As if today wasn’t enough of a roller coaster, Chloe and Amelia drop an atomic bomb on me. My attorney scrambles to get a copy of the recording vetted and sent off to the proper channels in time to allow us to play it in court today. I don’t even know the outcome of the effort until I slide into the seat next to him in front of the judge, and he gives me a very quick thumbs up.
I’m not ready to feel relief just yet, because it’s not over until the judge hits that gavel. Looking back into the small crowd, I see Dale and Kate, dressed like doting grandparents, and I feel a pang of guilt about Amelia all over again. I had asked them not to include her in this, and they agreed without requiring any explanation on my part. Maybe she had been right about them, that they wouldn’t abandon me no matter what the outcome was between us.
Next to the Westovers are Henry and Chloe, two of the best friends anyone could ask for. Friends who stuck around with me all summer in Juneau, even though they swore they’d spend summer back in Port Providence, just because our kids are best friends.
Even though I have this awesome little network of support, my hands are still shaking with nerves, my mouth is still dry, my stomach is still sour. If the judge rules against me today, there’s about to be a room full of people seeing me ugly cry.
The whole process is a set of formalities I don’t understand, but I stand when I’m told to stand, and I say, “Yes, your honor,” when my attorney nudges me. And all the while I try not to look over at Abby and Mark and growl at them. They look like the perfect couple, and here I am by myself, looking like a total loner. With Theo, they look like the perfect family, and I just look like a lonely single dad scrambling to make ends meet.
I manage to bite my tongue through the presentation from Abby’s attorney, until they pull up a picture of Amelia, and I practically choke. I know exactly what day this was… the first day I met my attorney. Theo knew something was up with me that day, and he was sullen. In the picture, they’re sitting on the porch, Amelia frowning because Theo’s frowning, and a single tear is rolling down his cheek.
“As you can see here, West has left the child with strangers whom he is not comfortable.” My blood boils at the attorney’s words. “Moreover, he rents a home, works only part time, and has no relatives in the state. My client feels it would be best for the child if he were able to move away with his mother and stepfather to a place where the stepfather has a better job opportunity. My client’s mother would join the move, so they would have family with them.”
The attorney concludes her remarks and takes her seat, then it’s my lawyer’s turn to speak. “Your honor, we’d like to start by pointing out that West Jacobs has made the incredible journey from marine special operations soldier to local fire hero, and recently passed his test to complete the requirements for his pilot’s license. He has been offered a full-time job with Westover Flights, LLC that will supply an annual salary three times that of the plaintiff’s family income…”
I can’t help at that moment to look over and savor the shock on Abby’s face. She always was too sure of her own version of reality, and never bothered to ask for the facts. Now that’s coming back to bite her in the ass.
“…Moreover, the Westovers are very close with Theo, and Mrs. Westover is going to be providing care during the workdays while Mr. Jacobs flies with Mr. Westover.”
The judge interrupts the attorney to wave at them. “Taking some time off then, Kate?” he asks. It’s obvious they know each other, and for a brief moment, I feel a little prick of hope.
“The Westovers have a brand new fifteen hundred square foot guesthouse that they are happy to rent indefinitely to Mr. Jacobs, although of course that won’t be necessary once he starts his new job next week. The woman in that photo you saw earlier is their daughter, Amelia, who is the new owner of The Daffodil.”
“Oh yes. That’s right. I couldn’t get a spot at the pop-up night. It sold out too fast.” He frowns.
My attorney doesn’t miss a beat. “Well I’m sure we can fix that in the future.”
The judge nods. “I heard Amelia is an extraordinary cook, Kate.”
“She is, uh, your honor,” Kate says quickly in reply.
“Excuse me, but what does this have to do with my rights?” Abby interrupts.
The judge’s face turns into a deep scowl. “Ms. Brown, please keep your client under control, or I will hold her in contempt.”
“Yes, your honor,” the attorney squeaks and nudges Abby when he looks away.
Straightening in his chair, the judge pauses for a long moment that hangs heavy in the room. “Is that all, Mr. Goldberg?”
“No, your honor. We did supply the plaintiff two hours ago with a recording from a dinner they had at The Daffodil. You have a copy as well in your file.”
“Play the audio, please,” the judge orders to his clerk, who clicks on his computer until the audio fills the room.
The whole time it plays, I watch Abby sink further and further into her chair. My lawyer said he was shocked she didn’t call the whole thing off when we sent it to them earlier, but I bet she’s regretting that choice now. This audio makes her sound like a complete devil.
When the clip ends, the judge lets out an audible sigh and leans forward on his elbows. “Mrs. Woods, do you deny this is a recording of your conversation?”
Abby’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, and then she leans over and whispers something to her lawyer. Ms. Brown responds for her. “No, your honor.”
