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Months after its last cleaning, the abandoned room still carried the musty odor of sweaty boy and well used gym clothes. The single bed was neatly made, junior high and high school sports trophies, dominated by football accomplishments, crowded every available flat surface. A layer of dust coated everything like a light frost on a winter morning. Penny Nelson sat at the desk in the corner of the room, motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest and the steady stream of tears tracking down her cheeks. The tears dripped from her chin where they puddled, unheeded, on the top of the desk.
Her husband, Gabe, wanted to clean the room out. He was afraid she was making a shrine out of Bradley's things. Penny wouldn't allow it. How could he not understand the comfort she derived by being surrounded by the essence of her son?
She stood on shaky legs and wandered around the room, careful not to disturb the slightest fuzz of dust. Memories assailed her, and Penny struggled to sort them out, holding each fleeting moment of her son's twenty-one years close to her heart. Two images took priority in her mind. Her infant son, a strand of her hair wrapped in a tiny fist, snuggled against her breast, drifting off to sleep, and the moment when her hand brushed the hair out of his lifeless face just before his casket was closed the final time.
The same hand clutched the collar of her shirt, and a sob broke from her throat. "How did we get from there to here?" She bolted for the door. Maybe spending so much time here would drive her crazy, just as Gabe feared. Her feet stumbled on the threshold, and she turned for another look. No, she determined. Not a single change. Not until they transformed the room into a nursery.
She startled when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. Gabe's arms wrapped around her, as he lowered his chin to her shoulder, she leaned her head against his.
"Is it done?" she asked.
She felt his nod. "The lawyer's office just called. They served the papers yesterday."
"Good. We need to push for a quick hearing. There's no sense in dragging this out longer than we have to."
Gabe's arms tightened. "Penny, please don't get your hopes up about this. That lawyer you hired was only too happy to take our retainer, but I'm not convinced he can get us what you want."
Penny jerked out of his arms. "Get me what I want? Me?" Her voice grew shriller with every word. She took a step away and pulled Bradley's bedroom door closed with a snap. "What I want is my son, what I'll take is his child. That girl has all the time in the world to have more babies. Mercie is all I'll ever have left of my son." Mercie. What sort of name is that for a child? They'd change that once they had custody. Brandilyn, Brandie? She faced her husband and swiped tears from her face. "I thought that's what you wanted as well."
Gabe pulled her back into his embrace. "I want what God wants."
Penny struggled against his arms. "God...bah. We raised our son in church, he was a good boy. Where was God when that girl tempted him away from his beliefs? Where was God when that fight broke out in the prison yard?" Her struggling stopped, replaced with sagging surrender. "Don't talk to me about God. I don't..." Her voice broke, and the rest of her statement dwindled away. She wept into his shirt front.
"You can't say things like that. I know your heart is broken. Mine is too. Every time I walk down this hall, I pause and listen for his music or his laughter. Every time I drive by the school, I try to get a glimpse of the football field, knowing that if I look hard enough, I'll see him." He exhaled a ragged breath. "Bradley was my son too. But we can't blame God for what happened. That's the grief talking." He loosened his hold on her and eased her back to arm's length. "I just don't understand how taking that child from her mother can ease the grief of losing our son."
"You promised to try."
"And you made a promise too, remember?"
Penny's mouth formed a tight line, and she stared at the wall across his shoulder. Her answer was a sharp nod.
"Good, then we're going back to church this weekend?"
"All right!" She took a step back. "Whatever it takes to get you off my back."
***
SCOTTLYN SLUMPED AGAINST the soft cushions of the couch in the Weber's study. "So they can't...?"
Grant's father smiled. "We have two words for this sort of thing in the legal sphere. Nuisance case. Let me explain a few things." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them. "When it comes to custody cases, the law tends to favor the mother unless someone can give substantial evidence that the mother is unfit. I don't think that's an issue here." He nodded to the papers lying on the table between them. "If the judge doesn't toss the case from the get go, I'll be more than a little surprised."
"Then why...?" Scottlyn lifted her shoulders. "I mean, I'm ecstatic that the news is all good. I'll certainly sleep better tonight, but why would a lawyer take a case he can't win? It doesn't make any sense."
Grant's fingers brushed her hand. "I can answer that. Money."
"My son is correct. There are a lot of lawyers out there that give credence to all of those unethical lawyer jokes. The one Mr. and Mrs. Nelson retained doesn't have the best reputation in the county. He's not quite a bottom feeder, but he's close enough. I'm sure that's not what they wanted, and probably not where they started. They probably had to dig deep to find someone willing to give them the answers they wanted to hear for the fee he wanted to charge. Even if the case never makes it into a courtroom, he can bill them for a few hours, claim he did his best, and walk away with a heavier wallet. All nice and legal, because people can initiate a case over anything, but winning that case is another story."
