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Penny jerked the car to the curb and watched the backyard celebration from across the street. It was a perfect day for an outdoor party. A light June breeze stirred the newly sprouted leaves in the tree tops. Mylar balloons floated above the fence from multi colored ribbons. Sunlight reflected from their metallic surfaces. She winced when a stray beam of light speared straight into her eyes, then hunted for a tissue to wipe away the moisture.
No tears today. She shook her head, latching on to the internal denial. Today her Mercie turned a year old. A year you missed. Twelve months down the drain because you refused to believe... She forced the thought from her head. I'm not going there. I can't get the past back, but I can change the future. In six short days, she would claim Mercie as her own. In six days, maybe her heart could begin to heal. If she could get past this ever present grief she could focus on being the wife Gabe needed and the mother the twins and Mercie deserved. Mercie. Penny leaned her head against the head rest, closed her eyes, and crossed her arms. She could almost feel that small, sturdy body pressed against hers. The absence of the reality made her arms and her heart ache with emptiness.
She jerked herself out of the daydream. Am I losing my mind? Did crazy people know they were crazy? Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes, and she turned her gaze back to the balloons. They're not tears, just the light...
Penny sank down in her seat as another car came to a stop in front of the house. A young couple climbed out. He held a brightly wrapped gift, she stooped back inside and emerged with a toddler in her arms. They made their way to the front door, carefree, confident. Invited.
She fingered the gift on the seat beside her. The sky blue dress with its frilly skirt and puffy sleeves had dazzled her from its place on the rack. She'd raised three sons. Dressing a girl would be a new adventure filled with lace, soft pastel fabrics, and bows. Telling herself to wait a week had been a waste of time. She'd purchased the dress, not knowing there would be a party, intending to leave it at the front door, but now...
Penny turned her attention back to the activity behind the fence. Rage built, shoving the hurt aside for a bit. That was her child...grandchild...and she had every right to be a part of the festivities. How dare they exclude her? She grabbed the package, climbed out of the car, and crossed the street with a confidence born of righteous indignation. She ignored the front door and crossed to the gate on the side of the house instead. They might try to stop her at the door, but the gate offered unattended and immediate access.
***
EVEN ABOVE THE NOISE of a rowdy chorus of "Happy Birthday," Scottlyn heard the gate hinges squeal. She looked up from the cupcake she'd just placed on the tray of Mercie's high chair. Recognition slammed into her and almost drove her to the ground with its force. The sudden pounding of her heart drowned out the birthday noise, and her vision narrowed to the unwelcome woman, Bradley's mother, crossing the lawn. How dare she? The slim chance that the court might decide in favor of the Nelsons' robbed her of sleep each night, but this was her time. This person would not spoil Mercie's birthday.
Scottlyn handed her camera to Diana. "Get some pictures for me." She hurried across the yard to cut off the enemy. "What are you doing here?"
Bradley's mother stopped and looked around the yard. She almost seemed puzzled by the question. Scottlyn took in the red eyes of her nemesis and the dark circles etched beneath them. The poor woman didn't look like she'd slept in days, or enjoyed a good meal in weeks. Scottlyn shrugged off any trace of sympathy. This was war, and if the first round had to be fought today, then so be it.
Penny Nelson held out the gift. "It's my little girl's birthday."
The term of ownership heated Scottlyn's temper to a full boil. Her hands fisted at her sides, and she had to make a physical effort to unclench her jaw enough to speak.
"You've got a lot of nerve. Leave now, or I'll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."
Penny lifted her chin and met Scottlyn's gaze. She clutched the gift to her chest like a shield. "I brought a gift. I have every right to give it to her."
A hand came to rest on Scottlyn's shoulder. She glanced back to see Grant. His father flanked her on the other side.
"I'll take care of this." Grant's father stepped around Scottlyn, placing himself between the two women. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave. My client doesn't want you here."
The older woman's face morphed into a mask of defiance. "Your client is on borrowed time. It would save everyone a lot of trouble if she simply gave me what was mine."
I'm going to take this person apart. Scottlyn's nails bit into her palms as her hands fisted in outrage. The only thing standing between her and this...this...delusional thing, was the added pressure of Grant's hands on her shoulders.
He bent to whisper in her ear. "Let Dad do his job. She's only hurting her own case right now. Don't let her get to you and make you damage yours as well."
"Mrs. Nelson, you'll have your day in court, but that isn't today. I'm sure your lawyer wouldn't be pleased with your presence here. You're only jeopardizing your case."
Scottlyn watched as Bradley's mother drew herself up to her full height, stepped around the small group of resistance, and marched to the gift table. She placed her present on the stack before turning back to the gate. She paused next to the highchair and brushed a hand across Mercie's curly hair. Without a word she returned to the gate.
