Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
B utch calls me at work the first Wednesday of December, and his strained greeting sets off my internal alarms. Before I can ask what’s wrong, he blurts it out.
He hasn’t spoken much about this looming court battle, and I’ve been reticent to bring it up.
From the tidbits he’s shared, it sounds as if he’s done all he can and given his attorney everything she asked for, including details, dates, and names for affidavits.
As a man of action, he’s not treating it lightly, but he also doesn’t dwell on it.
I grapple with what to say. “Finally.”
“Yeah. I’m ready to put this behind me,” he says tersely. “It’s dragged on long enough.”
“Do you want me to come with you? Or if you need me to watch Emmy, I can do that too.” It’s a leap, but I’ll support him anyway I can.
“Let’s talk about that later, once we figure it all out, okay?”
“Of course. Is there anything I can do for you right now?” My heart aches, knowing how scary this is for Butch and what it means for not only him, but his entire family.
“Just…don’t bail on me. I’m worried this will scare you away,” he admits, his vulnerability laid bare.
“Baby…no. It won’t.” What kind of callous human would I be to leave him high and dry? Especially when more and more, I believe we have the potential to go the distance.
“It’s a lot.”
“I’m here for you.” I think I’m in love with you.
He lets loose an audible breath. “Okay.”
“Can I…” Just say it. “Ask you more about this tonight, when we both have privacy?”
“Sure.” He sounds so stressed, I second guess myself.
Butch calls after Emmy’s asleep. “Hey, baby.”
“Hi.” I sit up straighter on the couch and mute the television. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m a fucking wreck.”
The center of my chest twinges and tightens. “I know this is awful.”
“It’s all the unknowns.” He exhales a strong breath. “Will the judge think it’s in Emmy’s best interest for her to stay in only my care? If he awards joint custody, what will that do to Emmy? How can I protect her? How can I trust Darlene ever again?”
“What does Emmy know about her mom?”
“She thinks her mother left because of what I described as ‘the troubles in her mind.’ I’ve made sure to emphasize it wasn’t Emmy’s fault.”
“You thought Darlene was mentally ill?”
“I don’t know if, technically, that was accurate, but it’s my perception and perspective. I mean, it’s not natural to up and leave your child. Maybe she does, or did, have mental health problems. ”
“Was she depressed?”
“Not that I was aware of, but she struggled after Emmy was born. Never really regained her typical disposition.”
I sink further into the sofa cushions, trying to make sense of it. “Do you think she had postpartum depression? I don’t know much about that other than it’s real for some mothers and sounds scary. I’ve heard stories where their anxiety or despair makes them a danger to their child.”
“Thankfully, it was nothing like that. Darlene just wanted to get out of our small town and live a different life. At least, that’s what she told me.” A weariness coats his words.
It’s hard to fathom. “Do you think Emmy would want to know her mom?”
“It’s not her mother,” he snaps. “ Shit . I’m sorry.”
I pause, giving him space to explain.
“That’s the rub, isn’t it? I have no idea. Maybe it would be good for my daughter to know her… Darlene. A bond could probably still form. But goddamn it, how do I trust her ever again? What if she hurts Em?”
It’s agonizing, all of it. “I don’t know,” I whisper, hoping the justice system makes the right choice.