HeartStrings Page 12

"Did I have a DNA test? No." Shay shook her head. How was she going to get one now? "I don't have any doubt that Brian is the father. Brian may have been cheating on me, but I never cheated on him."

  "He was unfaithful? Do you have proof?" The woman flipped through the pages.

  "I saw him with his . . . well, in the act. That's when I left him." Shay wrung her hands. She'd hoped to come in and have the lawyer tell her she had everything she needed and everything would be okay. It wasn't going down that way and Shay was getting even more nervous than when she'd come in.

  "So the infidelity precipitated the divorce?"

  Shay paused a moment, "Yes. It did. I walked."

  Then she waited, watching as the woman looked at paper after paper, occasionally making a small noise of thought. When Shay couldn't take it anymore, she blurted out, "Is this even possible?"

  "Should be." But the woman didn't even look up. "The back child support is the biggie."

  Shay wasn't sure "biggie" was a plausible legal term. She wasn't ready for the follow up question.

  "Will he be able to back pay it? He'll be given the chance to make amends first." She'd stopped looking over the pages and was staring at Shay again, as though this was going to be the roadblock.

  "No." Of that, Shay was certain. "He does not have the money."

  "Will be able to set up a payment plan to cover it?" She still hadn't looked back down to the papers, just kept staring at Shay.

  "Well. That depends." Shay looked down at her hands as she was wringing them and willed herself to stop. "He can set up a plan. As in, he can tell you about it. But about a week or two in he'll be dead in the water. Does that help?"

  "Not now. But a week or two after he fails it will boost your case. Depending on the judge he may be given several attempts to pay it." The woman sighed. It wasn't a good sound, and Shay was growing only more frustrated.

  "What about the weed? The Benadryl?" Wasn't that the whole point?

  "Neither is illegal."

  "But endangering my child is!" Shay burst out.

  "How is that?"

  Why couldn't the woman see that for herself? "Because he's doing something that could precipitate a house fire! Not only would he not be able to save my child, he's drugged my son to the point that he can no longer save himself!"

  "That's a good point." She made notes.

  Shay blinked. Wasn't that the lawyer's job to think of those things? Why was she building her own case? The woman had seemed solid the first time Shay met her. She’d even handed her a list, which Shay had followed to the letter. So why wasn't everything all set? That's what she'd waited so long for.

  "What about your other son? You have another son, right? Younger?"

  "Older." It was the easiest thing to answer. "Why?"

  "Different father, right?" But she didn't wait for an answer. "If you do this with one father, will it tip off the other? Will he have the money to back pay his child support and ruin your case against him?" The woman was staring at her again. All the papers had been set back down.

  But Shay was stopped cold. "I only meant to start the one case now. Do I have to start both?"

  "It may be in your best interests." This time the woman folded her hands and looked at Shay.

  Of all the things to remember. Why didn't she remember that she'd told Shay to gather what evidence she could? To let the men get as far behind on child support as possible.

  "But I did everything you said." She was close to tears. Then she bucked up. "Okay. Let's do both."

  Now or never. She'd been prepping for this. "I have a certain amount of savings . . ."

  By the time she got home she felt like old laundry, wrung out and hung on the line in a high wind. She hugged her boys despite their surprise at the ferocity of her moves. Then she paid the sitter, thanking her and trying not to look longingly at the cash as it left her hands. It was hard not to round down for the sitter when every penny counted. But she couldn't make enemies.

  Instead she fought her fears by microwaving popcorn and watching Lilo and Stitch for the umpteenth time with the boys.

  She told Owen to put down the book—the next book in the series from the dragon book he'd been reading at his dad's. He was trying to finish it before he had to go back his father, in the hopes that the bastard wouldn't make fun of him.

  Though the movie was playing on the TV and the book was open over the arm of the couch, Shay found herself wondering if her son had been reading Stephen King books to impress his father. It was a sobering thought.