"Enjoy the next six days. The rest of her life is mine."
***
SCOTTLYN FORCED HER feet to carry her through the halls of the courthouse on Friday afternoon. Diana followed her on the right, Diana's best friend, Lynette Thomas the left. She made it as far as the swinging doors to courtroom three before her feet stumbled to a stop and refused to carry her a step further.
"Scottlyn?"
Diana’s whisper barely carried above the pounding of Scottlyn's heart echoing in her ears. "I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." Lynette hissed from behind her. "After what she did to you on Saturday?" She gave Scottlyn a small shove. "How many times do you need to hear someone tell you that these people don't have a legal leg to stand on? You square up your shoulders, girl, get in there, and claim what's yours once and for all. We've got you're back, and God's got ours. Now move."
Scottlyn pressed her lips into a thin line and straightened her back. Lynette was right. Mercie was hers, and she intended to leave today with that question forever settled. So far, Penny Nelson had fired all the shots in this war. Scottlyn would never forgive her for the way she'd ruined Mercie's party. Well, Scottlyn was no longer on the defensive. She was ready to fire some shots herself."
She pushed through the doors and marched up the center aisle, pausing only long enough to take Grant's outstretched hand for a second as Diana and Lynette scooted into seats next to him.
She met his gaze. The confidence on Grant's face bolstered her courage a notch further. She nodded at him and hurried to take her seat beside Mr. Weber at one of the tables on the other side of the railing. Across the room, Bradley's parents sat with their lawyer. His mother's posture was stiff, her face a mask of grief. She didn't even glance in Scottlyn's direction.
Scottlyn waged a solitary battle with tears she refused to shed in the face of the enemy. Anger began to build in her heart, and she embraced it. Good! She'd take anger over fear any day of the week.
Mr. Weber leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You OK?"
Scottlyn shrugged. She started when his hand come to rest on top of the ones she held clenched in a white knuckled ball on top of the table.
"Relax. You've got nothing to worry about."
"Can you promise me that, because—?"
"All rise. In the matter of Nelson versus Rich, let all parties come forth to be heard. Court is now in session, The Honorable Miles Alexander, presiding."
Chairs scooted, clothing rustled, and no one seemed to breathe as the door behind the judge's desk swung open to admit a tall man dressed in a black robe. He took his seat and tapped the microphone with his index finger. "Be seated."
The judge looked over the small group. A deep exhale echoed from the courtroom speakers as he dug a pair of glasses from a hidden pocket, cleaned them on the corner of his robe, and settled them on his nose. "I've read all the documents presented to me by the lawyers in this case. I'm ready to make a ruling." His eyes cut sharply to his right, focusing on the plaintiff's table, and taking on an expression of sincere sympathy. "Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, while the court can understand your deep-seated grief in this situation, you have failed to provide any proof to your allegations that Miss Rich is an unfit mother. The home has passed inspection, and the mother's background check returned to the court spotless. The defendant offers the child a stable home and is a caring and attentive parent."
Judge Alexander's gaze moved to rest on Scottlyn. "Miss Rich, The court openly apologizes for any discomfort the pursuit of this case may have caused you. I can't pick and choose which cases I adjudicate, but I can do my best to see that justice is served in my courtroom."
He straightened behind the desk and raised his gavel. "The court finds in favor of the defendant." The sound of the gavel echoed through the room, restoring Scottlyn's breath. "Case dismissed."
A low moan started from across the room and built to a scream. "Dismissed?" Bradley's mother jumped to her feet, sending her chair clattering into the railing behind her. She shoved the restraining arms of her husband out of her way. "How can you dismiss us without even listening to what we have to say?"
She turned and pointed a trembling finger in Scottlyn's direction. "She sent my son to prison and cost him his life. How can you say she's a fit person to raise our grandchild? That child is all I have left of my son." She stumbled back, sank into her chair, and rocked back and forth while tears coursed down her cheeks. "She killed my son."
Scottlyn watched in horrified silence as Bradley's father gathered his wife into his arms and practically carried her sobbing figure out of the courtroom. Her gaze followed them out. I killed their son? What about what their son did to me? If my daughter lived without grandparents this year, it's their own fault. If they'd just listened, if they'd just made an effort to be a part of her life.
Diana rushed through the swinging wooden gate that separated the spectators section from the defense table. Scottlyn found herself enveloped in the older woman's arms. "It's over, Scottlyn. No more worries. Let's go get the baby from the sitter and have a nice victory lunch."
Scottlyn nodded, but she couldn't tear her eyes from the door. She killed my son. Somewhere beneath the relief and joy of the judge's dismissal, a small kernel of sympathy tugged at her heart.
Grant's arm's came around her next and she found that kernel completely smothered by the jubilant look of victory on his face.