The Thin Wall

by E. M. Parker

  “The remainder of this meeting will be joyless and humor-free,” he mused. “Scout’s honor.”

  The irony of that statement bringing a smile to Fiona’s face was not lost on her.

  “And what was it you were saying about the little girl?” he continued.

  “It sounded like she was crying.”

  “Did she say anything when the parents came into her room?”

  “No.”

  “Did they say anything to her?”

  “No.”

  “That’s odd.”

  Two points for Captain Obvious, Fiona thought, more annoyed than she probably should have been. “Honestly, I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “I hear you. Let’s hope they got it all out of their system.”

  Fiona found herself staring at Paul’s perfect family again. “Let’s hope so.”

  After a long silence, Paul reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thin manila envelope. “I suppose we should get down to business.”

  Fiona straightened up in her chair.

  “First off, I want to thank you for coming in on such short notice,” he continued. “I realize that it may be a bit unusual meeting like this, especially on a Sunday, but we have to be as prepared as possible for what’s coming.”

  “I understand.”

  “And part of that preparedness is letting you know just how difficult this fight is going to be. If I’m being honest, ‘difficult’ may not be a strong enough word to describe what we are actually up against.”

  Fiona had trouble swallowing the large knot that suddenly formed in her throat. “I’ve never been under any illusions that it was going to be easy.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. It’s like I told you during our initial consultation. My job is to represent you and your interests to the best of my ability, and I plan to do just that. But I’m not here to sugarcoat the situation in any way. The fact of the matter is that you are one of the handful of female clients I have ever represented who were on the wrong end of a child custody decision. It’s quite rare in divorce proceedings that mothers end up losing parental rights to the extent that you have. The Washington state courts were firm in their ruling, and the stipulations for amending that ruling were explicit. The burden of proof to show that those stipulations have been met is squarely on you, and regardless of the outcome of this meeting with your ex, the court’s decision is binding. I just don’t want you going into this with any false hopes.”

  “It’s been a year since that decision, Paul. I’ve done everything asked of me in that time to prove that I’m a fit mother. I’ve completed treatment, stayed active in a program, taking all their classes and their weekly U.A.s. I’ve been a walking public service announcement for what not to do if you ever have designs on being a good parent. I’ve met their stipulations and then some, so I don’t think I’m coming into this with any false hopes. I’m coming into this knowing that I’m finally ready to be a full-time presence in my son’s life again.”

  It was a speech that Fiona had been prepared to give ever since she made the decision to pack up what remained of her existence and follow her ex-husband Kirk and eight-year-old son Jacob to a new state, and what Kirk had undoubtedly hoped would be a new life. As the primary guardian, he was fully within his rights to move Jacob wherever he wanted, without so much as a whisper to Fiona of his intentions. As it turned out, Kirk did inform her of his intentions – through a letter sent to the facility where she was carrying out her second stint of court-ordered alcohol rehabilitation. By the time she completed the sixty days, Jacob and Kirk were gone.

  This meeting would mark the first time that she had seen her ex-husband in over ten months. Nothing in their recent history suggested that Fiona should feel anything approaching optimism about what could come from such a meeting, but optimism was the only thing she had to hold on to. Paul had referred to it as false hope.

  “I completely understand that, and on the surface, I agree with you. But let me play devil’s advocate for a moment.”

  Fiona didn’t like the sound of that. “Okay.”

  “What if I told you that this may not be the best course of action right now?”

  Her eyes grew wide with surprise and disappointment. The knot in her throat expanded. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure you probably heard the same thing from your lawyer in Seattle.”

  It suddenly dawned on her. “She said I shouldn’t come here yet.”

  Paul nodded. “And did you at least consider taking her advice?”

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. America, at least the last time I checked, is a free country. I can go anywhere I want.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” Paul took a deep breath to measure himself. “Obviously, you can go wherever you want. I’m just not sure about the timing of your coming here. It’s been nearly eleven months since Kirk was awarded custody. Before that, the two of you were tied up in divorce proceedings for the better part of a year. The court was very explicit about visitation and the level of contact you were to have with Jacob.

  Paul began reading from a copy of the summary judgment he had pulled from the manila envelope. “You are to have no unsupervised contact with him unless and until you receive written approval and have shown sufficient progress in your–”

  Fiona cut him off. “I’m fully aware of the ruling, and I know what’s required of me. And as I’ve already told you, I’ve spent the better part of a year in compliance.” She didn’t need a mirror to know that her cheeks had turned bright red. It happened every time she got angry or embarrassed. Right now, she was both.

  “Why not initiate proceedings from Seattle? Why come here? Your son has only been in Denver a short time, and he’s most likely still adjusting. Granted, I don’t know the entire situation, but I can imagine that the move was difficult for him. Regardless, he’s finally adapting to his new normal, and your sudden appearance could bring the unintended consequence of thrusting him back into another battle between you and your ex-husband. I’m assuming you didn’t inform Kirk before you decided to come.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m sure he wasn’t happy about that.”

  “Who gives a damn if he’s happy?” Fiona snapped in an involuntary outburst that surprised her.