  She couldn't wish her sons away. She also knew that Owen wouldn't be Owen if Jason hadn't fathered him. But she did wish different circumstances on him. She wished he had a different father.

  Craig's face popped into her mind. Though she tried to shake it and concentrate on the movie, the fact was she'd seen this one too many times to pay it any real attention. She could probably run scenes from it alongside the boys. She couldn't keep her brain off Craig and the beach and being free.

  After she put her boys to bed, Shay sat herself down for a good hard think. She'd never questioned that Owen was Jason's son. But the lawyer had brought up the possibility, and when Shay was honest, there was a possibility. Jason had been a terrible husband. He'd been a terrible man, and she had scant evidence that he was any better now.

  The lawyer didn't seem to think that Jason's abusive tendencies toward her were enough to get a judge to terminate his parental rights regarding Owen. Especially since he'd been seeing the boy for a number of years, and those visits hadn’t produced any evidence of abuse. Never mind that he claimed he didn't owe her as much child support because he was watching the kid at least part-time. Jason had the most beautiful blue eyes, but they should have been brown, he was so full of shit.

  Shay didn't like to think about what he'd done to her, about how little he'd valued her, and how little she'd valued herself in return. Mostly, she ignored it. It was done.

  Early on, she'd needed the child support money. So she hadn't looked for ways to unhook Owen from Jason. She didn't need the money anymore. Thank God, too, it wasn't like she was getting it. Even when she had been, it had been sporadic at best.

  She was going to have to dig up some long buried past to get Owen out from under Jason. She was going to have to admit, out loud, in court, that Jason had passed her around to his friends. She'd complied because he'd talked her into it. He'd bought her flowers afterward; told her she was good.

  Looking back, it was all stupid, and reckless, and dangerous. But it hadn't happened all at once. It came in small steps, each a little darker than the last. Each step was nothing she hadn't done before, but always in a new way. Each time, she'd earned some small praise or affection from the man she desperately wanted something real from. None of it had been real except the damage to her soul.

  Maybe the physical abuse had rattled her brain and that was why she agreed. Maybe she was simply horribly stupid when it came to men. Both were a very real possibility.

  She never wanted to revisit that part of her life. She was going to have to do it. Even though it just might prove that Jason actually was Owen's biological father. Shay tossed and turned all night, barely sleeping. She sent the boys off to school with lunches and kisses, and she felt like a robot doing it.

  Her sewing table called to her. There were deadlines to make, and tonight she was going to have to buck up and sew, even if her brain wasn't in it. But she had to go back to the lawyer.

  She'd shown up at the office only to find out the woman was in court that morning. Saving someone else's children, Shay hoped. It turned out she was handling a defense of an arsonist.

  "I can have her call you this afternoon." The receptionist offered. He was a nice young man today, looked enough like the lawyer to be her son.

  Shay smiled. "Is a call okay? Does it still have the same confidentiality laws?"

  She didn't know, and she didn't like sounding stupid. Though she'd tried getting online and educating herself, she
hadn't been able to untangle what she found. Instead she'd wound up down a rabbit hole of blog entries and websites on her "Constitutional Rights!" She wished she'd gotten an education like Zoe. Instead, she asked stupid questions.

  "Have you paid a retainer fee yet?"

  Shay nodded.

  "Then yes." The boy knew. He looked about fifteen, but must be older because it was a school day. At least he knew the law. "Once you hire the lawyer, everything you discuss is confidential, unless you are actively threatening to harm someone."

  He said the last almost like it was a warning to her to keep her foul plans to herself.

  Shay shook her head. "None of that." Then she left a message with her number and went home to work on her pieces.

  The boys were home and settled into their dinner before she got the return call. At first she was irritated at having the meal interrupted, but then she was glad. She was able to take the phone around the corner and out of earshot of her kids. So far, she'd managed to do all of this away from them. Eventually she'd have to explain, but the last thing she needed was her boys worrying over eventualities and bad possibilities the way she was.

