Chapter 8 #2
“Fuck, you should have seen their asshole faces when Paula packed her bags and left home when she was sixteen, shouting she was a lesbian.” A chuckle followed, but the sound was tense, something it often was whenever he talked about Paula.
“And she went and lived with your parents?” Granger pressed.
While Cass nodded, I said, “Mama T and Pop took us in, supported us with everything. When I turned eighteen, my small inheritance from my grandaddy was released. Cass’s folks refused to take anything, so I used it to help complete my associate’s degree and law enforcement training.
The rest I gave to Paula to help with community college. ”
Granger jotted down notes and asked, “So your parents didn’t provide any financial support or contribute in any way once you left home at what… seventeen?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. I worked at a local diner after school and on weekends, and other than my inheritance, which helped a little with college fees, Cass’s parents took care of the rest.”
“Okay, that’s shitty, but it’s good for this situation.”
Relaxing at his words, feeling like he really did think this whole thing was indeed shitty, I exhaled.
We spent the next forty minutes going through my history, Paula’s, when I’d moved back to Minneapolis—or more specifically Zumbrota—and everything I knew about my parents.
Granger spouted legalese, most of which I understood thanks to working in the system and attending court more times than I liked over the years, especially when I used to be based in Detroit.
“I have a copy of Paula’s will.” Granger displayed it on the screen for all three of us to see. “She had this created when she was eight months pregnant.”
“Yeah. She was organized as hell.” My lips twitched in fondness at the memory of my sister, despite the shroud of sadness that came whenever I thought of her.
I didn’t add that she’d also written me a letter after that.
Though I hadn’t received it until long after her death.
“She asked me to take on guardianship for Mikey if anything was to happen to her.”
“And Mikey’s birth certificate indicates no father’s name. Records show she used a donor.”
I looked dead ahead and stopped myself from shifting uncomfortably. “That’s right. She was inseminated at a clinic.”
“And she was single. No partner to ask for custody?”
“That’s right. My sister was always fiercely independent. She would have been a great mom.” I swallowed hard, the dry click in my throat sounding loud in the meeting room.
Cass’s hand appeared on my shoulder, offering a firm squeeze.
“She would have been amazing,” he said at my side. “But you’re an incredible dad.”
I angled to look at him. Our gazes connected, and I drew strength from the familiar eyes, the certainty staring back at me. I bobbed my head.
“Okay, this is all good.”
Granger’s words drew my attention back. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely. From what I see here, your parents have no real chance at custody. Your sister’s wishes were clear, but we do need to look at visitation.”
Panic shot through me, making my shoulders stiffen. “I don’t want them anywhere near Mikey.”
Understanding morphed Granger’s features.
“They’re nasty pieces of work, Granger. They wrap their hate in Christian scripture, and while they’ve since moved out to Owatonna, my mom’s heard talk of more than a few anti-LGBTQ groups the Turners have been active in.”
I watched Cass as he spoke, his jaw tensing, distaste and anger in every word.
“Now, my mom and pop are God-loving Christians. Attend chapel every Sunday. The difference here being the focus on love and not the hate the Turners spew. What do we need to do to make sure they don’t have any rights? That they stay as far away from Mikey and Dylan as possible?”
The tripping of my heart didn’t surprise me. It never did when it came to Cass and how fiercely he loved and protected me. It had always been this way between us, and I was grateful for his love of green gummy bears and my obsession with red every damn day.
I reached out and squeezed Cass’s forearm, drawing his attention to me. In response, he winked, letting me know we had this. Together and always.
Granger leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the table, drew both our attention.
His gaze was laser-focused, dancing between me and Cass, studying us intently. A beat later, he nodded.
“What?” Cass asked. “You’ve thought of something.”
Granger’s brow quirked. “Mikey needs grandparents.”
I parted my lips to argue, but Granger’s raised hand stopped me.
“He needs a support system, extended family so he’s clearly not ‘missing out on anything,’” he said, complete with air quotes.
“Your history, your estrangement, already puts you in good stead. What we don’t want is a sympathetic judge.
Fighting visitation rights will be easier if you do two things. ”
I was already nodding, my pulse accelerating. Anything for Mikey. And anything to keep my asshole parents out of our world.
Cass’s “Name it and we’ll do it” had me squeezing his arm once again.
“The two of you get married and adopt Mikey. Make him yours officially and become a family.”