Chapter 36
BECKETT
Iwake up nervous as fuck. It’s our first real court date, and we are going to go over the basics and see if there’s any way we can agree on things and settle.
I doubt I’ll be open to giving Hannah everything she wants.
It’s been six weeks since our first supervised custody visit, and we’ve been having them once a week.
Of the six visits we’ve scheduled, Hannah has cancelled twice.
Lennon grumbles every time we have to go and pleads for us to stay home.
In her words, she would rather scoop out the horse turds than see Hannah.
She refuses to call her ‘Mom’, which is her call.
I’m not going to force it, even though Hannah thinks I should “out of respect”. She can kiss my entire ass.
Clover stretches her arm out behind her, patting around for me. “Hey, Lucky girl,” I say lowly, rolling over to hold her against me. She sighs contentedly.
“Good morning, Bucket,” she says back groggily. “What time is it?”
“Almost six,” I tell her, and she grumbles loudly. “I know, I know. We both got shit to do today, though, so up and at 'em.”
She wiggles her butt against me as a defense mechanism and I swat it. “Nope, not today, darlin’,” I laugh. “You ain’t luring me in with your wicked wiles.”
She giggles and makes her way out of the bed and heads to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and turning on the shower. I always shower first. What a little shit.
My phone lights up with a text from my mom.
Good luck today, sweetheart.
Thanks. Hopefully it’s quick & easy, but we know she can be.
How’s my beetle?
She’s good. Still sleeping. Her and her Papa stayed up late watching cowboy movies. Heads up, she wants to own a cowboy hat store when she grows up.
What?!
She said she wants to say ‘howdy’ to everyone when they come in. She’s already started.
I chuckle out loud.
Well, when she wakes up, tell her howdy and we love her.
Will do. She told me her and her momma picked out some balloons for her birthday.
??? She hasn’t gone anywhere with Hannah. Clover is the one who took her to the party store in Cliffstone.
Yep.
Oh. I see what you’re saying.
Y’all be careful. We will talk when you get here after court. Love you, Beck.
Love you too, Mom.
Mom is typing . . .
Yes, Mom, Clover loves you too, before you get all huffy.
I holler at Clover and let her know I’m going to go take care of the animals and I’ll shower when I get back. She acknowledges me, but doesn’t say much else. She has a checkup today to get bloodwork done for her thyroid, I think. It’s scheduled while I’m in court, so she’s taking her car today.
I go downstairs and start the coffee pot, make myself a quick breakfast while it brews, pour a travel mug of it, and head out.
* * *
“Alright, let’s jump into it,” Judge Waylon says. He’s in jeans and button up shirt, and clearly ready to get this over with. Same, pal. “We are here to discuss custody of the minor, Lennon Hollis, the marital property between Ms. Hannah and Mr. Beckett, and the matter of spousal support, correct?”
“Spousal support?” I ask, bewildered. Taylor puts his hand up, signalling for me to hold on. I bite my tongue.
“Just so we are all on the same page,” Taylor announces, “I would like to point out on behalf of my client and his daughter that Ms. Hannah hasn’t had anything to do with Lennon for almost seven years.”
Judge Waylon looks over the papers. “I see that. Ms. Hannah, what’s your reasoning for wanting to come back into the picture now?”
Hannah bats her eyelashes at him, slowing her speech down to try to sound like she’s never done a thing wrong.
“Your Honor, six years ago I was a lost soul,” she starts, and it’s all I can do to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes.
I choose to bite the insides of my cheeks instead.
“I was a first-time momma struggling with knowin’ who she really was, and I had an addiction.
An addiction to men, Your Honor. I was led astray by a man who told me he would take me all over the world, show me places I ain’t seen before, and he did.
I realized recently, Judge Waylon, that I needed to step up and be the momma my little Ellie girl deserves. Her real momma.”
“Her name isn’t Ellie,” I say lowly. Taylor looks like he’s going to stop me, but allows it.
Judge Waylon shuffles through some of the papers in front of him and pulls one out with the letterhead from Lennon’s therapist on it. “It says here, Ms. Hannah, that you and the child have been having supervised visitation, is that right?”
She nods, widening her eyes. “Yes, sir, sure is. I see my baby once a week.”
“She’s had six visitations scheduled, Waylon, and she’s cancelled two,” Taylor interjects. Judge Waylon nods. “I see that here. Ms. Hannah, what’s your reasoning for missing a third of the visits you’ve been scheduled?”
“I was plum sick, Judge Waylon,” she drawls. Jesus Christ. I’m not 100% sure the judge is buying it, though.
“I’m going to be honest, y’all,” he says. “We always hope to have a standing relationship between the parents and their children, so shared custody is typically the route we go, given that the other parent isn’t a danger to themselves, the child, or others.”
“She would leave our baby at home by herself,” I say, slapping my hand down on the table.
“Beckett,” Taylor warns.
“Judge, as I said, I was a sick woman back then, trying to search for love wherever I could find it. It overcame me, and I wasn’t thinkin’ clear. I know I shouldn’t have left my Ellie alone now, but back then I thought it was just a little bit, and she was sleepin’. It would be fine.”
Judge Waylon seems to bristle at that. “I think for now, the best option would be to continue the supervised visitation until you can build a rapport with Lennon,” he says, emphasizing her name. I feel a glimpse of hope.
“Mr. Hollis will agree to that,” Taylor says. We had discussed it previously and knew that might be the route we had to take to keep Hannah from getting custody.
“As far as marital property and finances go, Ms. Hannah, how have you been making a living these past six years?” The judge looks at her.
“Well, I’ve been doing odd jobs here and there. I’ve been scraping by and trying to save every penny to get my baby.”
Her lawyer glares at her, and I can tell it’s because she’s lying about something she’s going to get called out on.
“I have your bank statements here, Ms. Belden,” Judge Waylon says. The flip from Ms. Hannah to her maiden name sparks my interest. “It seems as though you’re financially unstable at the moment, and that you’ve filed for bankruptcy. Where is your savings account?”
Hannah freezes and looks at her lawyer.
“Your Honor,” her lawyer jumps in. Candice is her name, I’m pretty sure. “Ms. Belden is prepared to make an offer for settlement. She understands the undue stress this is causing everyone and is willing to give grace in the situation.”
Taylor and I look at each other. A settlement?
“Ms. Belden is willing to drop the spousal support request and her petition for full custody,” Candice says.
If I had ears that could perk up, they would.
“In exchange for what, though?” Taylor asks.
“My client requests that the deed to the ranch be signed over to her, and she will rescind her former petitions.”