Beyond 4/20

by Heaton, Lisa

  John stood there staring at Tuck, waiting for something, some indication that Tuck might allow him to step in and help. After an awkward moment, John finally said, “Just say the word.”

  No amount of pride would ever stand in the way of doing what was best for Lucy. Tuck sighed heavily, and feeling a sense of hope for the first time, he said, “Do something.”

  “Consider it done.”

  John turned with the intention of sending Lucy out to her dad. He had calls to make, a team to assemble.

  As he watched John walk up the stairs, his attitude one of strong purpose, Tuck said, “Tell Chelsea I’m praying for her.”

  John stopped, turned, and said, “Come in and tell her yourself.” He smiled at Tuck, trying to make him feel welcome.

  Tuck followed him up the stairs and when they got near the door, John turned to him, saying, “I can’t keep this from her, but I’ll wait until Lucy is gone and tell her later tonight.”

  “Lucy doesn’t know.”

  “She’ll never have to.”

  John was already determined to do whatever it took to prevent things from going any further than the petition in his hand.

  Chelsea was surprised to see Tuck come in and even more surprised when he took a seat near her. Clearly he wasn’t upset about Lucy as big sister.

  She smiled, saying, “Hey. How are you?”

  “I’m doing all right. I think I should be asking how you are.”

  Before sitting down Tuck was tempted to hug Chelsea. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do, but he didn’t. Since she had been married to John, he had embraced her too many times already. It wasn’t right, since he knew what was still in his heart for her, so he had committed to the Lord to never do it again. After that night with Allison, over the course of the summer, he had felt convicted about much more than his treatment of her and his sin against God. Eventually, the fact that he had envisioned Chelsea as he lay in the darkness with Allison became something the Lord dealt with him severely about. Tuck had to acknowledge how he had disrespected both Chelsea and John by doing that, even though they weren’t married yet. Still, they were engaged, committed to one another. He acknowledged how wrong he was for allowing his imagination to conjure up her image, and his cheeks burned at the thought of it.

  “I’m fine right now. The worst part is the headaches. I had one earlier.”

  It was good to see Tuck. She had missed him so much and thought about him each and every day. Sometimes it was something Lucy said and other times it was just that his image danced through her mind, but always she thought of him and prayed for him. Since the holidays they had seen little of him, other than a distant wave from the truck window.

  “Well, you look great.”

  She did. Since knowing she was struggling in her pregnancy, Tuck had anticipated her to look more sickly. Instead, she was simply glowing with new life. Her belly was this perfectly round little basketball shape and her cheeks were fuller than usual. She looked better than great; she was the most beautiful he had ever seen her, but he would never say something like that to her. Glancing over at John, he envied him more than he ever had and his heart burned with longing. What must it be like to have a wife you love, one so kind and beautiful, and to be able to reach over and touch that sweet mound of her stomach? That was what Tuck had to keep himself from doing, touching where her baby was cradled within her.

  John forced himself to sit through the pleasantries but was eager to get to his office. Finally, when Chelsea asked Tuck about the details of his mission trip to the Appalachians, he excused himself, saying he needed to send an email to Irene.

  For a time more, Tuck and Chelsea talked, and thankfully, it felt comfortable to both. Lucy sat in her daddy’s lap with her arms draped around his neck, listening to the same stories he had told her when he returned home a few weeks before. She had stayed with Chelsea and John for the two nights he was away. With the three of them together, sitting there on the sofa, it felt like old times, times prior to John coming for Chelsea. All three thought it but no one dared mention it.

  John returned to the living room after Tuck and Lucy had gone. He hated that he missed telling Lucy good-bye, but he was caught up in building a strategy to fight Lindsey. Besides the calls he wanted Irene to make the following day, John contacted a private investigator and got him started. No matter what it took, he would never allow Lucy to be taken away from her home, or homes rather. Lindsey had no right to try to step back in after being gone for more than six years. There was no excuse for leaving your child as she did.

  “I’m sorry that I missed saying good-bye to Lucy.”

  When John excused himself before, Chelsea was momentarily worried, but the way he smiled at her reassured her he really did have business to conduct and wasn’t leaving because he was upset over Tuck’s presence. In the months since she had been pregnant, John really had become comfortable with how things were. He had finally settled in to his own family, one where Tuck did have a permanent place on the perimeter.

  “She’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I know, but I still hate that I didn’t get a hug.”

  John moved closer to Chelsea on the sofa. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

  “I’m open. What do you want?” She already knew the answer to that.

  “A burger.”

  Wrinkling her nose at him, she said, “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

  When his face fell and he looked at her with pleading eyes, she offered, “How about a turkey burger?”

  He leaned over feigning weakness. “Must. Have. A. Real. Burger.”

  Since her earliest over-zealous diet restrictions, Chelsea had lightened up considerably. As much as she wanted him to stick around, she also wanted him happy while he was around.

  “I’ve been trained by one of the nation’s best negotiators. How about this: You get a burger, but we split fries. I get a milkshake, and you get a few drinks of it.”

