Letting Go (Healing Hearts)

by Michelle Sutton

  “How long ago did she pass away?”

  “Three months after Joey came to live with us. So that was about a year and a half ago, give or take a few months. We wanted to adopt a child, and God provided Joey. My wife really wanted to have a child of her own, but it wasn’t physically possible. So we became foster-adoptive parents. We hoped a young child needing a family might be placed with us and eventually become legally free to adopt.”

  Diane studied the notes she’d jotted on the legal pad in front of her. His wife had probably been infertile. No doubt he’d want a wife who could give him a biological child.

  She glanced up, absently tapping her pen on the pad. “Are you planning to get married again?”

  He grunted. “I doubt it. But if I ever change my mind, those plans will have to wait until Joey’s adoption is final. Nothing is going to stand in my way of becoming his daddy. I can’t lose him and let the State place him with his birth mother. Can you see why I’m so desperate?”

  “I think so. But that still doesn’t tell me why you need a lawyer. So your caseworker doesn’t like you. It’s not only her decision to make.”

  Dave cleared his throat. “I know, but I have to have legal representation in case they decide to take him from me and place him somewhere else. His caseworker won’t even allow me to be with him when he goes to visit his mother. She has implied several times that Joey being with me is somehow interfering with the reunification process because he’s too bonded to me now. How is that a bad thing?”

  “It’s not. It’s wonderful that he has bonded with you. I can see your concern, and I believe it has merit. The State can’t legally remove him from your home to place him in another foster home without a hearing because you’re certified to adopt. It can’t hurt to be prepared just in case they try something like that.”

  “Then you agree with me?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  The hopeful look in his eyes stirred her blood. He was different from any man she’d ever met, and she wanted to know him better. Too bad he was going to be her client. She couldn’t develop a personal relationship with a man she was working with. Not for any reason.

  “Thank God.” Dave exhaled.

  “How have visits with his mom been going?”

  “That’s the worst part. Joey starts crying the moment he sees his case manager. I have to be the bad guy and put him into her car because he fights her. Then he comes home looking like a sad zombie. He has no appetite and looks at me with the most pitiful look in his eyes. I feel like I’m slowly killing him. I—” His voice broke, and he looked up, then down again. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so emotional, but I really love my son. I can’t lose him.” He covered his face with his hands and blew out a breath.

  “I understand, Mr. Passel. I’d feel the same way if it were me.” She reached across the desk and touched his arm.

  He glanced up. “Thanks, and please call me Dave. I hate being referred to as Mr. Passel. It makes me feel old.”

  She chuckled. “Okay, Dave. Then I’ll ask you to do the same and call me Diane.”

  His eyes searched hers, lingering with a vulnerable expression that caused her heart to beat double time. Remembering the tender exchange with his son at the party, she wished he’d look at her that way, as if he adored her. But he needed someone to help him win his case, and she didn’t want to interfere with that plan by letting her emotions get in the way. She decided right then to make sure she didn’t let him down.

  “You’ll be in good hands. I promise.”

  Dave pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose and exhaled again. “I have to do something. I can’t sit by and let them hurt Joey.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

  He leaned forward and held her gaze. “I almost forgot to tell you—they re insisting I call him Jack. His mother changed his birth certificate, and now I’m supposed to call him that. That’s just crazy. The poor boy is so confused.”

  She stood and swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she considered his predicament. Keeping her voice cheerful, she said, “I’ve got your back. I’ll win your case.”

  Dave rose from his chair, blinking with astonishment. “You will? I—Are you sure you can?”

  “I'll do my best to make sure that no one takes your son from you.”

  “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much.” He pumped her hand enthusiastically, continuing to hold on even after he stopped. Placing his other hand over hers, he held her gaze and whispered huskily, “If you can help me keep my son, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

  Diane smiled, her heart warming at the hope in his voice. Her knees weakened from his intense stare, and she had to remind herself who he was: her client.

