The Winter We Collided: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Ocean Pines Series Book 2)

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The Winter We Collided: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Ocean Pines Series Book 2) Page 28

by Victoria Denault


  The room is tiny and is already beginning to feel claustrophobic with my sister, brothers, parents, Nova, Cookie, and Jake in here. Bethany walks in with her parents and her fancy, real, fully graduated lawyer. Her parents are just how I remember them. Tall, pale, thin, and bitter. Seriously, you’d think that they brush their teeth with lemon juice every day with that permanent pinched scowl on their faces all the time.

  “I fucking hate them. They always treated you like shit,” Finn whispers under his breath as he stands next to where I’ve finally rooted myself next to the table my lawyer is seated at.

  “I was a drunk who knocked up their daughter and then didn’t marry her,” I whisper back to him. “They believe in loveless marriages, so they don’t get it.”

  Finn doesn’t respond, but he’s staring at me so intensely I can’t help but stare back at him. He shakes his head slowly. “I love you Logan, but at some point, hopefully really soon, you have to stop cutting slack for the people who don’t cut you a damn inch of it.”

  “He’s right, bro,” Declan says from where he’s sitting sandwiched in a row of hard wooden chairs between Terra and Nova. “But let’s just focus on River right now.”

  I nod because I’m not having this argument with them again. Especially not moments before the hearing. Manuel walks in and stands between our two tables. He shakes Bethany’s hand and then mine. “The judge is on his way.”

  He sits in the first row behind Bethany’s side, and I force myself to understand that he’s not picking sides, it’s just she brought no character witnesses, and my side is filled with family. The room is small with only two rows of four seats behind each table. Still, it feels like he’s picking sides. Suddenly, a side door behind the judge’s desk opens and he walks in. It’s not as formal as it is on television dramas. The judge is wearing a robe, but he sits at a desk. It’s large with a leather top, but it’s not a bench. It kind of feels like all the times Finn and I were hauled into the principal’s office. And I hate it as much now as I did then.

  The judge nods a wordless hello at the room and sits. I finally find my place at the table next to my almost-lawyer. “Okay then…” the judge mumbles with a tone so level it almost sounds disinterested. “Logan Hawkins and Bethany Bard regarding the custody of River Charlie Hawkins?”

  We both nod as his brown eyes dart from me to Bethany, and I adjust my tie and try not to twitch. This room smells heavy of wood and floor cleaner, and it’s making me want to sneeze. He looks back down at the file in front of him and starts by asking questions about our history and previous arrangements. Then he calls on Manuel about why he wanted this hearing specifically, and what he says surprises me and plants the tiniest seed of hope in my heart. “Well, your honor, Ms. Bard has continually challenged my rulings, and to be honest, although some of her concerns are not without some merit and I agree we need to discuss arrangements again due to some changes in Mr. Hawkins’ living arrangement and his previous life experiences, I want whatever is decided today to be done at a level that Ms. Bard cannot repeatedly dispute,” Manuel says. “This case should be taking up far less time than it does, your honor.”

  The judge’s bushy gray eyebrows shoot up. “I see.”

  I steal a glance at Bethany, who looks absolutely livid. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are wide, and if this was a cartoon, fire would be dancing in her irises. I notice Finn out of the corner of my eye and the almost comical expression he’s wearing—eyes bulging and mouth in a tiny O. I want to put a bag over his head so he doesn’t distract anyone. The judge clears his throat and begins to ask questions about our current custody arrangement and why I left River with Chloe. My explanation seems to appease him. He asks about why I’m moving when I’ve only lived in my apartment for less than four months. This one is not going to make me look so good. “Because I was romantically involved with the landlord, and it didn’t seem like a good idea anymore.”

  “What? To live under her roof or to be involved?”

  “Well, in a way both,” I admit. “I just thought we both needed distance.”

  “Hmm…” the judge mutters and scribbles a note before pausing to read more of the dossier in front of him. “I’ve read the very detailed account of the newer, more disconcerting information Ms. Bard and her family believe makes you an unsafe parent to River. You were in a vehicle that killed a man. You lied about that to Ms. Bard for several years.”