  “Deal.”

  John was hoping to enjoy one last meal before telling Chelsea the news about Lindsey. Once she knew, nothing would be okay until he could figure things out. As tempted as he was to keep it from her, he wouldn’t dare. He had always promised her honesty. She had a right to know.

  After dinner, once they got home, they went out back and sat in the swing together. John had tried all night to decide how to most delicately tell Chelsea about the custody case.

  “Whatever it is, you can talk to me. Remember?”

  John had been, not quiet exactly, but out of sorts for most of the evening. While he tried to pretend that nothing was the matter, she knew better. His eyes were heavy, as if reflecting his heart. At first, she believed it was the fact that Tuck came in and sat with her, but that made no sense. He was very welcoming of Tuck when he first entered, almost as if the barrier between them was finally broken.

  John turned in the swing to face Chelsea. “I need to know that you will trust me. When I tell you this, you have to promise that you’ll trust me to take care of it.”

  Scared, now certain that it was a much bigger deal than mild jealousy, she slowly asked, “Take care of what?”

  Taking her hand, he demanded, “First, say you trust me.”

  “You know I trust you.”

  “I have to go to Tulsa to take care of something, but before I tell you what it is, I need you to commit to remaining calm.”

  “I’m getting upset because you won’t tell me!”

  Her heart was pounding, and she was feeling the first signs of a headache coming on.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Lindsey has filed for custody of Lucy.”

  “What?” Chelsea jumped to her feet and John jumped up with her.

  He grabbed her arms and said, “Now, Chelsea, you have to calm down.”

  His
words were pointless. First she paced back and forth, mumbling about Lindsey; then after a few minutes of that, she burst into tears. It was then that John took her into his arms and assured her, “I will make this go away.”

  “Promise,” she demanded.

  “Baby, I promise.”

  Holding her back to look at her, he reminded her, “I want you to take care of my little baby. I need you to take care of my wife. Do you hear me?”

  Nodding, she leaned into him again. Finally, John’s and Tuck’s attitudes when they walked into the house together made a little more sense. They appeared to be at peace. The one thing that could bring them together as allies was Lucy. Chelsea sighed. She did trust John. She had seen him in action too many times not to. He was shrewd in business, and she was certain, as much as this was personal to him, he would attack this problem as if it were billion-dollar merger.

  John woke in the middle of the night experiencing another anxiety attack. Quietly, he got of bed and went downstairs. While he didn’t feel anything more than heart palpitations, it was still very uncomfortable. As he walked down the stairs, he felt a little dizzy. Other than that, he was slowly getting back to normal. Lucy was so heavily on his mind when he went to sleep, no wonder he woke in such a state. Over the past year, she had been such a precious part of his life that he didn’t want to imagine what losing her would be like, especially for Chelsea.

  As Tuck said, Lindsey getting full custody was unlikely, but even partial or shared custody would take Lucy from Chelsea and him. If Tuck could only have Lucy part time, there was no way he would divide that limited time with them. No matter what it took, John was determined to prevent that from happening. Each and every time he thought of Lindsey and her audacity in even filing such a petition, he burned with anger toward her. What kind of woman must she be to have done what she had done?

  He was wide awake and knew he couldn’t possibly get back to sleep, so he went into the study and sat in Chelsea’s overstuffed chair. It was where she sat each morning to read her Bible. Flipping to the Psalms, John began to read, trying to alleviate his anger somehow. Again, he considered Lindsey and how she walked out on Tuck and Lucy. The same question came to mind. What kind of woman must she be? It was then he heard a gentle voice inside that said, “One who needs mercy.”

  John sat very still and listened to see if the voice sounded again. It didn’t. It didn’t need to. The impact was felt. There was a verse in his little devotion book from the day before that came to mind, and though he couldn’t remember where it was located, it said something about seeking justice, loving mercy, and being humble. No, it was walking humbly with your God. That was what it said. John bowed his head and rubbed his chin. His only thoughts over the course of the evening were of annihilating Lindsey. He had the power and the means; he could literally crush her. As far as he could tell, that would be justice. She deserved it for leaving her baby.

  The word deserved triggered a very humbling thought, though. How often had he reminded God that he didn’t deserve the life he was currently living, the happiness he felt with Chelsea? He didn’t, not after the life he had led before her.

  John went to get his devotion book from the kitchen table and looked up the verse. It was Micah 6:8. It read:

  “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

  Originally he had remembered it to say seek justice, but that wasn’t the case at all. Since he wasn’t the man he once was, he couldn’t take the same approach as he once would have. Annihilation and crushing were to be replaced with acting justly and mercifully. That was what the LORD required of him. For the past year he had been seeking what it meant to be wholly surrendered to Jesus. This was his first true test. Having the power and wealth to protect his family, John could use that power, or he could allow God to lead him and be willing to do what He said. That moment of decision was one of the most uncomfortable times of John’s life. Ultimately, though, he had committed to God that he would follow Him no matter where He led. So he would do things His way, but he didn’t have to like it.