  “I’ll have my secretary draft a list of fees for my services, and we’ll meet again, let’s say next Friday at ten, to discuss the details of your case. Are you game?” She winked and gave him her most charming grin.

  “Most definitely. I’ll see you then.”

  His broad smile revealed straight, white teeth and a slight dimple in his left cheek. He turned and headed out the door.

  She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she exhaled. Relaxing and rolling her shoulders one at a time, she pondered the details of their meeting and concluded that she had chosen the perfect career. Helping children by keeping them with parents who loved and protected them had been her original motivation for entering law school. Now every time she won a case and a child benefited, an indescribable satisfaction caused her spirit to soar.

  Having a handsome client who needed her was just frosting on the cake.

  Chapter 11

  Jeanine entered Diane’s office the moment Dave left. “What a hunk! Is he single? What’s he like?”

  Diane snorted and tapped her fingers, “Jeanine, need I remind you of two things? One, you already have a boyfriend, and two, I can’t tell you personal information about my clients. So don’t ask.”

  “Touchy, touchy. I saw him drive off in a Beamer. Well, at least I know he’s rich without you having to tell me. It’s obvious.”

  “Having a BMW doesn’t necessarily make you rich. It just means you like nice cars.” Diane chuckled. “You know, like me. I drive a Mercedes, but I’m not rich.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jeanine rolled her eyes. “Ask someone who drives a 1982 station wagon because she can’t afford a new car. Trust me. You’re rich,” she huffed and closed the door.

  Diane shook her head. The young woman’s financial struggles had nothing to do with her salary, which happened to be quite generous for her position. It had more to do with the four mouths she had to feed at home and from living with another unemployed boyfriend.

  Jeanine’s children—two sets of twins, ages two and four respectively, were a real handful. Diane marveled at how well her young receptionist coped. It seemed so unfair, though. What Diane wouldn’t do to be able to bear one child! But there would always be people like Jeanine, people who tried everything they could short of sterilization to prevent pregnancy, yet they still conceived.

  Diane sighed. Glancing at her calendar, she noted no more appointments for the rest of the day. Now she could finally catch up on some of her paperwork. She pressed the intercom button on her phone.

  “Jeanine, can you grab some coffee?”

  “Sure. I’ll head over to the Coffee House. Be back in a flash. Want the usual?”

  “No. I think I’ll take something different this time. Get me something with chocolate, like mocha. I’m in the mood for something sweet today.”

  Diane released the button and propped her feet on her desk. She wasn’t quite ready to attack the pile yet. Leaning back in her chair, she stretched and closed her eyes.

  Her thoughts drifted until the image of her handsome new client filled her mind. A grin spread across her face as she imagined him asking her out to dinner before he left. She accepted, of course. That evening he pulled up in front of her house in his BMW and o
pened the car door for her. He climbed in beside her and placed his hand on her thigh.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my son with me. I wanted him to meet his new mother.”

  Turning to smile at the boy, she gasped, stunned. The car seat was empty.

  “Dave, I don’t see him.”

  He turned and cried in horror, “He’s gone. Oh God, I’ve lost him. Joey!”

  She blinked back tears, unsure of what to do.

  Turning toward Diane, he pointed in her face. “I’ll never forgive you for this. I lost my son, and it’s your fault. You should have won my case.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks. “I tried, Dave. I tried!”

  “I never should’ve trusted you. My gut instinct was right. You may be beautiful, but you have no brains.” His sneering tone made her gasp.

  He squeezed just above her knee and ran his hand up her inner thigh. “You owe me now, baby.”

  She shuddered as his face morphed into her father’s. “You’re hot, honey, but you’re really stupid. It’s a good thing you’re a looker. Come here. Sit on Daddy’s lap. That’s my girl. Now give Daddy a yummy kiss.”

  A rap on her door jolted her awake. Her heart hammered frantically, and she blinked back tears. Hurriedly removing her feet from the desk, she sat up straight.

