“Yeah, Ben, I'm here. Sorry Just give me a second.”
I put dowTi the phone and took a deep breath. It would do me no good to spiral down right now. Or to blow up over the phone. None of this was Ben's fault.
I put the phone back to my ear. “What was the basis for the claim?” Tasked. Not that I didn't already know, or at least suspect.
“Concern for Alex's safety The motion cited the dangerous police work you were doing while you were in California with him. The fact that you supposedly abused your privileges while he was in your care at Disneyland.”
“Ben, that's bullshit. It's a complete rearrangement of the facts. I consulted on a case with LAPD.”
“I'm assuming as much,” he told me. “Anne Billingsley's her attorney It's not beyond her to do a little grandstanding, even at this phase. Don't let it get to you, okay?” Ben went on, “Besides, there's some good news here, believe it or not. An earlier trial date means they have less time for Christine to establish a status quo under the new arrangement. The judge isn't supposed to take these temporary orders into account, but it's like unringing a bell. So the sooner the better, really. We were actually lucky to get on the calendar this early.”
“Great,” I said. “Lucky us.”
Ben told me to write an account of exactly what happened in California. I had been keeping a diary on his advice ever since I'd hired him. It included time spent with Alex, things I noticed about his development, family photos, and, maybe most important, any concerns I had about Christine. The fact that she had whisked our son away from me two days early certainly qualified. Those ups and downs of hers were a concern, deeply troubling. Was this latest development one of them?
“There's one other thing,” Ben told me. “You might not like it a whole lot.”
“Listen, you find something for me to like about all this and I'll double your fee.”
“Well, one of your strongest arguments is going to be Alex's relationship to his siblings.”
“Jannie and Damon aren't going on the witness stand,” I said flatly. “That's a no, Ben; I won't allow it.”
How many times had I seen capable adult witnesses eviscerated in a courtroom? Too many to even consider putting my kids up there.
“No, no, no,” Ben assured me. “Definitely not. But it would have a positive impact if they could be present for the searing. You want Alex back, don't you? That's our goal, right? If I'm wrong about that, then I don't want to spend time on your case.”
I looked around my office, as if for some kind of magic answeL “I'm going to have to think about it,“ 1 finally said. ”I'll get back to you.”
“Remember the big picture, Alex. This isn't going to be pleasant, far from it, but it will be worth it in the long run. We can win this thing. We will win.”
He was so calm and collected. Not that I expected him to get emotional - I just wasn't in the mood for a rational conversation with my attorney.
“Can we talk first thing tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure. But listen, you can't give up hope. When we get in front of a judge, you need to know in your heart that you're the best parent for your son. That doesn't mean we have to trash Christine Johnson, but you can't come in looking, seeming, or even feeling defeated. Okay?”
“I'm not defeated. Not even close to it. I can't lose my son, Ben. I won't lose Alex.”
“I'll do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Call me at work or at home. You have my cell?”
“I have it.”
I don't know if I said good-bye to Ben or even hung up before I threw the phone across the room.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 31
“WHAT'S GOING ON UP THERE?” Nana called from below "Alex? Are you okay?
What happened?"
I looked at the smashed phone on the floor and felt unhinged. “It's all right,” I called back. “I just dropped something. Everything's fine.”
Even the little lie didn't sit well with me, but I couldn't face anyone right now Not even Nana Mama. I pushed back from my desk and put my head down between my knees.
Goddamn Christine. What was wrong with her? It just wasn't right, and she had to know that.
She couldn't have chosen a worse way of going about this, eithet She was the one who decided to leave, who said she was unfit to be Alex's mom. She told me that. She used the word - unfit. And she was the one who kept changing her mind. Nothing had ever changed for me. I wanted Alex from the moment I set eyes on him, and I wanted him even more now I could see his face, his shy little smile, a cute wink he'd developed lately I could hear his voice inside my head. I wanted to give him a big hug that wouldn't stop.
It felt so unfair, so completely wrongheaded. All I had in me was anger and even a little hatred for Christine, which only made me feel worse. I'd give her a fight if that's what she wanted, but it was insane that she did.
Breathe, I told myself.
I was supposed to be good at staying calm in a bad situation. But I couldn't help feeling that I was being punished for doing my job, for being a cop.
I don't know how long I sat up there, but when I finally left the attic, the house was dark and still. Jannie and Damon were asleep in their rooms. I went in and kissed them good night anyway I took Jannie's mouse ears off and put them on the bedside table.
Then I went out to the back porch. I flipped the lid on the piano and sat down to play Therapy for one.
Usually, the music took hold of me, helped me work through or forget whatever was bothering me.
Tonight, the blues just came out angry and all wrong. I switched to Brahms, something more soothing, but it didn't help in the least. My pianissimo sounded forte, and my arpeggios were like boots clomping up and down stairs.
I finally stopped midphrase, hands over the keys.
In the silence, I heard the sharp intake of my own breath, an involuntary gulp of ai What if I lose Little Alex?
Mary, Mary
Chapter 32
NOTHING COULD BE WORSE than this, nothing I could imagine.
A few days later, we all flew out to Seattle for Alex's custody hearing. The whole Cross family went west again. No vacation this time, though, not even a short one.
The morning after we arrived, Jannie, Damon, and Nana sat quietly behind me on the courtroom benches as we waited for things to get started. Our conversation had dropped off to a tense silence, but having them there meant even more than I would have thought.
I straightened the papers in front of me for about the tenth time. I'm sure I looked fine to everyone, but I was a wreck inside, all hollowed out.
Ben Abajian and I were seated at the respondent's table on the left side of the room. It was a warmly appointed but impersonal space, with honey-colored wood veneer on the walls and standard-issue contemporary furniture.
There were no windows, not that it mattered. Seattle was showing off its dark, rainy side that morning.
When Christine came in, she looked very fresh and put together. I'm not sure what I expected, maybe some outward indication that this was as hard for her as it was for me.
Her hair looked longer, pulled back in a French braid. Her navy suit and gray high- collared silk blouse were more conservative than I was used to with her - and more imposing. She looked as if she could be another lawyer in the room. It was perfect.
Our eyes met briefly. She nodded my way, without showing any emotion. For a second, I flashed onto a memory of her looking at me across the table at Kinkead's, our old favorite dinner spot in D.C. It was hard to believe these were the same eyes meeting mine in this courtroom, or that she was the same person.
She said a brief hello to Jannie, Damon, and Nana. The kids were reserved and polite, which I appreciated.