“I see.” He leans back, smoothing his hand over his thick beard. “In that case, my ruling is that the child is not to be taken away from his father. Not out of the state, and not moved to a town more than forty miles from Juneau unless there is voluntary consent by both parents. In fact, if Mr. Jacobs should prefer it, I am prepared to offer him five days a week custody and every other weekend to ease the burden Mrs. Woods feels at sharing the child. Should Mrs. Woods have a true need to move, she can have summer visitation for eight weeks consecutively. Else, she should plan on sticking around and keep their current arrangement and not appear in my courtroom again.”
His words are still swirling in my head when he smacks the gavel, and if it wasn’t for my attorney patting my back and smiling, I might have not believed what I just heard.
As the room breaks out, Dale and Kate envelop me in a joyful hug. Then I pump Dale’s hand in my tight grip. “You were a life saver. Thank you so much for hiring Mr. Goldberg for me. I owe you, well, everything.”
“It was our pleasure. But it sounds like Chloe and Amelia were the pinch-hitters here. That tape was really damning.”
I shift at the mention of her. “I’m glad she got it to me, eventually.”
“You have been ignoring her calls, to be fair,” Kate says in the sweet yet scolding way that only she can, and I rub the back of my neck.
“You know she’s back at home sulking. If you aren’t going to get Theo right now, why not go talk to her?” Dale suggests.
“You are a strange duck, Dale. Not many dads would encourage an old man like me to go after their daughters.”
“Stop, you’re practically a baby.”
“I’m thirty-nine and a half…” I counter.
“Same thing. Now go. And make sure you bring her with you to Henry and Chloe’s after you make up. We’ll go help them set up the celebration party.” Dale pats my back conclusively, and who am I to argue with that logic?
After a quick goodbye to Henry and Chloe, I get in my car and let my thoughts swirl as I drive. How do I even feel about Amelia right now? If she decides to stay, will I really give her a chance after everything? Or am I just being stupid about what really boils down to a little miscommunication? I probably am. Dale knows it. He’s never steered me wrong.
But the idea of walking in with my heart on my sleeve makes me laugh like a deranged maniac. Can I really do that again? After the day I’ve had? I’m a walking raw nerve, and I’m supposed to walk into the unknown and declare my love for a girl I don’t deserve?
My time to think is quickly up, and I throw the car in park in the driveway and just sit for a while. I know I’m stalling, but I’m not ready. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.
But eventually, I loosen my tie and pop the top button of this too-tight dress shirt. I’ve done way more daring things than talk about my feelings, right? I’ve charged through fires to save people from burning buildings. I’ve hauled a man twice my size down a ladder. I’ve stood back to back with eight men in the desert and shot back at our enemies in the pitch black darkness…yes. I can do this. I can tell Amelia how I feel and hope to heaven she feels the same.
With confidence I pull from deep in my gut, I bound to the door and walk inside. My ears perk at the sound of soft sobbing coming from the back bedrooms, and I kick off my shoes before toeing my way back to the woman who I hope I still have a chance with. Here goes nothing.
“West?” she asks as I stand in her doorway. Man, it doesn’t help that her bedroom still looks like the room of a high school kid, complete with posters and trophies and Polaroids of her and her friends. I know she moved away four years ago and they never changed anything, but it still makes me feel old as dirt.
As we stare each other down, she swings her legs over the bed and wipes at her tears. I hate seeing her cry, but I’m trying my best not to let her pouty face affect my thinking.
I’m not even sure what I’m thinking, so I just blurt out whatever is top of mind first. “You should have told me about that recording right away.” To my surprise, my tone isn’t that harsh. It’s steady and maybe even gentle.
“I realize that now. It seemed like something I needed to tell you in person, but then life sort of got in the way_”
My voice rises as I cut her off. “But that’s the thing, Amelia. This is my life. Theo is my life. He’s the most important person in my life, and he always will be number one. And you knew how torn up I was about this shit, and you were sitting on a key piece of information.”
“I fucked up and I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice that has me feeling like an asshole.
“And what about that photo of Theo crying on the steps of The Daff. Did you see Abby take that of you two?” I accuse her, having honestly no clue but just tugging at everything because I feel so fucking vulnerable around Amelia, and I want her to feel it too.
She nods. “I did. It was weird, but I didn’t know what to make of it. Did she use that in the hearing?” Her fucking bottom lip is quivering, and I hate what that does to me.
“She did, but the recording clinched it, that, and your pop-up restaurant.”
“What?” She gives me a funny look.
“Yup. The judge wants a table. I think that helped too. You already know the outcome I presume?”
“Mom texted me that the arrangement stands, unless you want him more. That’s great news. I’m really happy for you.”
I finally cross over to her and sit down on her bed, our thighs pressing together. I could have sat further away, but my legs carried me here because my heart still craves the closeness. “Then why were you crying when I got here?”