  "What happens if we get a DNA test and Owen isn't Jason's?" It felt odd in her mouth to speak it.

  "Well, it's never simple."

  When was it? Shay wondered.

  The lawyer continued. "You may be able to get his rights terminated very quickly. If he agrees. Many men do when it turns out the child isn't theirs. He may at that point sue you to return child support he paid."

  Shay snorted. "If the case goes that fast, I'll have plenty left over to pay him. It's not like he paid that much!"

  "Well, we'll barter the amount down, too." The lawyer assured her. "There's another possibility. He may sue to get parental rights."

  "What? If Owen isn't his? Why . . ." Shay couldn't fathom that.

  "He can argue that he loves the child, and that he raised him as his own for six years, believing Owen was his. This can give him rights in some instances."

  Shay put her hand to her forehead, certain she had suddenly developed a massive fever. "He's abusive."

  The lawyer paused a moment. "Have you decided? Are you ready to file these cases?"

  They should be filed as close together as possible, Shay understood. So that neither man caught wind of what she was doing and could become the plaintiff in his own case. She took a deep breath. It was time. "Yes."

  "We'll argue every angle." The lawyer reassured her. "But be ready. You're in for a fight."

  Didn't Shay know that? When was she not ever in for a fight? It was a fight to get her boys picked up, a fight to get them back, a fight for the child support and the boundaries of her own home. So many fights that the fight for Shay and what Shay wanted or needed had been abandoned a long time ago.

  She hung up the phone both lighter and heavier.

  She'd done it—put a plan into action that she'd been working toward for years. But she'd also come up on a game that would change things. She only hoped she could win.

  She tucked her boys in with extra stories and hugs and kisses that night. She packed treats in their lunches the next day figuring they were smart kids and understood that mommy was worrying about something she couldn't share with kids. The next evening her dinner was interrupted by the doorbell.

  A strange man stood at the door in a t-shirt and jeans, his hands in his pockets as he tilted his head just shy of peeking into the window at them.

  Wiping her hands on her old yoga pants, she pulled open the door, leaving the screen between them. "Can I help you?"

  "I'm looking for Shay Leland?" He said the name as though it didn't roll off his tongue easily. His words were a little stilted as he spoke before she could answer. "I have a delivery."

  He didn't hold a box or flowers or anything. Unless he had something in his pocket? She frowned at him wondering what this was about. "I'm Shay."

  As he opened the screen she saw him pull an envelope from his pocket. Full manila sized, it had been folded over several times to fit. "Shay Leland, you have been served."

  Chapter 20

  Shay was stunned. For two days she floated in a sea of disbelief. She'd barely filed her lawsuit and Jason had slapped her with a countersuit that same evening. And "slapped" was the right word. He was somehow both suggesting that her request for a DNA test was harassment and also suggesting that if Owen wasn't his it was because of her promiscuous ways.

  She wasn't sure if she was more offended that Jason handed her around to his friends or that he was suggesting it was all on her. What was on her was being stupid, believing that she could get him to love her and be good to her and their baby. At least she was now mad enough to readily admit that in court.

  The lawyer had assured her that Jason wouldn't be able to get the DNA test stopped—or at least not for long. Everyone involved in the case would want to know whether Owen was genetically his or not. Everyone except Jason who would know that it might not come out in his favor. Then again, Owen did look like Jason.

  Shay found herself praying that was coincidence. She also found she was kicking herself repeatedly. She'd gotten out from under Jason. She'd quit whoring around for him when she became pregnant, she'd grown a backbone, she'd thought. And she put those dark times behind her.

  Jason had never used protection with her, though he'd insisted his friends did. He didn't realize that his friends were just as awful as he was, and they didn't like to follow his orders.

  Leaning over to catch her breath, Shay realized she'd taken this position far too often the past days. She had her hands on her knees and she looked like a runner after a marathon. Only hers wasn't over. She was just glad she could openly hyperventilate now. When the boys were home, she just silently gasped for air and hoped they didn't notice.

