23. Alison #2
My head lifts. Arthur glances at me once — he knew that name would get me.
“Mrs. O’Farrell first met the family after they moved to Edgewood in July.
Months ago. She barely knows me.” He reads.
“’I don’t have the history with Alison that the other adults submitting statements have.
I met her only after her family moved here last summer.
’” He pauses. “’When I first met the O’Tooles, I assumed Alison was Tobias’s mother. ’”
My mouth falls open. Behind me, Cassandra makes a tiny sound.
Arthur keeps reading. “’No one told me that.
It was an assumption I made from watching them.
Tobias stayed near Alison. When he needed something, he asked her.
In a new place, he reached for her hand.
She checked whether he’d eaten, fixed his clothes, kept track of his things, and responded to him with the automatic familiarity of someone who does those things every day.
It wasn’t until Jane referred to Tobias as her son that I understood I’d misread it. ’”
I blink through tears.
“’I want to be clear that I barely know Alison O’Toole,’” Arthur reads, “’and I don’t think pretending otherwise would help her or make me more credible.
What I can offer is the view of someone who came into this family’s life with no history at all.
What I saw, immediately, was a young woman functioning as a parent to her little brother.
If that was obvious to me before I knew any of their history, I think it’s worth saying now. ’”
That is so completely Fiona I almost laugh through the crying. She didn’t have six years. She didn’t need them.
Arthur submits the rest of the family statements without burying them under a list of names — Callum and Saoirse, who’ve known me since I was born; Thomas; Clifford and Louise; Gideon and Alice; Theodore and Katya.
Each one says what they personally saw. Each one offers help if I need it — housing, transportation, childcare, school, money, medical care, help with the baby.
And not one of them asks for Tobias. Every single one asks the court to let him stay with me.
Then Arthur closes the folder. “Your Honor, the defense has placed considerable emphasis on Alison’s current residence and her reliance on the Harrington family.” He turns. “I’d like to call Walter Harrington.”
Walter stands. My chest tightens before he even reaches the stand.
After he’s sworn in, Arthur approaches. “Mr. Harrington, how long have you known Alison O’Toole?”
Walter looks at me. “Since the day she was born.”
My eyes burn instantly.
“And her parents?”
“Before that. Our families have known each other since before any of the kids came along. They all grew up around each other.”
“And Tobias?”
“His whole life.”
“So you’ve watched Alison and Tobias together for six years. Before she began dating your son.”
Walter looks almost offended by the understatement. “Yes.”
“Before she became pregnant. Before Jane died.”
“Yes.” His face changes on the last one.
“Tell the court what their relationship looked like when Tobias was little.”
Walter takes a moment. “He reached for her.”
“What do you mean?” Arthur asks, not letting it pass.
“When Tobias was a baby, if Ally walked into the room, he’d reach for her. Both arms out. Didn’t matter who was holding him.”
“Even Jane?”
“Even Jane.” A sad smile touches his mouth.
“Jane used to laugh about it. She’d be holding her own baby, and Ally would walk past, and he’d start twisting around trying to get to her.
Jane would say, ‘Apparently I’m chopped liver,’ and hand him over.
” I remember that. God, I remember that — Mom pretending to be wounded while Tobias buried his face in my neck. “Ally took him every time.”
“Did that change when he got older?”
“No. He followed her everywhere once he could walk. Little shadow.” I wipe under my eye. “If he fell, sometimes he’d go to Jane. Sometimes he’d run right past her to Ally.”
“And Jane’s reaction?”
“She was never threatened by it. She knew.” Walter’s voice roughens. “She knew Ally was one of Tobias’s people.”
Arthur lets that sit. “Did you ever get the sense Alison resented it?”
“No.”
“Did she ever get annoyed with him?”
Walter almost smiles. “Of course she did. He’s her little brother. I’ve heard her tell him to get out of her room.”
A tiny, wet laugh escapes me. Thank God — somebody finally says something normal.
“But?”
“But if he came back five minutes later crying, she opened the door.” His eyes find mine. “She always opened the door.”
Arthur steps closer. “Let’s talk about now. Alison and Tobias live in your home. What does that arrangement look like?”
“They live there. It’s their home.”
“Temporarily? Are they guests?”
“No.” His answer is flat and immediate. “Our house is their home for as long as they need it or want it. Both of them have their own room.”
“Is their ability to stay dependent on Alison continuing a relationship with Ryan?”
“No.”
Behind me, Ryan shifts.
“If Alison and Ryan broke up tomorrow?”
“They’d still have a home. For as long as they needed one.”
