18. The Hearing Approaches
THE HEARING APPROACHES
Ethan
The first thing I do is fire Vivian.
Not for the email. That was her job. She put the worst option in front of me so I could reject it, and I did.
I fire her for the other thing.
The thing I found out three hours after I sent Lani the email thread, after Malcolm called me, after my head stopped pounding long enough to think.
Vivian leaked the photo.
Not the article. Not the speculation. The photo itself. The grainy zoom of Lani in her green jacket walking into my building, the one that's now on three gossip sites and a financial news blog. Malcolm's office traced the photo back to Vivian.
She did it days before any of this broke. She wanted to be the one I called when the story landed. She created the crisis so she could be the one to fix it.
That is not strategy. That is sabotage.
I fire her in person. I do not raise my voice. Security takes her ID at the elevator. Malcolm's office has a non-disclosure drafted by the time she reaches the lobby. The terms are non-negotiable. She'll sign because the alternative is litigation she cannot win.
I walk back to my office. Put my hands flat on the desk and breathe for a long minute.
I am tired. That's all I feel.
Lani is in the kitchen when I get home.
She's on a stool with her laptop, a half-eaten plate of toast next to her. She's working on an advisory deck for a former investor. She looks up when I walk in.
“You did it.”
“How did you ...”
“Malcolm's assistant called Maya. Maya called me.” She closes the laptop. “Are you okay?”
I take the stool across from her.
“Six years,” I say. “She was part of everything. She was at Lily's first birthday party.” I stop. “I don't know why she did it.”
“You'll find out.”
“Yeah.” I run a hand over my face. “I don't want to find out before Tuesday.”
She gets up and walks toward me. Puts her hand on the back of my neck. Pulls me forward until my forehead is against her stomach.
I close my eyes.
“Four days,” she says above me.
“Four days.”
“What does Malcolm say?”
“He says we're in good shape on the facts. The court order is on our side. Tessa missed four years of every deadline, every motion, every chance she had to start a relationship with Lily. The pattern is in the record.” I keep my eyes closed.
“But there's still a judge. Judges have moods. And now there's a photograph.”
“And the photograph doesn't change the facts.”
“No. But it tells a story. And the story can move a judge.”
Her hand stays on the back of my neck.
“Then we make sure the real story is in the room,” she says. “Not the photograph.”
I look up at her.
“How?”
“By telling the truth. About all of it. The relationship.
The baby. The fact that I moved in to be safe, not to play house.
The fact that I know about Tessa, and I respect that she's Lily's mother.
The fact that we're a family that includes Lily's mother, whether she shows up or not.” Her voice stays steady.
“If we hide it, the photograph wins. If we put it on the table ourselves, the photograph becomes a footnote.”
“Malcolm and I were going to give the judge a sealed brief.”
“Then seal it. But put me in it.”
I look at her.
I have spent days trying to keep her out of the legal narrative. Trying to protect her name and the baby from any of this. And here she is offering to walk into it on purpose.
“You'd do that,” I say.
“I'd do that.”
“Why?”
“Because hiding is what got us here, Ethan.” She holds my gaze. “I'm tired of being a secret. Lily knows something is going on. I'd rather be in the brief than be a photograph.”
I take her hand. Press my mouth to her wrist.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay.”
“I'll call Malcolm in the morning.”
“Call him tonight.”
I laugh, low and rough and exhausted. “Okay.”
She pulls back and goes to her laptop and her toast, and I go upstairs to call Malcolm.
The next morning, Tessa's lawyer files a motion.
Malcolm calls me at 7 a.m. before I've finished my coffee.
“They're requesting an expedited supplemental brief,” he says. “They want to introduce the photograph and the gossip site article into evidence. They want to argue that the new relationship and the pregnancy constitute a material change in the household.”
“A material change.”
“It's a stretch. The court order is settled.
But they're going to argue you have a new partner living with a four-year-old.
And a pregnancy that wasn't disclosed in the pre-hearing brief.” His voice stays even.
“It's not strong enough to change the outcome. But it does mean the hearing is going to be harder than we planned.”
I stare at the wall.
“What do they want?”
“Joint custody. That's what they want. But they're also asking for a supervised home study before any custody order is amended. They want a social worker in your penthouse evaluating Lily's living situation.”
“When?”
“The day before the hearing.”
A social worker. In my penthouse. With Lily there. With Lani there. Twenty-four hours before the hearing.
“Can they get it?”
“It's at the judge's discretion. But yes.”
“Malcolm.”
“I know.”
“What do I do?”
A pause.
“You let them come,” he says. “You let them see the truth. You let the social worker write what she sees.” Another pause. “You stop hiding.”
“That's the same advice Lani gave me last night.”
“Smart woman.”
“Yeah.” I rub my face. “Okay. We let them come.”
“I'll call you back when the order comes through.”
He hangs up.
I walk down to the kitchen to tell Lani. A stranger is coming to evaluate whether my daughter is safe with us.
Lily wakes up at 7:30 a.m. and pads into the kitchen in her purple pajamas, dragging Bun behind her by one ear.
“Daddy.”
“Hey, bug.”
“Why are you and Lani not eating?”
“We're talking.”
“About boring things?”
“Yes. About boring things.”
“Can I have eggs?”
“Yes.”
She climbs onto the stool next to Lani and watches me crack eggs.
Someone is going to walk into this kitchen with a clipboard and see if we're a real family.
I crack another egg.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, bug.”
“Can Lani come to my parent day at school?”
The whisk stops.
I look at Lani.
She's frozen.
“Sweetheart,” Lani says. “Your daddy can come to parent day. That's his job.”
“But there's two spots.” Lily holds up two fingers. “Both parents come. Madison's mommy and daddy come. Marcus's mommy and his other daddy come. Two spots. Daddy has one. Can you have the other?”
Lani looks at me.
I look at her.
“Lily, bug,” I say. “Can you come help me with the eggs?”
She slides off the stool and comes around the island. I lift her up and let her stir the pan.
“We'll talk about parent day at dinner,” I tell her. “Tonight. The three of us. We're going to talk about a lot of things.”
Lily nods like that's reasonable. Stirs the eggs.
Lani meets my eyes over Lily's head.
She knows what I'm going to say at dinner.
I am tired.
I am also ready.