  “Your honor, lie is not the term we would use. Mr. Hawkins did not explain the full details of what propelled him to go to rehab five years ago to Ms. Bard,” Stephanie says, sounding very much like a full-fledged lawyer, thankfully. “Mr. Hawkins was not charged in any crime, and his relationship with Bethany ended shortly after rehab, so he didn’t think he was under any obligation—”

  “To be honest with the mother of his child?” the judge finishes for Stephanie, and his bushy eyebrows fly up again.

  Fuck.

  “Your honor, he has stayed sober without incident of any kind from that moment forward,” Stephanie explains calmly. “Mr. Hawkins just wanted to be a part of his son’s life, and the Hawkins family knew that if Ms. Bard and her family knew of this, she would use it to keep Logan from his child, which she is currently doing.”

  “Yes, I can deduce that, but this may be a case of the ends not justifying the means, counsellor,” the Judge sighs. “I’m told you brought some witnesses to speak to your character since that incident.”

  “Yes. My family and some friends,” I pause.

  “And me.”

  The words startle me. They come from so close. The voice is so familiar but so out of place. I feel like my anxiety and angst over everything in my life right now has caused me to snap, and now I’m imagining Chloe’s voice. But when I turn in my seat, she is actually here standing in the aisle between the rows of seats. Just behind her in the doorway is Aspen, looking flushed and breathing hard like she’s running or in labor. Chloe’s long, silky, dark brown hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. She’s wearing the camel-colored dress coat she had on the day I met her and badgered her into renting me the apartment.

  She clears her throat. “My name is Chloe Hale, your honor, and I’m Mr. Hawkins’ landlord.”

  “We’ve covered the confusion about why Mr. Hawkins left River in your care,” the Judge replies. “I’m not going to reprimand a paramedic for helping out in an emergency. I’m focusing on his involvement and lack of disclosure about a car accident.”

  “Yes sir, and I feel what I have to say is relevant to that as well,” Chloe pauses. “It was my husband who died in that crash, and I was also in the vehicle.”

  The Judge is thunderstruck. I hear Bethany’s mother gasp and her father utter a swear word under his breath that the judge is too far away to hear. Bethany must be in shock too, but I don’t turn to look at her to find out. I keep my gaze firmly on Chloe. I can’t believe she is here.

  “So, if no one has any objections, perhaps Ms. Hale should be our first character witness,” the judge pauses and no one objects, so he nods at Chloe. “Please go ahead.”

  She takes a deep breath, her eyes landing on mine briefly before looking back to the judge. “I met Mr. Hawkins at his family’s restaurant and found out he was looking for an apartment with two bedrooms, which I had available. He wanted it because River would have his own room. He is a dream tenant. He’s quiet, doesn’t throw parties, and pays rent on time. But then I had a bad fall and no one to call to care for me, and so I called him. And he came. He took care of me and nursed me through a concussion. At this point, I wasn’t a friend. I was just a landlord. Someone whose name he knew because he wrote me a check once a month. But he still took care of me. Just like he tried to take care of our neighbor when her house caught fire in the middle of the night.”

  Chloe pauses and her eyes dart to Bethany’s table for the briefest second before they dart back to the judge. “Had I known what we had in common—that Logan had been in the car that killed my husband and
almost killed me five years ago—I would have never been at his family’s restaurant, and I never would have let him view the apartment, let alone rent it. And I definitely wouldn’t have relied on him when I was concussed or asked him on a date after that. Or fallen in love with him. Because I never would have seen past that piece of information. It would have clouded everything, even though he wasn’t even conscious in the car. But the Logan I did get to know these last few months is conscientious and hardworking. He goes above and beyond for friends and family and is a loving and levelheaded father. I think one of the reasons I have such a hard time reconciling what I now know we share in the past is that it’s not something I could imagine this Logan being a part of. I can’t hold him responsible for that because he was sick. Alcoholism is a disease. This Logan deserves my apartment, my friendship, and my heart. But most importantly he deserves full equal custody of his son. This Logan has earned that, in my opinion.”

