Chapter 25
OLIVIA
Waverly
Ummm . . . where does Pops keep the earplugs?
Rafe
Locked up in the gun closet. Why?
Jasper
Don’t bother. They don’t work.
Waverly
Really? I need to sleep.
Rafe
Oh yeah. You might want to get a pair of the Apple ones I have.
Waverly
Are they noise canceling?
Rafe
Yup.
Logan
What the hell are you guys talking about?
Waverly
Don’t ask.
Logan
Then why did you include me in the text, Waves?
Waverly
Umm . . . I didn’t think.
Jasper
You’ve been loud as fuck, brother. Earplugs don’t even drown you two out.
Olivia
OMG. Stop.
Rafe
Seriously, it’s been two fucking weeks. How are you not chafed, man?
Jasper
Yeah. What the hell? You weren’t this loud last month.
Waverly
Aww . . . Logan. How exciting! Did you finally find Liv’s clit? I feel like that should be celebrated.
Olivia
I can confirm navigation is not a problem for your brother.
Jasper
And I’m out.
**Jasper has left the chat**
Olivia
Oh, I don’t think so.
**Jasper has been added to the chat**
Jasper
WTF Waves?
Waverly
I didn’t do it.
Olivia
Oopsie.
—Waverly’s text to the group chat
Logan smells like grass and rain and something intoxicatingly him as he buries his face in my hair and my heart slams against my chest as he groans. “I fucking hate this.”
“Go. I’ve got this,” I murmur against his shoulder and adjust my hold on a squirming Maggie.
“It’s only a few hours, and we’ll FaceTime you as soon as little Miss Maggie May gets back, won’t we, ladybug?
” I ask and blow a raspberry against her cheek until her giggles break the somber mood.
She might not know what we’re talking about, but I’m positive she feels the tension surrounding us.
I knew Logan would struggle with leaving today.
Neither of us is ready to let Monica take Maggie anywhere, even if it’s only for a few hours. Her canceling her first visit only postponed the inevitable and somehow makes this one that much harder.
Not to mention, we were notified yesterday that our case will go to court the first week in December. Five weeks from now. It’s all a little too raw and out of our control at the moment, and I’m positive Logan would skip today’s game if he could, but it wouldn’t make anything better.
His arms tighten around us, and he kisses Maggie’s head, then mine. “Love you, baby. Be good for Livvy, okay?”
Maggie claps her hands and smiles up at me. “My Livvy.”
What?
My heart stops and swells.
Did she just . . . ?
“Did you just—” Shaken, I try to grab hold of my spiraling emotions and look from the beautiful little girl in my arms to her daddy. “Did you hear that?” I whisper.
Maggie likes the attention and looks at her daddy. “My daddy.”
She only switched from Dadda to Daddy some time last week, and I thought Logan was going to cry the first time she said it. But right now, he seems so sad, I’m the one who wants to cry. “Go, Logan. You’re going to miss the flight, and you’ve got to go. I’ve got this. I promise.”
He nods and kisses us both before he walks away.
We watch him go, and I’m not sure who’s more upset—me or the one-year-old.
There’s a difference between sitting across a courtroom from someone and them walking into your house to take your . . . my what? Stepdaughter? Somehow that doesn’t feel like the right term. But what other option do I have?
This woman . . . the one standing in front of me in what I’ve come to think of as my kitchen, with dark hair and sunken, sad eyes . . . the one not any bigger than I am, who looks like she couldn’t hurt a fly if she tried . . . She’s Maggie’s mom. Not me.
Waverly sits on the stool at the island with Maggie next to her as I add a sippy cup of apple juice to her diaper bag and tuck it in next to the baggie full of the colorful goldfish crackers she loves. “What are you two planning to do?”
The words are as cheerful as I can manage, but they’re also carefully chosen.
They’re not aggressive.
They’re not confrontational.
She doesn’t have to tell me anything.
She just has to have her back in two hours.
The nicer I am now, the better this will hopefully go in the future.
And that’s my job. To think about the future.
To help Logan keep custody and mitigate the fallout from this hell.
“We’re going to the park on the other side of town,” she tells me, barely able to hold eye contact.
This woman doesn’t seem at all like the woman he talks about.
I have a hard time picturing her as a puck bunny, hanging out at bars and hanging on whatever player was willing to give her the time of day the way he described.
“The one on the other side of the bridge?” Waverly asks, and Monica nods and smiles softly at Maggie.
She hasn’t even tried to hold her yet, and Maggie hasn’t given her the time of day.
“Well.” I grab both handles of the bag and hand it to Monica. “That’s everything.” I quickly scribble my number on a piece of paper and push it her way. “This is my number. Logan is away for a game, so if you need anything . . . anything at all, please call.”
She nods and shoulders the bag, then moves to Waverly and looks at Maggie.
Just looks at her with something that seems a whole lot like fear in her eyes. “Hi, Magnolia.”
Maggie hides her face in Waverly’s neck, and my heart lurches in my chest.
It’s only two hours becomes the mantra I repeat over and over in my head.
Two hours.
I can do this.
But the thing is . . . the world can change in two hours.
“Where the fuck is she?” Jasper growls as he moves into the family room, where Waverly and I sit, counting down the minutes. “She’s ten minutes late.”
“We know,” Waverly snaps, all of us on edge.
