“What!” Lark’s eyes go comically wide, but nothing is funny right now. Nothing. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared, not even when Lark and I surprised a six-foot water moccasin in our baby pool when we were kids. “That’s insane!”
“Insane or not, he might have a chance.” I shoot Dad another pointed look as I wave the envelope in the air. “Seeing as my daughter and I are living with a man who has recently been arrested for disturbing the peace and indecent exposure.”
Daddy’s eyebrows un-bunch as he throws his head back and laughs.
Laughs.
Like this is some hysterical joke!
“This isn’t funny, Daddy!” I insist.
“It is funny. It’s also bull-dooky.” He chuckles again, before turning to hurl his last horseshoe. “That fool doesn’t have a chance.”
“He might! You were arrested, Dad! This is serious!” I fight the urge to stomp my foot, or cry.
I’m twenty-eight years old, a successful professional, and a mom. I’m not going to act like a toddler, and I refuse to cry. If I start, I might never stop, and Felicity gets scared when I’m upset.
She’s already chanting “No, no, no,” again, simply from hearing me raise my voice.
“Here, let me take her.” Melody appears at my side, ever the angel of mercy. “I’m done cooking and the ribs are resting on the grill. Felicity and I can go play with toys while y’all talk.”
She’s right. I shouldn’t unleash all this in front of Felicity, even if she is too young to understand most of what we’re saying.
Still, for a moment, I cling to my sweet girl, not wanting to let her go, some primal part of me determined to hold onto my child so tight that no one can ever take her away from me. But I force myself to relax, and hand the baby over to my sister. If Daddy keeps laughing this off, I’m going to lose it. A shouting match with my equally hot-headed father isn’t off the table and, until it is, Felicity is better off with Aunt Melody.
“Let’s see exactly what the papers say, honey, before we get upset.” Mom crosses the lawn to pluck the envelope from my fingers and rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You’re such a good mama. I’m sure everything is going to be fine.”
Her words grant a brief reprieve from the terror galloping through my veins. But when she starts flipping through the documents, her pleasant, hopeful expression is replaced by a worried frown, and my fear comes rushing back. My mother isn’t a worrier. She always looks on the sunny side. She sees the silver lining, not the cloud.
If she’s worried, then this is as bad as I feared.
Maybe even worse.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I nibble on my thumbnail, an anxious habit I haven’t indulged in years.
“It doesn’t look good. Thanks to your father.” Mom turns to glare at Dad. “They’re calling you a sexual deviant, Bob!”
Daddy laughs again, like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in years.
Mom props her hands on her hips, making the papers flap. “Stop it! They make it sound like Felicity isn’t safe in our home. Why on earth did you think it was a good idea to go streaking down Main Street? What the hell were you and your ridiculous friends thinking?”
Oh, no. Mom dropped an “H bomb.” My mother never curses, not even baby swears. She never says anything the least bit negative or derogatory if she can help it.
The fact that she’s cussing mad at Daddy is another terrible sign.
Of course, Mom’s had plenty of time to get worked up about Dad’s “big night.” Ever since the police report hit the local paper last week, she’s been in deep mortification mode.
Daddy and his buddies from high school getting drunk at their reunion and streaking down Main Street to relive their glory days and being held in police lockup overnight, was bad enough. The entire town of Bliss River reading about it in the local paper was enough to make Mom take to her bed for the day, locking the door and refusing to let Daddy in, even when he came bearing her favorite ice-cream by way of apology.
“It was a reunion prank, Sue.” He rolls his eyes, like Mom is the crazy one. “A joke, and everyone in town knows it. Just like they know I’m not a deviant or a danger to my granddaughter or anyone else.”
“You were still arrested, Bob,” Mom says, tears rising in her eyes. “And we don’t know which judge will hear the case. If it’s someone who doesn’t know you, they might decide that your arrest, combined with all the things Liam’s claiming he can give Felicity that Aria can’t provide right now, is enough to grant him custody. Or at least shared custody.”
“He hasn’t seen Felicity since she was three months old!!” Lark shouts, pacing back and forth across the grass. “Or spent a dime to help Aria cover expenses. He doesn’t deserve any custody. At all. Ever!”
“Let me call my friend, Chris. He’s a family lawyer in Atlanta,” Mason says, catching my eye as he puts a soothing hand on Lark’s shoulder, calming her almost instantly.
He can do that, with just a touch. They’re that in love, that intimately connected, body and soul.
If I weren’t so happy for my sister, I’d be jealous.
All right, maybe I am a little. Not of Mason, but jealous that Lark has someone who knows her inside out, loves her madly, and considers marrying her an honor and a privilege, not a fate to be avoided at all costs.
“It’s after hours,” Mason continues. “But I’m sure he’ll answer if I call his cell. Maybe he can give us some advice.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I say, grateful for Mason’s encouraging smile as he pulls out his phone.
He really is a good guy. I’m so glad he and Lark patched things up. If they hadn’t, I would have always felt guilty for the role I played in their second breakup. Liam has poisoned me in so many ways, but the worst is that I have such a hard time believing in love anymore, or trusting that any man is really who he claims to be.
But I trust Mason, and when he gets his friend on the line and hands me his cell, I take it gratefully, sending out a prayer that everything will be all right as I lift the phone to my ear.
Chapter Four
Aria
“Hi, Chris, this is Aria March. Thanks so much for taking time to chat.” I switch the phone to my other hand, wiping my sweaty palm on my jeans, my nerves humming with anxiety.
“Come on, let’s give her some privacy,” Lark whispers, taking Mom’s hand and leading her across the lawn.
With one last encouraging look, Mason follows them.
“Hey there, Aria,” Chris says, his voice raised to be heard over the sound of young children squealing with laughter in the near distance. “Excuse the background noise, my twins haven’t gone to sleep yet.”
“Oh, no worries,” I breathe. “I’m just so glad to have someone to talk to right away. This is so upsetting.”
“I completely get it, and I’m happy to give you an opinion as a friend of a friend, but I wouldn’t recommend taking any action based on my input until you talk to your own attorney,” he says. “This is just off the clock advice from a person with experience in family law.”