  A long silence.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right,” Paul offered with a thin smile.

  “I’m just so frustrated. Everything has been about him. Kirk is the fit parent. I’m the alcoholic degenerate. How wonderful it is that he is willing to step up. What about me? I’m Jacob’s mother. He needs me just as much as he needs Kirk.” Fiona reached for the box of tissue on Paul’s desk. “I’ve thought about this for a long time, okay? I didn’t just drive out here on a whim. I wouldn’t be pursuing this if I wasn’t one hundred percent committed. Believe me, I am one hundred percent committed.”

  “Okay, I’m convinced,” Paul said as he held his hands up. “I had to ask those questions because they are the same ones that Kirk and his lawyer are likely to ask. The meeting will be informal. It’s not a deposition, so you won’t be cross-examined, but in some ways, it may feel like it. I wanted to see how you would hold up under that kind of pressure.”

  Fiona’s nerves began to settle and the burning in her cheeks subsided. “So, did I pass?”

  “We still need to smooth out the edges a bit, but it’s a good start. I appreciate your passion, and in the long-run it will serve you well. But the name of the game here is diplomacy. At the end of the day, you and Kirk want the same thing. The question is how you both can best achieve that goal.”

  “We have to work as a team,” Fiona declared, not sure if such a thing were even possible.

  Paul smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”

  “It’s a two-way street though. I can’t be the only one willing to play ball.”

  “Exactly, and we’ll work on that. But as I said, my only focus right now
is getting you prepared.”

  Fiona was already as prepared as she was going to be. “So where do we start?”

  “You’ve already gotten things rolling by getting in an apartment so quickly. I’m still not sure how you scored such a great deal in this crazy rental market, but hats off.”

  Based on what she had experienced in her first few hours there, Fiona would be hard-pressed to call Corona Heights a great deal. “Sure beats sleeping in my car.”

  “Indeed. Any movement on the job front?”

  “No. I’d hoped to get something in place before I moved out here, but so far the pickings have been pretty slim.”

  “What are you doing for money?”

  “The trust from my parents is providing enough of a cushion for six months rent, and your fee. I’ve got a little savings beyond that, but nothing that will sustain me long-term.”

  “Even more reason to get moving on that job search. Six months will go by much faster than you realize.”

  “I know,” Fiona answered, bracing for the inevitable lecture that was to follow.

  “And what about a program?”

  “Haven’t found one yet.”

  “That should be your top priority. Your ability to commit to a twelve-step support group, especially when you do so under your own initiative, will speak volumes to the court, and your ex-husband.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Let’s try and get something lined up before we meet with him. Will that be possible?”

  The burning in Fiona’s cheeks returned. This time it was fueled more by embarrassment than anger. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good. And one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “No contact with Kirk or Jacob before the meeting.”

  Fiona feigned outrage at the suggestion. “I’m not that stupid.”

  “It’s not about being stupid. It’s about fighting an urge that has fueled your every action for the past year. It’s about being patient in a situation where patience seems like the most absurd practice imaginable. It’s about not sabotaging your progress by letting instinct cloud your judgement.”

  “I have no desire to sabotage anything I’ve worked for,” Fiona answered resolutely.

  “Do you promise? No Kirk and most especially no Jacob?”

  Fiona leaned forward in her chair, looking Paul square in his eye. “Scout’s honor.”

  It was the first time in their brief relationship that she’d lied to him.

  As her eyes refocused on his perfect family, she waited patiently for at least a twinge of guilt to rise in her chest.

  It never came.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THANKS TO SOME RUDIMENTARY ONLINE detective work, Fiona had Kirk’s address before she ever set foot in Denver. And despite her scout’s honor pledge to Paul, she had the directions to Kirk’s house plugged into her cell phone before she left his office. Confident that he hadn’t yet changed his phone number (Kirk was a creature of habit much like she was), Fiona had considered calling him ahead of her visit; a whimsical notion that she thought better of almost immediately. She then considered the more direct approach of ringing the doorbell of his newly constructed townhouse and hoping for the best. She dismissed that idea even faster than the phone call.

  That left her with only one viable option: good old-fashioned stalking.

  For the duration of her thirty-minute drive from Paul Riley’s downtown office to Kirk’s Northeast Denver address, Fiona had considered the range of scenarios that she could encounter, and the outcomes inherent in each. Aside from the heartfelt, tear-filled reunion that was the stuff of her fantasies, not one of those outcomes was good.

  Yet she made the drive anyway, fueled as much by the sense of empowerment that the act gave her as the idea of seeing the two people she loved the most in the world.

  Despite everything, she did still love Kirk. She loved him for the man she met twelve years ago, when she was a happy, idealistic journalism school graduate in awe of his prodigious success as a Seattle Seahawks beat reporter. She loved him for being the man who stuck by her through those early years, when denial of her drinking problem slowly gave way to acceptance and confidence that she would beat it. She loved him for being the man who stepped up as the singular face of stability in Jacob’s life when she could no longer do her part. The ticket on their marriage had been stamped long ago, but some small part of her was still naïve enough to believe that civility could exist between them. Showing up on his doorstep out of the blue, however, was not going to aid in that cause.

