Chapter 11 #2
I’m outside chopping extra wood for the fireplaces when Sanford’s name pops up, calling. I slam the ax into the stump and pull off a glove with my teeth.
“Hey, Sanford. How you doing?” I ask.
“Wow. A proper greeting from the grump himself?”
“I can go back to answering with, the fuck you got for me?” I deadpan.
Laughing, he says, “Nah, I like this new you. It’s almost like my genius idea worked. Being a husband has done you some good.”
“What’s going on? Why you calling?” I ask, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear as I roll over the barrel to stack the wood on.
“I want you to trust me,” he says, suddenly serious. I drop the barrel.
“What’s happened? Are the girls okay?” I demand.
Sanford sighs heavily. “The girls are on their way to you now.”
“What?” It’s Tuesday. I just gave them back to Kristy yesterday morning. “What do you mean? What happened?” I rush inside, pulling off my work gloves and leaving them at the back porch door.
“CPS made a surprise routine check three hours ago. Kristy failed. Massively.”
My body stills as a deep chill locks my body at front door. “Are the girls okay?” I ask again, hearing the dark rasp in my own voice.
“They’re okay,” he rushes and assures me. “Listen, Hudson. They’re in the works of delivering a court-ordered approval to hand over temporarily–for now–full-time custody of the girls…to you.”
I’m conflicted. My heart is pounding in my chest with happiness cause I get the girls full-time, but fear and pain that something has happened, that they witnessed something that was serious enough to have CPS working quickly to remove them from Kristy…
“Tell me everything,” I ask him firmly.
“When CPS arrived, Kristy answered high and half-naked. She was…in the middle of–”
“For fuck’s sake, Sanford, you’re a grown ass adult. Say it how it is,” I growl, fury rushing up and down my veins, knowing the girls were there during this.
“She was fucking some MC guy and…the girls were locked in one of their rooms.”
“Fuck!” I punch the nearest wall, welcoming the radiating pain deep in my bones, the sting from broken skin at my knuckles.
“Keep it together,” Sanford demands. “You need to keep your shit together before CPS shows up to hand over the girls, you hear me, Wilder? Those girls need you to keep your shit together. Where’s Violet?”
“At her family home, checking in on her deadbeat father,” I grunt, flexing my hand, the ache in the movements flaring pain up my arm.
“Whatever you just did to your hand, go wrap that shit immediately, and if there’s a hole somewhere, put a fucking picture frame over it. This is not the time to give them one single doubt or reason to withhold full custody. Focus,” he orders.
I walk over to the kitchen, run my hand under ice-cold water and regulate my breathing as I listen.
“I got it locked down. Tell me.”
“There was enough evidence. From demanding Kristy unlock the girls' bedroom, to then seeing the girls upset, and Kristy fighting the rep and then the officer to warrant removal.”
The ire in my blood quickly turns to deep emotion. My eyes flood with tears as I rub my forehead, “They had to witness that shit, Sanford. They,” I choke.
“I know, Hud,” He keeps his voice low. “I wish they didn’t, and I hate for all of you that this is what’s getting us what we’ve fought for.
But now, we have to focus on the good. They get to come home to you.
You and that sunshine Violet will distract them with cookies, and whatever else has got all of you wrapped around her finger.
And together, your girls will heal from this.
Because of your love for them. That’s what matters right now. ”
He’s right. This was the thing I secretly hoped for. For Kristy to fuck up enough to guarantee custody. Be careful what you wish for, they say. My girls are paying the ultimate price.
Sanford relays what needs to be done until the judge finalizes his decision. We hang up, and I immediately call Vi.
“Hey,” she greets. “I should be done here in like twenty more–”
“Vi,” I croak, rubbing my eyes, breathing deeply.
“Hud? What’s wrong? What happened? Are the girls okay? Are you hurt?”
“The girls are on their way.”
She’s silent for a moment. “But it’s Tuesday, did something…oh God,” she whispers. “Did something happen?”
“Can you come home?” I ask, desperately needing her light right now to chase the darkness that has me wanting to drive over and verbally rip Kristy a new asshole while simultaneously begging the gods to reverse time and spare my daughters from that entire day.
“I’m on my way,” she says. That’s it. I asked, and she’s coming. No further questions. I really do love that woman.