  The early hours of the morning was John’s truest brush with the Lord. God reminded him of how much he had changed since he met Chelsea. John was to consider that maybe Lindsey had changed as well. It wasn’t for him to judge her based on her past. He was to see who she currently was. In knowing that he would have to give her the benefit of the doubt, John fully understood the implications. If she was changed, if she sincerely regretted leaving Lucy and wanted a relationship with her, it was her right as her mother. John couldn’t stand in the way of that, no matter what he promised Chelsea. It was the first time he actually considered they might really lose Lucy.

  Later that same morning, eyes burning from lack of sleep but full of determination, John stood in J. Dean Kennedy’s office. He was the attorney on record for Lindsey. The office was shabby, and John felt as if he had stepped back twenty years in time. The décor was that outdated. The assistant who showed him in was less than professional since she openly played solitaire on her computer and seemed put out by John’s arrival. All in all, the man wasn’t running a thriving practice. As he sat, John handed him his card.

  Dean studied the card and then looked up at John. Sure enough, it was him. He had seen him on financial news a time or two. He was a private sort of fellow. You didn’t hear much about him other than when a big merger happened or fell through. Other than that, he stayed out of the limelight.

  “I would like you to represent me here in Tulsa.”

  “You know I specialize in family law?”

  Dean could hardly believe John Keller was there in his office. Without question, there were other attorneys with much better pedigrees than his. Why him? he wondered.

  “I do. This is a personal matter.”

  He took a check out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the desk, saying, “I would like to put you on retainer.”

  Dean reached for the check. He had never seen a check for fifty-thousand dollars addressed to him. In family law, he had never had a reason to see that kind of money passed along to a client. Maybe he should have gone into business law and dealt with the likes of John Keller.

  Looking at John, he said, “Consider me retained.”

  John nodded. “Good.”

  Standing, he moved toward the small window that looked out over a parking lot. The view was of a tire store, not exactly the L.A. skyline.

  “Thing is,” he said as he turned back to Dean, “it may create a conflict with another of your clients.”

  Dean was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and neither did he graduate at the top of his class, but he was at least smart enough to see some caveat coming.

  “How so?”

  Wanting to see his expression when he said the name, John moved in closer and took a seat again. Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, he simply said the name, “Lindsey Aldridge.”

  Dean grimaced. Distasteful mess that was, so without hesitation, he offered, “You want me to drop her? She’s dropped.”

  “I don’t know yet. There may not be a conflict. I just wanted you to consider the possibility.” He leaned back in his chair and said, “I know you can’t break attorney/client privilege, and I wouldn’t ask you to, but is there anything I should know? Any extenuating circumstances with this girl?”

  “If you mean extenuating circumstances that affect this case, I would say the boyfriend.”

  He wasn’t the client, but he was sure the driving force behind the girl’s petition. While he wouldn’t exactly call her blameless, he could tell that the boyfriend was manipulating the situation, and she went right along with it.

  “He’s wanting to open a business of some sort. Auto body, I think.”

  “I suppose he needs money for that?”

  “As you would f
or any new business.”

  “Think this is about money?” John knew he was putting Dean in a bad position by asking.

  Without answering, he answered, “Isn’t everything?”

  Dean had known all along that it was about the money. Lindsey said on several occasions that her ex owned a big farm and could afford child support when she got custody. Once even, Joe or Joey, or whatever the boyfriend’s name was, mentioned that maybe the father would want it to go away badly enough to give them a chunk of the pie - his exact words.

  Since only Lindsey was the client, he added, “The boyfriend is where I would start.”

  John held out his hand. “For me, this isn’t about the money. I’ll do whatever it takes to resolve this. Can I count you in?”

  Glancing at the check on his desk, Dean said, “Absolutely.”

  After his meeting with Dean while his legal team met in the office of one of the top firms in Tulsa, John met with the detective face to face. They agreed to meet in a coffee shop near John’s hotel. He had taken a room in the middle of town so that he would be able to manage all that was underway. Though he didn’t plan to stay the night, as he would never leave Chelsea alone, he needed a place to make calls and plan his next steps.

  “I hope she’s not marrying your son or something.”

  Carl was loading his coffee with artificial sweetener. He had gotten the call the afternoon before with instructions to find out everything he could about the girl. She was a pretty nasty piece of work.

  John surveyed the detective. The man was a heart attack waiting to happen. He could barely fit in the booth, and his shirt was bulging at each button hole. His breathing was shallow, and he had a nose whistle with each short breath.

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  Carl opened the file and began, “She’s got two kids. The oldest lives with her dad. They divorced about five years ago. The other lives with his grandmother. That dad’s in the oil fields in North Dakota, but I don’t think they ever married. Now, she lives with some guy in an apartment south of Tulsa. He’s got a record a mile long. Three years was his last stint, breaking and entering. No record on her, but she’s gone through rehab twice. Filed bankruptcy two years ago. Can’t seem to hold down a job longer than a month or two. She filed for disability for depression. It was denied. She claimed three work-comp suits. Lost all of ‘em. All in all, nice girl.”