Grant's father seemed so confident. What if...? She took a deep breath and did her best to squash the maybes. If I don't trust him, then why am I wasting everyone's time? Scottlyn looked from Mr. Weber to Grant and reached for her purse. "You'll never know how grateful I am that you were able to see me tonight. I know it must have been an imposition to meet with me after hours, especially on a Friday night." She withdrew her checkbook. "How much do I owe you?"
"How about an extra slice of cake at Mercie's party next week?"
"Mr. Grant, I'm serious." The lawyer grinned. "Miss Rich, so am I." He lifted a hand when she opened her mouth to object. "All we did tonight was talk. You had questions, I had answers. I'll respond to the complaint first thing Monday morning and list myself as lawyer for the defense. It'll take all of five minutes."
"How long until we hear something?"
"Not long. I'll request the first open date on the docket."
Scottlyn sat back with a smile. "I'll make sure you get a piece of cake with frosting balloons on it."
"Works for me." Grant's father stood. "I'm going to go find my wife. I'm sure you kids can entertain yourselves." He turned for the door.
"Thanks, Dad."
Mr. Weber waved in response and left Scottlyn and Grant alone.
Grant angled to face her. "Are you feeling better about things now?"
"I'm getting there, but there's this little corner of my stomach that's going to be nauseated until a judge rules in my favor." She did her best to reign in her insecurities. "Thanks for the opportunity to talk with him. It's your first night home in five months. I'm sure you had more important things planned."
"Just being with you." He paused. "May I hold your hand?"
Ever the gentlemen, always mindful of her past and the hesitation it bred where men were concerned. The last time a man touched her... Scottlyn bit her lip and refused to go there. She nodded.
Grant took one of her hands in his, holding it lightly. "Like I said, just being with you. Mission accomplished."
His words generated a warmth that started at her fingertips, raced up her arms, and plowed straight into her heart. Her pounding heart drove the heat into her face. She stared at the sight of her hand resting in his, waiting for the familiar fear in the pit of her stomach, more than grateful when it didn't materialize. Thank You, Father. She met his gaze. "I'm not sure who's the bigger sweetheart, you or your dad."
Grant laughed. "There are times when my siblings and I would disagree with you about that sweetheart thing, but Dad's a good sport and a great lawyer. Don't let his mellow attitude fool you. He's a freight train in court. He'll plow Bradley's parents right under the plaintiff's table." He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. "He won't do that just because he's the best family lawyer in the county. He'll do it because he knows how important you and Mercie are to me."
"Grant—"
"Scottlyn, you're all I've thought about since Christmas break." His free hand joined the one holding hers and sent butterflies tumbling in her stomach. "I couldn't wait to come home. Spending the summer with you, getting to know you and Mercie better, that's all that got me through the last semester." Grant stopped and cleared his throat. "I bought something for you."
Scottlyn lifted her chin a notch and looked at Grant from under her lashes. Her pulse fluttered anew at the emotions she saw reflected in his intense brown eyes. Her heart did a somersault when he ducked his head and gave her a shy grin. Did he have any idea how dangerous the combination of his good looks and shy personality could be?
"You bought me a gift?"
"Yes, and I have a question to ask you." Grant stopped to clear his throat a second time and released her hand to rub his palms along the legs of his jeans. "Scottlyn, I know you're still getting over what Bradley did to you, but I really like you. You have a lot on your plate right now, what with taking care of a baby, Mercie's party, trying to get ready for college, and now this custody thing, but..." He stopped to fumble a small velvet box from his pocket. Scottlyn watched him twist the box in his hands. What...?
Grant met her gaze, and she would have sworn she saw a blush staining his cheeks as his expression went from sincere to frustrated. "Sorry." He thrust the box into her hands. "I envisioned this moving a lot smoother."
His muttered words and obvious embarrassment brought a smile to Scottlyn's face and sent the ache of uncertainties scurrying for cover. She turned the box over and over in her hands, finally finding the small latch that released the top. A fine silver chain with a small dangling heart lay nestled on the black velvet. "Grant..."
"Like I said, I know you have a lot of stuff going on, but I wanted to ask if we could...I mean...would you be interested in..." Grant stopped and pulled in a deep breath. He held out his hand and Scottlyn placed the box in his palm. He lifted the bracelet and allowed the light to play on the silver. "What I'm trying to say is that I understand we haven't known each other very long, but I really like you, and I'd like for us to date exclusively this summer and see where it takes us."
Scottlyn held out her wrist. This time the flutter in her heart had nothing to do with Bradly and everything to do with anticipation. Her answer came in a single breathless word. "Yes."