“She should have been back by now,” he argues.
“We know,” I add, watching the minutes tick by on my phone.
“Should we go to the park?” he asks, and I try to slow my breathing and calm my nerves.
“Not yet. Let’s give her five more minutes. I don’t want us going one way while she’s coming another.” Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind nonstop for the past ten minutes.
“We’d see her car coming if she’s coming from the park by the lake. There’s only one way to get here. She’d have to pass us,” he says and shakes his keys. “Come on. I’ll drive.”
Waverly and I both jump up, but I stop and look at my sister-in-law. “Can you stay here in case she shows up? She could have ended up somewhere else, and we might not see her coming.”
“Okay,” she agrees, her voice shaking.
I run upstairs and grab my purse and shoes, then meet Jasper in the driveway.
Time to get our girl and make sure her mother never pulls this shit again.
We’re five minutes from the house when my phone rings. “It’s Monica.”
I swipe my shaking finger across the screen and don’t even get to say her name before Monica’s cries fill the cab of the truck, and my heart plummets.
“Olivia?” she sobs uncontrollably.
“Slow down, Monica. I can barely understand you. What’s happening? Where are you? Where’s Maggie? Is she okay?”
“Liv?” Jasper asks, and I shake my head.
I can barely hear Monica. I don’t need him talking over her.
“Magnolia fell off the slide. We’re at the hospital.”
Deep breaths. I can do this. I can handle a crisis.
What do I always tell everyone? Hysterics don’t help.
“Which hospital, Monica? We’re on our way.”
I relay her directions to Jasper, who’s white-knuckling the steering wheel. “We’ll be there in under ten, Liv.”
“Got it,” I tell him. “We’ll be there in ten minutes, Monica. Where’s Maggie now? Is she there with you? Can she hear me?”
“No,” she cries. “She’s in the room with the doctor. They made me step out.”
“You’re her mother. Get back in that room, and do not leave until the second I get there, do you understand me? She’s a minor. They can’t kick you . . .” My words die on my tongue.
“Liv?” Jasper questions, and I shake my head.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can.” I end the call with Monica and look at Jasper. “Get there. They wouldn’t kick her out unless they thought it was her fault.”
“Like she looked away?” he asks.
“No. Like she caused it.”
With Jasper at my back, we rush through the pediatric ER at the local hospital until a nurse takes pity on us and shows us to the private room Monica is standing outside of. She’s still crying, and she’s not alone.
“Do we know him?” I whisper to Jasper.
“No, we fucking don’t.” He tries to move me behind him, but I refuse to be moved.
“Monica.” I stop next to her and take in the bruise blooming on her cheek and the hold he has on her arm. I want to take pictures. Ask questions. Find out what the hell is going on. But I want my baby more. “Where is she?”
“She’s in there,” she tells me, pointing to the closed door behind us with trembling fingers. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
“Let’s go,” the man holding her arm orders and pushes her in front of him as Monica winces, hissing from his tight hold.
Jasper takes a step toward them, but I grab his arm and shake my head. “Find the cops,” I whisper. “Tell them why we’re here and what just happened.”
“You want me in there with you first?” he asks.
“No. We need the police.”
I take in three more steadying breaths before letting myself in the room where what appears to be a doctor and a nurse are huddled around Maggie.
“Excuse me.”
They both turn, and I get my first look at Maggie, her tear-filled eyes rimmed red, her sleeve torn, and her little arm casted. “Oh, baby . . .”
“And you are?” the nurse asks, and I walk past her and sit on the bed beside Magnolia.
“I’m her stepmother. Her mother just left.” I open my arms when my baby clumsily climbs into my lap, banging her cast against me, and another crocodile tear falls down her face. “What happened?”
The young doctor steps forward, her face carefully devoid of emotion, hiding everything I want to know.
“Magnolia has a distal radius fracture on her forearm.” She points to the x-ray hanging on the wall.
“Right here. By her wrist. We’ve set the bone and casted the arm.
She shouldn’t need to be in it for more than three to six weeks.
Children heal quickly. Much more quickly than adults.
Their bones are still growing, so that aspect isn’t as bad. ”
“How does something like this happen?” I ask as Maggie rests her head on my shoulder.
“We have a few questions about that. Are you able to answer them for us, Ms. . . . ?”
“Adler,” I fill in for them.
“Owie,” Maggie babbles, and my heart breaks.
I brush my lips against her head and look at the doctor. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Jasper walks into the room, and all eyes turn to him, but he just shakes his head.
Guess he couldn’t locate any officers.
I start my mental checklist.
Call Nina. Find out what we know about Monica’s fiancé, assuming that was who was with her. Speak to the police. And I haven’t even spoken to Logan yet. I can’t imagine he’ll even get my text until after his game.
“It looks like her mother has left the hospital, so I’m not sure about those answers.” Jasper comes to stand by my side, and the doctor looks between us.
“Mr. Adler?”
“No,” Jasper answers. “His brother.”
“Her father is out of town for work,” I tell them, dreading what’s going to happen when her father finds out what happened. “And I know he’ll have questions as well. But for now, can you please tell me how to take care of the cast and the pain and when we can go home?”
The nurse hands me a printout, and I resist the urge to cry.
The urge to find Monica and hold her down until she tells me what the hell happened to my baby is a little harder of a battle to win.