  When Jeanine entered the room, Diane sighed with relief. It was just a dream. A horrible, frightening dream.

  Jeanine set the steaming cup on Diane’s desk. “I hope you like it. I had them give you a double shot.”

  “That will be fine, Jeanine. Thanks.”

  But will I be fine? I feel like I’m losing my mind.

  * * *

  Dave left Diane’s office with a spring in his step. She said she’d take his case. More than that, she’d said she’d win it. Now Joey had a chance. Hope swelled within him.

  After exiting the building he gave the air a victory punch. He could almost taste his upcoming success in court. No one would take his son from him without a fight. No one.

  When he’d approached Katia and her fiancé after Sunday morning service last week, he had been afraid to hope. But after Katia shared her story with him, including how she’d gotten her son back, a supernatural peace had filled his heart. In an answer to prayer, God had used Katia to direct him to Diane. Their positive interaction minutes ago confirmed it. She appeared to be more than eager to represent him. Of course, he’d be paying her a lot of money to do it. But something told him she wasn’t doing her job for the money.

  Smiling to himself, he recalled the stunned expression on her beautiful face when he first entered her office. Used to getting similar looks from women, he thought nothing of it—at first. Then he remembered where he’d seen her.

  She was the gorgeous woman with the sad eyes who had bumped into him at the New Year’s Eve party at Rachel’s house. The woman whose expression had stirred his blood when she stared at him, looking so lost, right before she took off without a word. Maybe she had recognized him, too, but didn’t say anything because she was embarrassed about running into him.

  When he’d told Diane his story he had tried not to stare at her mouth—to treat his appointment like a business meeting, but it proved difficult. She distracted him with her incredible perfume and beautiful gold-and-hazel eyes. Her warm response had caused his pulse to kick up a notch. Working with Diane Simmons would be amazing, but difficult. He couldn’t let her silky hair and alluring perfume distract him from his urgent task at hand—saving Joey.

  Since Merilee had passed away, he hadn’t allowed himself to be attracted to a woman. Usually he barely noticed them. But Diane was an impossible beauty to ignore. She was all woman, and that fact reminded him that he was still a single man. Keeping their relationship strictly business would be hard—more than any relationship he’d engaged in the past year. But she had great references, and he didn’t feel comfortable calling a lawyer out of the phone book without a recommendation, so he didn’t have a choice.

  Surely someone as gorgeous as Diane had to have a significant other. Besides, a classy lady like her would never be interested in a single father with a toddler son, and definitely not a sterile man. He refused to even entertain the notion that she might find him attractive. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

  Getting emotionally involved with a woman who desired a biological child of her own would be a disaster. From what he could tell, Diane fit that mold. She looked healthy and young. He refused to destroy another woman’s chance at happiness because he couldn’t father a child.

  Too many nights he and Merilee had fought about their inability to conceive. She’d blamed him because he couldn’t get her pregnant and on more than one occasion implied that she regretted marrying him. That cut so deep it left very little room for affection. He sensed her anger every time he touched her. Marriage had been tough, and it wasn’t something he cared to do again.

  Before they were married he hadn’t known he couldn’t have children, so he hadn’t deceived her when he promised his life to her. But that didn’t matter to Merilee. She had only cared about the fact that she could never conceive as long as she remained his wife. She had even considered divorcing him—and told him as much several times—until he finally agreed to artificial insemination through a sperm donor at a fertility clinic.

  That same afternoon her car had plunged into a ravine. The police said it appeared to be a freak accident caused from driving too fast in the rain, but he didn’t buy it. She was too distraught when she left the house, but it made no sense because she’d won the fight. He’d given in to her demands, yet she was still sobbing when she drove off. For weeks before the accident she wouldn’t let him touch her, and he’d wondered if she was trying to punish him for some reason. Now he’d never know.

  He inhaled deeply when he arrived at Katia’s home. Releasing a calming breath, he rang the bell, shivering in the cold. White puffs of cool mist escaped his lips when he exhaled. He breathed on the window and drew a smiley face.

