Chapter 27 #2
Gabby kept looking over at her dad, trying to make eye contact, so she could show him some support and make him feel less alone, no doubt.
Evan just stared straight ahead, unblinking.
DJ didn’t spare his dad a single glance, and that was okay too.
After the whole photograph thing and the way their dad had used them to try and throw me under the bus, I couldn’t blame my boy for drawing a line in the sand.
It was like I’d already told myself a million times, I was done making excuses for my ex.
The door at the back of the room opened, and Judge Merrick swept into the room. His face was set in an expression that exuded thunder, probably due to the Jerry Springer episode that occurred in his courtroom a half hour before.
The man took his seat and scowled down at his notes, not wasting any time before he cut out in a tone edged with steel, “Let’s proceed.”
Evan’s lawyer opened his mouth to say something, but the judge held up a hand to stop him.
His eyes rested on my ex-husband, and leaning forward, he rasped, “I’ve seen a lot of things in this courtroom, but this morning set a new bar for complete absurdity.
I’m going to say this now because you need to hear it. Your children deserve better.”
Evan’s expression hardened, and he leaned back in his chair, acting like he couldn’t give the first fuck about anyone’s opinion.
The judge immediately noticed Evan’s surly attitude because his eyes flicked over him appraisingly. “Your home is supplied by your company along with your job. Is that right?”
“Yeah,” Evan spat.
“Yes, Your Honor!” the judge roared.
A tiny squeak left Gabby’s throat, and DJ grunted quietly.
“So,” Judge Merrick continued. “Am I right in assuming that you’re no longer employed as a Ranger for Sterling Wildlife Management?”
Evan’s lawyer cleared his throat. “My client decided to resign from his position, Your Honor. Another opportunity has arisen in Alaska, so he’ll be relocating there in two weeks.”
My heart gave a hard thud.
Traveling to Alaska would be impossible for the kids.
Shit!
The judge’s mouth went tight, and he leaned back in his chair, studying Evan. “Daniel and Gabrielle can’t travel to Alaska every two weeks. Has your client taken that into account?”
Evan’s lawyer cleared his throat and nodded. “In the circumstances, my client has asked to drop the custody request. He would still like to maintain visitation rights but understands visits will be sporadic until he can establish a routine.”
The judge glowered. “Visitation will be nonexistent unless your client travels to their home in Wyoming. It’s unreasonable to expect two teenagers to board a plane without adult supervision and travel hundreds of miles away, especially when they have to study for college.
Plus, Daniel needs to be present if he’s going to excel at sports and earn a college scholarship. ”
My breath caught in my throat.
“So I’ve decided to leave visitation up to Daniel and Gabrielle.
They’re old enough and have the maturity and emotional intelligence to make those decisions for themselves.
Ms. Woods has never denied Mr. Palmer access, and I assume she won’t start now.
” His eyes slid to me. “Is that assumption correct, Ms. Woods?”
I gave the judge a nod and murmured, “Yes, Your Honor.”
He glanced back down at his notes. “I also see Mr. Palmer makes regular child support payments. The amount seems very low, but Ms. Woods hasn’t made an application to the court to get it reviewed.
However, the existing arrangement was made on the basis that Mr. Palmer cares for the children for approximately six days per month, and during school breaks. ”
“Yes, Your Honor,” the lawyer agreed.
“In light of the changes and the fact that Mr. Palmer will no longer be caring for the children regularly, I’ve decided that the child support payments should be increased to seven hundred dollars until Gabrielle and Daniel reach the age of eighteen.
If they remain in education at that time, I would expect your client to extend a helping hand and continue payment until such time that the children leave college, but that’s an arrangement he can discuss with Ms. Woods. ”
Evan’s lawyer sighed.
The judge picked up his gavel and smashed it down on the sound block.
“Case dismissed.” His stare cut to Kennedy.
“On a separate matter, I’m gravely concerned that Mr. Palmer’s investigator took it upon himself to trespass on private property in order to take photographs of children without their main carer’s consent. I trust you’ll deal with it?”
Kennedy stood up and smiled. “It’s already in hand, Your Honor.”