  The room is deathly silent except for a small sniffle from Ma, who has tears streaming down her cheeks. The judge stares at Chloe unblinking for a long moment and then clears his throat. “Thank you for that, Ms. Hale.”

  Chloe nods and moves to a seat at the back, next to Aspen who is breathing normally again. Jake speaks, Cookie speaks, Terra speaks and gives stats and facts about the effects of denying parental rights on the child, like the diligent therapist-in-training she is, and then the judge sighs and says he doesn’t need to hear anything further. Every beat of my heart after that is so full of fear, it’s physically painful. He looks over at Bethany and then at Manuel. “I understand the concern now, and so I’m making this decision crystal clear. Mr. Hawkins will have custody of the child, River Charlie Hawkins, every other weekend for forty-eight consecutive hours and alternating holidays, as well as two evenings a week at the discretion of the parents. I want you, Ms. Bard, to stop spending so much time and effort digging for reasons to exempt Mr. Hawkins from your child’s life. If I see you in here again on another trumped-up claim, or if you do not follow this agreement explicitly, I will reverse it and River will live full-time with his father while Ms. Bard will have every second weekend.”

  “But…” Bethany’s dad starts to interrupt, his face red with anger.

  “No buts,” the judge cuts in sternly. He then looks over at me. “We do need you to have a stable living environment, however. While you arrange a new place of your own, the child can and will spend his weekends with you at your parents’ home if they agree.”

  “We agree!” Ma calls out, and the judge frowns at her outburst but nods.

  The judge stands and we all follow. “Thank you,” I say.

  “Don’t thank me. You’ve clearly earned this,” he says. “The paperwork will be drawn up, and you’ll both sign before leaving here today.”

  He walks out of the room. Bethany stands, and I turn and face her. She’s not glaring like I would expect. She looks more sad than angry. I walk over to her even though I can hear Jake whispering adamantly, “Don’t do it, bro.”

  Bethany’s dad puffs out his chest. “There’s no need to gloat.”

  “Dad, just stop,” Bethany snaps, and her parents glare at her and then storm out of the court room. Bethany turns back to me. “I only want the best for River. You were…you were the worst partner ever and a shitty dad.”

  “I was. But Bethany, come on. I’ve changed.”

  “Because of her.” That trademark Bethany bitterness is back. Her blue eyes are icy. “She gets the boyfriend I was trying desperately to help you become.”

  And that’s where this has been coming from. It’s not that she doesn’t see I’ve changed, she’s just upset I did it without her. I sigh and reach for her hand. “Beth, I didn’t change for another woman. I changed for me. I changed for River and that’s it.”

  She nods but she’s frowning.

  “We want the same things—a happy, safe, and healthy son. And I want you to be happy too, Beth.”

  “I want that for you. I’m glad you found it. It just…stings.” I hug her as she confesses that, but she pulls away abruptly. “See you Friday when you pick him up.” She turns and leaves.

  I walk back over to my family, who all start hugging me. Terra grabs me by the shoulders. “Aspy texted me while Chloe was speaking. She discovered how Bethany found out. Mrs. Green. I guess Chloe confronted her asshole ex-brother-in-law and told him about knowing you, and he then visited Mrs. Green in the hospital and told her everything.”

  “She’s going to write about it on the blog, I know it,” Ma gasps.

  “It’s a violation of the non-disclosure he signed. We can sue him,” Declan announces. “That guy will owe us every single cent we gave him.”

  “I don’t want to deal with this right now,” I tell them honestly as my eyes dart around the room. “I have River, and that’s what counts. Now I just need to talk to Chloe.”

  “I think she left,” Jake says, and my heart sinks.

  31

  Chloe

  I use the snow brush from my car to clean off his headstone. It’s been a while since I’ve visited. I think about seven months. Someone has been here recently though because snow isn’t as high as it should be. It was probably Denny.