  She opened the door. “What are you doing to my window?” Laughing with her hand on her hip, she turned and yelled, “Joey, your daddy is here!”

  Little feet pounded on the floor, echoing down the hall as Joey and Katia’s son, Alex, ran into the foyer. Dave squatted on his haunches, and Joey threw himself into his arms with a whoop. Laying his head on Dave’s shoulder, he snuggled and inserted his thumb in his mouth. Dave tipped his head and planted a kiss on little Joey’s cherub-like cheek.

  “Love you, Joey.”

  “Wuv you, Dathy,” he said around his thumb.

  Dave stood up, holding Joey close. “Thanks for watching him. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime. You know I love watching Joey. He’s so adorable.” She chucked Joey’s chin, making him giggle.

  He squirmed away from her fingers, grinning and batting at her hand. “ ’Top it.”

  “So how did it go with Diane today? Did she take your case?”

  “Yes, and I’m really pumped about it. Now I have a chance. But I do have a bone to pick with you. You didn’t tell me she’s a flippin’ knockout.”

  Katia gave him a sly smile. “You never asked.”

  “Don’t give me that. And don’t even think about setting me up with her. I’m not getting involved with another woman for a very long time.”

  She smirked at him. “Uh, huh.”

  “Whatever. I don’t care if you believe me or not. I know exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Uh huh.” Katia grinned. “You just bring Joey by anytime you need to meet with her. I’ll do it for you—free of charge.”

  “Okay, thanks. Come on, Joey, let’s move it.”

  Dave lifted the boy from his chest and placed him on his shoulders. Joey wrapped his legs around Dave’s neck, pinning his knees against Dave’s ears. Dave held Joey’s thighs to steady him as he raced toward the car.

  Katia’s four-year-old-son Alex called out after them. “Bye, Joey. Come over and play ’
gain, ’kay?”

  “ ’Kay,” Joey giggled, pulling at Dave’s hair as Dave continued to skip and bounce, causing him to teeter from side to side.

  “Ouch, yer pullin’ my hair out, boy!”

  Joey shrieked and tugged even more.

  * * *

  After paying her counseling fee, Diane wrung her hands and waited for her first appointment with a therapist. The middle-aged red-headed receptionist—probably the man’s wife from the looks of the photo on her desk—glanced at Diane over her reading glasses.

  “Have a seat. I’ll let Dr. Rhiner know you’re here.”

  Diane sat as the woman pushed a button on her phone and announced, “Honey, Ms. Simmons is ready to meet with you.”

  Wiping her sweaty palms on her slacks, Diane tried to focus on the painting in the waiting room rather than on her fear. Her partner at the law firm had the same painting in his office. It was titled “The End of a Perfect Day.”

  What she wouldn’t do to experience a perfect day in her life. Just one.

  To pass the time, she studied the painting, wondering what kind of family would live in such a peaceful cottage. How would they experience the end of a perfect day? Maybe they’d sit by the fireplace together, enjoying hot cocoa as a family, just talking to each other. How nice that would be to relax and enjoy good conversation with someone rather than going to her condo alone every night after work.

  “Hello. Diane Simmons?”

  She glanced up. “Dr. Rhiner?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Let’s go to my office and talk, shall we?”

  She followed the tall, middle-aged man down the hall. He gestured for her to take a seat, then eased into the chair across from her. The table next to Diane held an interesting assortment of magnetic puzzles. She picked one up and played with the stars clinging to the black base, suddenly afraid to talk.

  “So, Diane, what brings you here? Does it have to do with your suicide attempt?”

  She set the puzzle down and glanced up. “It’s hard for me to talk about, but I can’t afford to get depressed and return to the hospital, so I’ll get straight to the point. I’m still taking anti-depressants. They help some, but now I’m having these strange dreams. Last week I dreamed about a guy who came to my office. We were talking in his car, and then his face morphed into my father’s and he said something horrible to me.”