenly slammed it back down. “This is so frustrating.”
Kym blinked.
“It’s fucking Sunday. Getting hold of a lawyer is going to be impossible. I can’t even call the office to find out if they’re okay until tomorrow. It’s too early to even call Hayley. How the fuck am I supposed to fix this?”
She looked at Kym, eyes pleading.
Fingers grasped Anna’s arm as Kym leant over the table. “Give it a few hours. Lane will call her father as soon as she’s up, and we’ll have the name of an amazing lawyer. You can call Hayley, who may also know someone and will hopefully have some reassuring information. The second you wake up tomorrow, you can start calling child protective services constantly until they answer.” She squeezed Anna’s arm. “I know this isn’t going to help much, but they will be okay. Lorna said they were a nice older couple. The kids will be fine.”
At Anna’s curt nod, Kym leant back in her chair. In companionable silence, they sipped at their cooling coffee.
Anna sat up straighter when she heard Lane coming down the stairs and gave a tight smile as she walked into the room.
After receiving breakfast from Kym with a grateful nod, Lane said, “I just spoke to my father.”
“It’s so early.”
“He’s a big boy; he coped. He’s going to contact his scarily large group of friends and get some names.”
Gratefully, Anna touched Lane’s knee under the table. “Thank you.”
“Anything I can do to help.”
In a slightly more polite manner than Anna had, Lane tucked in to her food. “Thanks, Kym. Starving.” None of them sure what to say, so they sat silently. Distractedly, Anna picked at her fingernail, anxiety building in her stomach. As Lane finished, her phone rang, and she grabbed it out of her pocket.
“Hey, Daddy.” She made eye contact with Anna before standing and wandering out of the room, listening intently.
Kym looked at Anna. “Step one. Things are happening.”
Anna wrapped her hands around her coffee mug, on edge and frustrated.
A few minutes later, Lane walked back in holding her phone.
“All okay?” Anna asked.
“He gave me a name, Scott Matthews. Apparently a renowned family law attorney in Melbourne. I’ll have his contact details. Dad’s going to text them to me.” She cleared her throat slightly. “He’s also well known for working gay and lesbian cases.”
Kym raised her coffee cup. “Awesome.”
“Well, Dad did always like being a superhero.” Lane slid her phone across to Anna, a text with a contact number for Scott Matthews on display. “He said he’s contactable on Sundays from nine.”
The clock showed it was only eight.
From across the table, Kym stood up. “Anna, I’m really sorry but I need to be at work in an hour.”
“Stop looking guilty. We all know you take every on call you can. Go help sad people. I think I’m going to be on the phone most of the day.” Horror swept through her. “God, I need to tell Mum, too. I’ll have to go over there.”
“Will you text me, with any news? Or if I can do anything?”
Anna nodded.
“I mean it, anything at all. Even if it’s just to bring over bottles of wine tonight.”
“I will. I pr
omise.”
Standing up, Kym headed for the door.
“And Kym?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
She smiled at Anna. “There’s no way in hell any of us are going to let them take those kids for good, Anna.”
When she heard the front door close, Anna turned to Lane. “Are you okay with me calling Hayley?”
“Don’t be silly. Sorry if you felt the hand twitch last night. Automatic reaction.” Lane looked at her intently. “Are you okay with calling her?”
“Probably not, normally. She called ages ago, not long after we ended, to ‘check-up.’ I asked her to leave me alone, which she respected. But right now, she’s the only one who might have some answers and I can’t sit here all morning just waiting.”
“I’m supposed to work this morning, too. I was thinking I’d call in sick?”
“As much as I really would like that, didn’t you say there’s heaps of nurses on holiday this week?”
Lane’s face fell. “Oh, yeah.”
“The emergency co-ordinator would skin you alive.”
“He’ll probably do that anyway. He’s that grumpy lately.”
“Probably.”
Lane kissed Anna on the cheek before resting their foreheads together. She stood up.
“Don’t shut down on me, Anna.” The whisper against her skin was so faint she almost missed it.
“What?”
Eyes dark, intense, Lane stared at her. “I can see it. You did it last night and you’ve not completely come back. Which is fine, if that’s what you need to do. This situation is just, painful. But I’m here, okay?”
“I know.” She looked up at Lane, taking her in. “I’m sorry. It’s something I do.”
“I get it. Just, talk to me. Don’t disappear completely.”
“I won’t.” She raised her hand up, taking a fistful of Lane’s shirt and tugging her down, kissing her softly. When she pulled back, Anna said, “Thank you. For being so amazing.”
“Call me, okay? If you need anything? I’ll be able to get away, if I need to.”
“I will.”
Obviously not wanting to go, Lane hovered, half-bent over the table where she’d leant to kiss Anna.
With a tight smile, Anna gave her a gentle push. “Go, or we’ll sit here all day not wanting you to leave.”
At the doorway, she paused. “Seriously—call. I’ll come straight away.”
“I will.”
A moment later, the sound of the front door closing left Anna alone in the silent house.
She sat at the table, food sitting solidly in her stomach.
It was eight a.m. on a Sunday. Normally, they’d be planning something. Ella would be asking for things she wanted to do: the cinema, the zoo, the park, the pool. She’d be full of energy, ideas, kinetic and endearing. Toby would be clambering onto Anna’s lap while she desperately tried to drink a coffee, his face covered in peanut butter. He’d press his sticky hands to her cheeks, kneeling on her legs and grinning at her.