  She was inhaling deeply when the phone rang. Her heart fluttered as she looked at the strange number on the caller ID. The home phone was too puny to display the entire name of the caller, and said only "Office of W. . ." Probably a lawyer. Probably Jason's lawyer. Or God forbid Brian's. She hadn't heard from them yet and honestly couldn't decide which situation was worse.

  So she didn't answer. She was under strict orders not to talk to any other lawyers without her own lawyer present. Who knew what she might get twisted into saying?

  Hands still on her knees she watched the phone sitting in its dock as it answered for her. She heard her boys' sweet voices say "Hello? Hello? You should leave a message."

  It had been cute until now. Now it sounded like she was putting her kids out to the world rather than protecting them. Every step she made now, and every step she'd made before would be questioned.

  The voice came on, tinny through the crappy recording system. "This is Parker Wilcox of Wilcox, O'Malley, and Bordeen. I'm calling to extend my services to you. I'm a specialist in child custody cases . . ."

  She quit listening.

  Shay already had a lawyer. Her heart rate slowed. Just someone who wanted her money. He wouldn't have wasted his time had he known just how tight her money was. It was still her biggest fear to run out before the cases were done. At least her lawyer would let her set up a payment plan.

  By the time Owen climbed off the bus, her heart had slowed. She'd realized something very important, too. This time was precious. Even more than she'd already known it was.

  Jason was playing a vicious game. Brian a silent one. Who knew how it might all go down? It was more important than ever now that her boys both know and feel that their mother loved them more than anything.

  "Who wants pizza?!" She asked excitedly as Owen climbed into the backseat, clicking himself into his booster.

  "I have homework." Owen's serious voice overlapped his brother's squeal of approval.

  But Shay knew both her boys. Owen would worry if he got behind, or even might not have time to finish everything to his satisfaction. "So let’s go to the store and buy our stuff, and then you can do your homework first thing when we
get home. Does that sound good?"

  He nodded then, tapping into the joy that was pizza.

  "I'm hungry now!" As soon as she told him, Aaron whined, already passing from pleasure to despair at imagined pizza detention.

  It didn't bother her today. Her boy was three. Three-year-olds did this. "Well, if Owen's homework takes too long, then you and I will start the pizzas. That way Owen can have his as soon as he is done! Is that good with everyone?"

  Owen thought for a moment before nodding. Aaron threw his hands up in the air and yelled "Pizzaaaah!" by way of response.

  She drove them to the store, held hands, even bought bacon to put on the pizza, because Owen had heard another kid in his class liked it. Then when the pizza was cooked, she ate all the slices with bacon on them because Owen scrunched his mouth, saying he could "taste the pig."

  She'd fought hard to keep a straight face.

  A text from Zoe popped in after that.

  —Hey S. I'm on my way.

  Shay frantically responded. Tried to keep the boys from seeing. Owen could read.

  —No. Stay in school.

  —Already booked flight. Not missing anything. Too late.

  "Shit." Shay whispered it. But she'd be glad to see her sister. Apparently, she'd see her around eleven thirty that night.

  She made it through baths and stories with enough happiness to counter the dread of her situation. Zoe rolled up right on time, and Shay spent the night with her sister in the bed next to her—a throwback to a time when they had each other's backs. They still did. It was just nice to not have it be from across the country.

  "I love you, Zee. Thank you." Shay whispered before she fell deeply asleep.

  The next day she got a phone call from the other lawyer again, trying to solicit her business. This time she picked up the phone as Zoe looked up from the fat textbook she was taking notes from.

  "Hello, this is Shay Leland." They had used her name already; it wasn't like she was giving them any info.

  "Oh, good. Mrs. Leland—"

  Her brain rolled. As though she was claiming a "Mrs." title. She'd had enough of that shit. But she didn't correct him because she was going to hang up on him.