The girls arrive and Lucy and Angie are crying into my arms, refusing the let me go, as Violet arrived ten minutes before they did and held me before CPS pulled in.
Silvie is numb, but thankfully, willing to listen to Violet as she guides us all inside.
It’s Ms. Barnes again, who pulled me outside for a minute, updating me on everything Sanford already did.
That was lucky because I was able to contain my emotions better in front of her.
“Officially,” she says, “this is a temporary order. But given the custody case you all were already finalizing, I can say with confidence, you’ll most likely have permanent custody as their primary parent before the New Year.”
“Thank you for helping them pack and being there for them through…that.” A knot tightens around my ribs, breathing being a chore.
“You’re a good man, Mr. Wilder. I’m sorry the system failed you and them.”
“I wasn’t always one,” I confess. “They had their reasons.”
“I’ve been on this case longer than you’ve known, have looked thoroughly through this case’s records. You aren’t everything that was reported against you. Hopefully, Ms. Abram gets the help she needs. For herself and for those girls.”
We shake hands, and I give myself a minute as she and the officer drive away. Once my throat doesn’t feel like hands are increasing pressure, stealing my oxygen, I turn around and prepare to be the rock my girls need and deserve.
The next two hours have felt heavy. I had to explain to the girls in a language they could understand that they would be living with me and Violet from now on. The expressions were conflicting. Joy but also worry.
“What’s going to happen to Mommy?” Lucy whispers, hugging her plushie.
We’re all snuggled in the oversized couch I bought, where we can lean back with our legs up.
I’m in the middle, Angie is glued to my left, Lucy’s to my right between me and Violet, and Silvie eventually allowed herself to accept support.
Violet offered her to lie on Vi’s lap while she combed Sil’s hair with her fingers.
“Mommy may have the judge tell her to get help from doctors and medicine for a while. She’s sick, and that sickness makes her selfish sometimes. But you know she loves you three very much.”
Silvie scoffs. I don’t correct her. She’s been the one carrying the role of mother.
I haven’t been there to truly know what she’s seen or experienced.
Right now, they are all allowed to feel what they need to.
I won’t pretend this shit isn’t fucked. Cause it is.
Even if I’m finally able to give them peace.
“So, when she gets better,” Angie asks, “do we have to leave you again and live with her?”
I run my hand over her head. “If the judge decides that you live with me full-time, that will stay permanent. If your mother proves she’s better and the judge lets her, she’ll visit you here, with me present.
But no, you don’t have to leave, and you won’t have to live with her again.
Is that what you girls want?” I ask, knowing that while to me, it’s an easy decision, that’s not guaranteed to be how they feel about it.
“I like living here. It’s clean, and smells nicer, and I like my room,” Lucy shares. “And I love Vi Vi,” she expresses for the first time.
Violet’s intake of breath has me reaching out and squeezing her thigh by Silvie’s head.
“I love you too, Luce. I love you all. So much. No matter what happens, I’ll always be available to you. All of you,” she says, looking me in the eye, hers misted over.
Silvie tilts her head up and looks at Violet. “You’re not going anywhere, right? You’re here to love us and Dad, forever?”
Shit.
Violet’s eyes dart to mine in slight panic. Leaning down, she caresses my oldest girl’s face. “I will always be here for you. I will love you all, forever, no matter what.”
Silvie is appeased and relaxes back against Violet’s thigh. My throat closes up, a hurricane of questions trying to pierce in, but I keep that door closed, focusing on giving my girls whatever they need tonight.
Both Violet and I put the girls to bed. They insisted on sleeping together, so Violet dubbed tonight ‘Sleepover in Sil’s Big Bed,’ to which Lucy and Angie ran in and jumped up and down laughing. Hearing laughter after earlier is a gift that almost brings me to my knees.
Violet creates a sea of pillows and blankets on Silvie’s queen-sized bed and sets up a Christmas movie for them to fall asleep to. They’re all out five minutes into it.
Now, it’s almost eleven and I’m dragging. My body feels like three trains rammed into it. Violet’s been contemplative. Both of us have been quietly doing our night routine, almost awkwardly bypassing the other in the bathroom.
I hate it.
Now more than ever, I want stability for my daughters. And I want Violet to be a part of that, but only if that’s what she truly wants. If we are what she truly wants.
We’re both in bed, being weird and quiet.
“How’s your hand?” she asks, glancing over at the bruises and cuts.