“Na,” he’d say, absolutely delighted that she was there, as she was every morning. He’d press a sloppy kiss to her cheeks, and she’d laugh, tickling him, to make his giggles come out.
Then, cartoons might be on, if Ella had managed to wear her down, or they’d put music on, classics her brother had loved that Anna, in the last few weeks, had started to pull out and play.
Anna had wanted to start telling Ella stories, soon. Not yet, but soon: stories of Jake and her when they’d been kids, brother and sister. About how Jake had hated tomato like Ella and how he could build a fort out of anything. She wanted to tell Ella how Sally had once said that Jasmine was her favourite princess too, and that she’d eat a tomato like an apple.
They’d started to move towards these things, and Anna was so angry the kids weren’t there right now, chattering and loud and happily ruining what could be a peaceful Sunday morning.
The struggle to bring security to their lives had been difficult but worth it. How would they, Ella especially, feel secure again after this, even if Anna managed to get them back? With the memory that someone could turn up at night and take them away planted in her head?
Would this have happened if Cathy hadn’t found out she was gay? If she wasn’t in a relationship, would Cathy still have complained to child services? What complaints of neglect had she put forward, and how had it led to such a dramatic outcome?
The clock ticked loudly in the otherwise silent house. Anna needed to do something. She went upstairs and grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found Hayley’s name and hit call. Hearing Hayley on the voicemail after so long barely registered. At the beep, she left a message.
“Hayley, it’s me, Anna. I’m sorry to call, I just need your help. Or to ask you some stuff. The kids got taken away from me last night and put into foster care. Sally’s crazy mother has told protective services I’m neglecting them.” Anna paused, anger making her voice shake. “I just need to know where I stand. I need them back. Can you call me, if you have a chance? Thanks.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, at a complete loss.
She needed to tell her mother.
Maybe, if they wouldn’t let Anna see the kids tomorrow, they might let Sandra. There was no reason they wouldn’t at least let that happen. Anna, while seething with anger, knew that Lorna had to follow protocol. But she also knew that the system always tried to work in favour of the kids. People got supervised visits who maybe shouldn’t even be allowed them. Surely Anna would get that, or at least her mother could. Kids needed their family, something familiar.
Nodding to herself, she took a deep breath and stood up. She’d go to her mother’s.
Her phone beeped and she looked down. Lane had forwarded the lawyer’s contact details, with possibly twenty x’s at the end. She sent an x back with a thank-you, walked down the stairs, grabbed her bag and keys, and got in the car.
When she pulled into her parents’ driveway, she sat for a minute, hands gripping the steering wheel. Her mother was not going to take this well. Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car, opening the front door to the house without waiting for an answer to her knock, calling down the hallway, “Mum?”
“Anna? Down here!”
In the kitchen, her mother was hovering over a sink full of dishes, her back to Anna.
The sight of her mother’s greying hair piled into a bun was so familiar it sent an ache through Anna’s gut. Sandra glanced over her shoulder briefly.
“Hey, honey. Where’re my grandkids?”
Anna opened her mouth to reply and found she couldn’t.
When she didn’t receive an answer, Sandra turned around, hands wet, and reached for a towel to dry them. “Honey?” She looked at Anna properly, finally, and her hands stopped, towel still clutched in them. Her face paled. “Anna. Where are the kids?”
Anna saw the panic that took over her mother’s eyes and forced herself to answer. “They—they’re okay. They aren’t hurt.”
The expression on her mother’s face didn’t change. “What’s happened then?”
Anna ran her hand through her hair. “Cathy has told child services I was neglecting them. The kids were taken into foster care last night.”
The towel dropped to the floor.
“And, on top of that, she’s petitioned the court for guardianship.”
Sandra’s face was no longer pale—a deep red now streaked over her cheeks. “They’re in foster care? Are they okay?” Her voice was explosive.
“I can’t find out anything until tomorrow, but they’re okay. I think.”
“Why the hell,” Anna had never heard her mother use that word, “would that idiotic woman tell them you were neglecting them?”
Needing to do something, Anna sat at the table.
&n
bsp; Outraged, Sandra didn’t move.
“She showed up a few weeks back, when I had to work late and they were here with you?”
“So?”
“She showed up and,” Anna almost winced, “Lane had stayed over. Cathy kind of accused me of neglecting them then, implying I wasn’t doing what was best for them.”
“That’s not grounds for any of this.”
Anna shrugged. “I think she showed up Friday night, when the kids were here again. She left them a children’s Bible.”
Her mother’s eyebrows shot up, but she stayed silent.
“No one was home that night. Who knows what she told them, Mum.”
Stiffly, Sandra walked to the table and sat opposite Anna. “I still don’t understand how that could mean they get taken?”
“Me too, to be honest. She’s been implying I’m flaunting,” Anna blushed, “sexual partners. The system works quickly, and they have to investigate anything that resembles abuse.”
“That’s just ridiculous. My poor kids.”
Picking at her fingers, Anna shook her head. “God, Mum. They had to pull them both off of me.”
Sandra blanched. “So what’s going to happen?”
“Well, Lane got the name of someone who’s supposed to be an amazing family lawyer. I can call him at nine.”
“I can’t believe that woman has petitioned to take them. And caused so much grief for them by doing this.”
“I know.” Anna bit her lip. “There’ll be a hearing for temporary custody during the week, apparently, to look into the claims made against me and to choose where the kids go until the full custody hearing—which we need now, since she’s petitioned the court.”
Face flushed and eyes glittering, Sandra looked ready to explode. “That woman, is a…” she sought for the right word, “she’s a bitch.”