  Instead, she parked at what she considered to be a safe distance from his house and waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was for a glimpse of what their new life looked like; perhaps a sign that Jacob wasn’t happy with that new life; perhaps confirmation that her coming here was the absolute right thing to do, despite everyone else’s opinion to the contrary. Perhaps it was a combination of everything.

  What she wanted most was to see her son.

  Most of the scenarios that Fiona imagined during the drive here involved him. What would the first words spoken between them sound like? Would Jacob even recognize her? Things change so quickly in a child’s life. He could have already adjusted to an existence without a mother, his mind able – out of will or necessity – to push away all memories of the previous eight years. She knew that wouldn’t be an entirely bad thing. Jacob had experienced things, in the past year especially, that no child should ever have to endure. But the thought of her own son not remembering her was a wretched one, sending shockwaves of pain and nausea throughout her body.

  Stop being ridiculous, Fiona. You’re his mother. You gave birth to him. Of course he remembers you.

  She kept her eye trained on the front door for the better part of an hour before resigning herself to the fact that the glimpse she was hoping for was not going to happen.

  Spurred on by an overwhelming embarrassment that masked itself as disappointment, Fiona started her car and pulled away from the curb. She drove slowly as she passed Kirk’s townhouse, looking for any signs of activity. There were none.

  She let out a deep sigh of relief at the prospect that no one was there to see her making such a desperate fool of herself. Dodged your first bullet, Fiona. Now go home, get your mind right, and do this thing the right way.

  She was prepared to do just that when something in the rearview mirror caught her attention. Though it was still some distance away, Fiona recognized Kirk’s candy-apple red Jeep Cherokee the instant she saw it. A glance at the front Washington state license plate confirmed it.

  Shit.

  Resisting the urge to speed away, Fiona idled at the end of the block, watching through the rearview mirror as Kirk pulled into a spot in front of his house. He emerged from the driver’s side and walked around to retrieve something out of the back. Her vision momentarily obscured, Fiona reversed her car a few feet. She ran the very real risk of being spotted, but she didn’t care. From her new vantage point, she could see Kirk picking up bags of groceries, a deep smile on his face. He was engaged in an animated conversation with someone. Fiona had assumed it was Jacob and she held her breath as she waited for him to appear.

  She let out an audible gasp when he emerged from the passenger’s side door, a smile equal in depth to his fathers on his bright, handsome face.

  He had grown an inch or two in the time since Fiona had last seen him; tall for his age, much as she imagined Kirk had been. His sandy brown hair had grown a couple of inches. It framed a thin, freckled face and deep, cavernous dimples – the same dimples that made her fall in love with Kirk. His frame was a little sturdier, as if he had put on weight – still perfectly normal, but she noticed it nonetheless.

  Fiona noticed everything about him, most notably how happy he looked. The thought stirred something unexpected in her. For the first time, she wondered if she was truly doing the right thing by coming here. Despite her self-reassurance, maybe Jacob had moved on; forgotte
n her completely. Children could be incredibly resilient, their defense mechanisms much more powerful than an adults’. Maybe Jacob had grown to accept that his mother was a worthless drunk, incapable of taking care of herself, much less him, and he had made peace with that. Fiona was positive that he had asked Kirk questions, and she was equally positive that Kirk had very little to say about her that was good. Coming back now, as Paul warned, might only upset the balance in Jacob’s life that had surely been restored.

  Fiona had no doubts as she packed away her life in Washington to make the two-day drive here, bringing nothing with her except pictures of Jacob, a few pieces of furniture, a ten-day wardrobe, and a ton of hope. But now doubt was beginning to settle in. She did her best to push it aside.

  There’s no room for second-guessing now. Remember the promise you made to yourself. It’s all about him. Despite what some judge, even his father, says about it. Jacob needs you in his life. And you need him in yours. Badly.

  As Kirk and Jacob made their way to the front door, Fiona made a move to get out of her car. She wanted nothing more than to grab her son, squeeze him, and never let go. She wanted to imagine the excitement on his face when he saw her, and the thrill they both would feel as she told him that instead of going inside to put away groceries with his father, the two of them would spend the day together, drinking hot chocolate and eating sausage and mushroom pizza, Jacob’s favorite. He would fill Fiona in on his new school and the scores of friends he had already made; they would talk about soccer or baseball or whatever newfound interest he had picked up, and all would instantly be right in both of their worlds. Like the last year and a half never happened.

  But Fiona knew that was nothing more than the fantasy scenario she had concocted on the ride over here. The reality, she knew in her heart of hearts, would be much different.

  She drew a quick, deep breath, bit her lip to keep from crying, and looked away. Her attention fell on a group of teenagers crossing the street in front of her. They glanced in the car as they passed. One of them, a long-legged boy with equally long dreadlocks looked at Fiona with a hint of concern. Despite her best efforts, she was sobbing uncontrollably.