I look down before Walter can see me cry again.
“What financial support are you prepared to provide?”
“Whatever she needs.” Arthur just waits, and Walter knows him well enough now to elaborate. “Food. Clothing. School. Transportation. Medical. Whatever Tobias needs. Childcare.” His eyes move to my stomach. “And when the baby comes, we help with the baby too.”
“Her education?”
“She finishes high school.” No hesitation. “After that — if she wants college, we help make it happen. If she wants to work, we help with childcare. If she needs time with the baby first, she takes it.”
“Would you expect repayment? Rent?”
“No. Neither.”
“Does that make Alison financially independent?”
“No.” Roman’s attorney looks up. Walter doesn’t so much as blink. “She’s eighteen.”
“Does her dependence concern you?”
“No.” He glances back at Ryan. “I’ve raised an eighteen-year-old. My son still lives in my house, eats my food, and I still pay for things. I don’t expect either of them to prove they’re grown by pretending they don’t need help.”
Arthur nods. “Is your willingness to support Alison influenced by the fact that she’s carrying your grandchild?”
“Yes.” He looks at me. “I love Ally. And she’s carrying my grandchild, and that makes her family in another way, too.” Then back to the judge. “But that isn’t why I believe Tobias belongs with her.”
“Why do you believe that?”
“Because I’ve watched them for six years.
” His voice cracks. “I don’t need a school form to tell me who that little boy looks for when he’s scared.
I’ve watched him do it. I’ve watched him reach for Ally since he was small enough to need someone to hold him up.
I’ve watched her grow up while she was raising him right alongside Jane. ”
Arthur lets him breathe. “Are you asking this court to award you custody?”
“No.”
“Would you take Tobias if you had to?”
“In a heartbeat. Both of them.”
“Then why aren’t you asking?”
Walter looks straight at me.
“Because Tobias already has Ally. Cassandra and I don’t need to replace her. We need to make sure she has everything she needs to keep doing what she’s already been doing.”
A tear slides down my cheek.
“No further questions.”
Roman’s attorney stands. “Mr. Harrington, you’ve known Alison since birth. You love her. You’ve watched her grow up. Your son is in a relationship with her, and she’s pregnant with your son’s child.”
“Yes,” Walter says, to all of it.
“So you aren’t an objective witness.”
Walter considers him. “No.” The attorney pauses, like he wasn’t expecting the honesty. “No. I’m not objective.”
He recovers, almost pleased. “So you admit you’re biased in Ms. O’Toole’s favor.”
“I admit I love her.”
“And that your opinion of her fitness is influenced by that.”
“My opinion is.” Walter nods toward the exhibits. “The last six years aren’t.”
The attorney’s mouth tightens. “You’ve offered to support Ms. O’Toole indefinitely. Which means, practically, that you’d be subsidizing Tobias’s upbringing.”
“If that’s the word you want.”
“Would she be capable of the same standard of care without your money?”
Arthur is up. “Objection. Speculation.”
“Sustained.”
The attorney changes course. “If Alison and Ryan’s relationship deteriorates — even badly — you’re asking this court to believe nothing about your support would change?”
Walter’s expression hardens. “You’re asking whether I’d punish a six-year-old because my son got his heart broken.”
“I’m asking whether—“
“No.” Arthur half rises.
The judge lifts a hand. “Mr. Harrington, answer only the question.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Walter’s jaw works. Then, level: “My answer is that my support would continue. All of it.”
“No further questions.”
Walter steps down. He doesn’t hug me — not here. He just touches my shoulder as he passes. It’s enough.
“Cassandra Harrington,” Arthur says. She walks to the stand already blinking too fast. After she’s sworn in, he gives her a moment. “Mrs. Harrington, how long have you known Alison?”
“Since she was born. And Tobias since he was born. Like Walter, I knew the family before either of them existed.”
“You’re also a mother. How does that shape what you’ve seen between Alison and Tobias?”
Cassandra takes a breath. “I know what mothering looks like.”
My eyes burn.
She looks toward the judge. “I know Jane was Tobias’s mother. She loved him. I don’t want a single word I say to sound like I’m taking that from her.” Her voice trembles. “But Jane wasn’t the only person mothering that little boy. Ally was.”
I look down.
“When Tobias was a baby, Jane and Ally moved around him almost like a team. Jane would be making a bottle while Ally changed him. Ally would be finding a blanket while Jane got him dressed. Each of them always knew what the other had already done.” She looks at me.
“Ally was still a child herself. But she knew him.”
“What do you mean by that?”