  I read the words. Jackson Turner. Loving husband, brother, and son.

  I think back to a conversation I had with Jackson the year my mom died. She had been gone almost a year, and my dad was just starting to participate in life again. He went to a beach clean-up day and ran into an old friend. A woman named Gloria who used to do yoga with my mom. She invited him over for a BBQ, which he had thought was a group event but when he got there it was just the two of them. My dad told me that he was surprised but ended up having a really good time. And then he felt so guilty about that, he started ignoring Gloria’s emails and phone calls. When I told Jackson about this, he told me I needed to encourage my dad to see Gloria again. I was shocked. I thought, like my dad, it was too soon for him to be dating or whatever that was. Jackson had said, “Chlo, when I go, I want you to jump right back into it. I don’t care if you’re ninety-six. The whole point of life is love and connection. Denying yourself that means you might as well have died with the person.”

  This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about that conversation. It was one of the reasons I pushed myself back into dating. He was right. I knew that then, and I know it now.

  “I’m shocked to see you here,” the voice from behind me startles me and I jump and spin around. It’s Denny.

  “I come a couple times a year. I don’t intend to stop,” I reply. It’s defensive and he knows it. Denny nods. I place the single rose I brought with me in the tiny metal vase affixed to the headstone and start to back away. “I’ll give you some time.”

  “Don’t leave, though okay?” he asks. “I’d like to talk.”

  “I had my friend Aspen drop me off. I was going to call Uber Jay for a lift home. He’s our only Uber driver in town,” I reply. “My car wouldn’t start today. It’s been burning oil for a while and finally crapped out.”

  I think about the frantic call I had to make to Aspen to get to the hearing. If it wasn’t for her, I would have missed it completely, and I would have been devastated.

  “I can drive you home,” Denny tells me. “Just give me a minute.”

  He tosses me the keys to his car and I nod and walk over and get into the passenger seat. Ten minutes later, Denny opens the driver’s door and gets in.

  “I did some snooping,” he says. “Called in some favors with my friends in the department in Wells to find out more about the crash. Even ended up talking to one of the cops who was on scene that night. He said Logan was so upset when he found out he’d been in the car and someone had died, they thought he might try to hurt himself.”

  Denny’s eyes are affixed firmly to the dash in front of him, but it’s clear he’s not actually seeing it. His brain is reliving those awful days of the crash. “He said that there was no way Logan knew Bryan had decided to
drive home. There were four different witnesses from the bar that said Logan was passed out cold. The bar’s dishwasher was on a smoke break and watched Bryan drive out of the parking lot with Logan unconscious in the passenger seat.”

  “I don’t know why we need to relive this, Denny.”

  Denny finally looks at me and sighs. “I needed to hear it from a colleague. Someone who was there. I needed to see his face when he said, without a flicker of doubt, that they did the right thing by not charging Logan.”

  “Logan’s life proves that,” I reply. “He saves people for a living. He’s trying to make up for what happened every day of his life. You don’t have to hold him accountable and neither do the police because he holds himself responsible.”

  “Do you? Hold him responsible?”

  “I don’t,” I say. “In fact, I just came from a hearing where I spoke about what a good person he is so he gets joint custody of his son once and for all.”

  Denny doesn’t look angry at that news, so I decide to be completely honest with him. I stare out the windshield at the sun glinting off the pristine white snow. “I am in love with Logan. I’m not going to feel guilty for what my heart wants.”

  “I just…I can’t help but wish—”

  I don’t let him finish the thought. “I wish it wasn’t complicated either, but it is what it is. And the one thing I know with certainty is Logan is worth pushing past the issues.”

  Denny absorbs my words, and I’m waiting for some kind of blow up, but instead, when he looks at me again, his eyes are filled with tears. “I want you to be happy. And I want us to remain friends.”

  “Of course!” I reach across and hug him. “You’ll always be my family, Denny.”

  He lets go of me and pulls back. The tears are gone and a small smile is starting to bloom on his face. “What are you going to do about Paul? Anything?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know what I can do about him.”

 

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