He gave her a nod before shooting DJ and Gabby a parting smile. Then he rose to his feet and swept out of the courtroom.
“Oh, goodie,” Kennedy drawled. “We’re finished in time for lunch.” She swiveled her head toward Evan and his lawyer. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
The lawyer’s eyes narrowed, and Evan folded his arms across his chest as he let out a huff.
I turned to DJ and Gabby with tears shining in my eyes. I didn’t even attempt to hide my utter relief, or the pride I felt for the way my beautiful, incredible kids had handled themselves.
“It’s over, babies,” I said quietly, not quite believing it myself.
DJ sat up a little straighter and looked at Kennedy, who was packing up her files. “Does this mean he can’t show up at the house whenever he wants and cause shit anymore?”
“It means you and Gabby get the final say about if and when you see your dad. No more forced visits. The court trusts you both to make those decisions for yourselves,” she replied softly.
The corner of DJ's mouth hitched. “Cool.” He shrugged like it was the least important thing in the world, but I could tell he was in alpha-badass-in-training mode. God forbid he actually showed his teenage boy excitement.
“Does that mean we get to go home?” Gabby breathed excitedly.
I let out a sound that was an exhale mixed with a sob and whispered, “Yeah, baby. We get to go home.”
A warm hand clasped my shoulder from behind, and Donovan’s voice rumbled, “Who’s hungry?”
I twisted my neck to look up at my guy, and our eyes locked.
The Smirk spread across my man’s face, and he quietly said, “You killed it. You all did.”
My smile shone through my tears, and I looked around the courtroom at all the people who were here for my kids and me.
Freya and Colt had entered the courtroom at some point and were laughing at something (probably Evan) with Atlas. I smiled as Colt slid his arm around Freya’s shoulders, still deep in conversation with my brother, and I marveled at how normal it all was.
My brother turned toward the door that had just opened and called out, “Yo, Stitch,” at Sophie, who walked in, followed by Maureen with Imogen on her hip.
Donny’s mom’s eyes found mine, and she beamed at me, mouthing, Yay!
I grinned, and for the first time in weeks, my cheeks didn’t ache with the effort of pretending. Even Imogen seemed to sense the relaxed atmosphere, because she clapped her little hands together and gave me a toothy grin.
Then something beautiful happened.
Immie spotted her father, and her little face lit up with joy. Then she leaned forward, reached toward Donovan, and at the top of her voice, shrieked one solitary word.
“Dada!”
—————
Two Days Later
“So,” Cara said, lifting her drink to her mouth and staring at me over the rim of one of Martha’s cute teacups.
“What you're basically saying is that your ex-husband hasn’t changed one little bit in all the years you’ve been divorced, but he still thought he had a chance with you and you’d go back to him the instant he clicked his fingers? ”
My lips stretched into a wide grin, and I casually lifted one shoulder. “Seems that way.”
I’d just relayed the story of Evan and Rachel’s Jerry Springer moment in court. Cara, Layla, and Tristan had only just stopped crying with laughter after I told them about the poor court official and the four security guards.
Layla shook her head disbelievingly. “Is he crazy? I mean, Evan wasn’t exactly hit with the ugly stick, but have you seen Donovan O’Shea?” She sat back and fanned her face, giving us all a knowing look.
Tristan reached out and felt Layla’s forehead, checking for a temperature. “No,” he announced. “She doesn’t feel sick. Maybe she’s just developing multiple personalities because the Layla I know would never.”
“Oh, stop,” Layla grumbled, gently slapping his hand away and rolling her eyes conspiratorially at me. “So, what happened after the judge basically told him to eff off?”
“Eff off?” Tristan’s hand went to his chest, and he started to laugh. “Since when have you ever said eff off?”
“Since my twin boys started copying everything we say,” Layla informed him.
“Yesterday, Byron called his playgroup teacher a fucknut. It was hit or miss on whether she was going to allow him back again, but I managed to persuade her. Anyhow, I’ve told Bowie from now on we have to watch our language around the kids or else I’ll end up having to homeschool because nobody else in the state will want to teach them. ” She gave us big eyes. “I just can’t.”
“I feel ya, sister,” Cara drawled quietly.
