Chapter 25
The thing no one ever told me about being a mom or a dog owner or a responsible adult was that no matter how down in the dumps I went, the world kept on turning, and if I didn’t keep turning with it, I would eventually pay the price.
A dog still needed to do his business. A little girl still needed to eat. Work still needed to get done.
So it was Saturday morning, and Lucy and I were taking Sam The Dog for his usual walk, when an email notification from Rebecca popped up on my home screen.
I handed Lucy the leash as we stepped into the elevator.
I was curious to see what she had to say by email on a weekend morning that she couldn’t say by text, our usual mode of communication.
Lucy pressed the lobby button in the elevator while I skimmed the email.
Hi Thea, It gives me no pleasure to write this, but William and I are beyond worried at your ever more erratic behavior.
Out of deep concern for Lucy’s safety, we reluctantly decided to meet with a family lawyer to discuss our options if the situation continues to worsen.
Please believe us when we say we Do not want to take this step, but we’ve been advised that it would be within our rights to file a petition for temporary guardianship of Lucy if you refuse to get the help you need.
All we’ve been asking for is confirmation that your boyfriend isn’t someone with malicious intent, and for you to speak with a professional about your misguided belief that what you write comes true.
We didn’t want to have to issue an ultimatum, but here we are.
Please show us that you’re willing to cooperate by the end of next week or we will be forced to take legal action.
For all our sakes, we hope you won’t let it come to that. We love you both. —R&W
I gasped in horror. Lucy and Sam The Dog both looked up at me with alarm. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“We just need to make this a quick walk because I have to talk to Frannie about something,” I said.
“Talk to her about what, Mommy?” Lucy asked.
“Nothing to worry about, Jellybean,” I responded, hoping she didn’t pick up on my voice cracking with the lie.
“Then why are your eyes wet?” she probed.
I pressed my palms into my eyeballs, gave my head a little shake.
“Just some dust in my eyes. Come on, let’s go.
” I forwarded the email to Frannie as an SOS, and we walked for just long enough to allow Sam The Dog to do his thing.
My anxiety turned into righteous anger as I reread the email in the elevator on our way back up.
They were the ones who were out of their minds.
The utter gall to think they could march into a courtroom armed with conjecture and lies and walk out with my daughter.
My fingers itched to type out a response, but I refrained, at least for the moment.
Fortunately, Frannie was waiting for us in the apartment. After their ritual godmother/goddaughter greeting, I asked Lucy to go play in her room. She and Sam The Dog scampered off.
“Whew, that email.” Frannie whistled as soon as Lucy was out of earshot.
“I know, right?” I said, grateful for my ally. “Can you help me write a reasonable response? All I can think of are swear words.”
“I hate to say it, but I think maybe you should consult your own lawyer before you respond.”
“Why?” I stared back at her. “Do you really think I need to? How would I even find one? I don’t know any lawyers other than that ‘bruh’ guy you set me up with, and he was an entertainment lawyer.”
Frannie jumped up from the couch. “I’m calling my dad.”
Before I could react, she’d stepped into my bedroom and closed the door.
In addition to being a Hollywood superagent, Frannie’s dad was also superconnected and a supergiant asshole.
Frannie hated asking him for anything because he turned everything into a negotiation—and he always exacted a price for his concessions eventually.
That she was willing to make this call indicated how seriously she was taking the situation.
I loved her for that. And it also scared the living daylights out of me.
While I waited for Frannie to emerge, I checked my phone again for a reply from Max and texted him three more times.
And drank my third cup of coffee for the morning.
Finally, Frannie opened the door. “My dad got you an appointment with a family law attorney named Tim Kelley on Monday at ten a.m.,” she said, handing me a piece of paper on which she’d scribbled his name and address.
“He’s probably pretty expensive, knowing my dad. But I’m sure he’s good.”
“Thanks,” I said as a thought occurred to me.
“Involving your dad in this isn’t going to come back to bite me with my book-to-film deal, right?
” I knew that was the least of my concerns, but he did represent the producer who’d optioned my book, and I didn’t want Harper to miss out on the fruits of yet another deal on my account.
At some point, she was bound to lose patience.
“Absolutely not,” Frannie assured me. “If there’s one truism about my dad, it’s that he never lets anything interfere with making a buck. And anyway, I didn’t tell him what this was about. Only that it didn’t involve your book.”
“Thank you,” I said, fiddling with the paper containing my new lawyer’s name and address. “I’m sure this will turn out to be overkill, but I guess it’s good to show the Packers that I’m not just going to roll over.”
Frannie nodded. In lieu of a verbal response, she gave me a wan smile and a hug. I wanted to be reassured by the gesture, but it felt more like pity and instead filled me with dread over the upcoming meeting.