Layla’s eyes drifted over my shoulder, and her cheeks blushed prettily. “Donvan’s here,” she whispered. “And he looks hawt!”
I craned my neck to see Donny weaving through the chairs and tables, making a beeline toward me, and my heart fluttered.
Layla wasn’t wrong. The sight of Donovan O’Shea crossing the room sent a heated ripple from nipple to clit.
Even after the recent rollercoaster of emotions and legal drama, he still looked every inch the hot guy with his crisp, white wifebeater, the plethora of colorful tattoos that covered his arms and chest, and faded jeans molded to his fine ass and thighs.
My eyes swept over my gorgeous guy from top to toe, taking in his stark white Nike Air Jordans and his confident swagger, and I wondered if there was any place close I could take him so I could jump his bones.
He looked over and hit me with his incredible light blue eyes, along with The Smirk that made every nerve ending in my body come alive.
Donovan paused briefly to collect Imogen from the play area that Martha had recently created. Immie must have sensed him because she stopped bossing around the gathering of dolls and teddy bears and glanced over her shoulder at Donny. Then, she held her hand out toward him and yelled, “Dada.”
Donovan grinned, swooped down, and lifted her onto his hip. His eyes found mine, and he shot me a sexy little wink.
Layla sighed dreamily from beside me and whispered, “Oh my God.”
“You ready, baby?” Donovan asked me in his low, deep voice. “Your appointment’s in ten minutes. Can’t keep the man waiting.”
I grabbed my purse that was hanging over the back of the chair, rose from my seat, and placed my hand in Donovan’s outstretched one. “See you later,” I called out, my heart warming as I was hit with a loud chorus of goodbyes.
We crossed the room together, Imogen jabbering at us from Donovan’s hip, and his hand tightened around mine as he led me out to the sidewalk.
Every step felt as if I were walking a tightrope suspended above an abyss.
I half expected the ground to shatter beneath me, like some cosmic force reminding me how fragile all this was and how easily it could be lost. But instead, my heart bloomed as Donovan held my hand up to his mouth and gently kissed my fingers.
We walked down the sidewalk, past the line of mom-and-pop stores with their fronts already dressed for fall and Halloween. My eyes caught on the reds and oranges of the leaves that had started to wither, and it hit me that in a few weeks the road would be covered in nature as summer faded away.
Donovan and I turned onto Monument Street, heading toward a white medical building, and that was the moment when nerves began to erupt in my belly. My steps faltered as I looked up at the windows that housed a psychiatrist's office.
Slowly, Donovan turned me in his arms to face him, and with Imogen nestled between us, he rested his forehead against mine.
“You’re gonna be okay, baby. Mitch will help you.
Look at what he did for Cash and Cara. Even Breaker and John Stone swear by him, and I wouldn’t let you go see any old witch doctor. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
My eyes filled with tears because the emotions were just too much.
“Hey,” he murmured, his thumb going to my cheek to swipe away a tear. “If you’re not ready for this, we can reschedule. A part of me feels like I’ve forced you into it, Rosie Posy, but I just want you to feel like you again.”
I smiled through my tears and sucked in a deep breath to calm my shit. “I’ll be okay. It’s just been a hard few months. They’ve taken their toll.”
He nuzzled my nose with his. “It’s been a hard few years, baby, but soon you’ll feel better. You’re so fucking strong, and I’ve got so much faith in you.”
I cupped Donovan O’Shea’s cheek and whispered, “I know it’ll work out. How can it not when I’ve got you at my back?”
My guy grinned down at me, then gently turned me toward the building, murmuring, “Go get ‘em, Tiger.”
I glanced over my shoulder, shot Donovan a dazzling smile, and then, with a determined tilt of my chin, I took the first tentative step toward a happier future.
All my life, I’d looked after everyone else.
I’d been a good daughter, a good sister, a good wife, and most of all, a good mom. Things hadn’t always gone to plan, and life had thrown enough curveballs to force me to fight tooth and nail to protect what I held dearest.
Now it was my turn.
My beloved dad had sent an angel to look after me.
I’d been given my reward.
And he was beautiful.