Page 53 of Falling for the Forward

Through my attorney, I offered him two weeks with them every summer because she advised me that the judge would want them to have at least some contact with him if he wanted it.

I’m a wreck over it, which is another reason I’m not waking Suki up to tell her I’ve got perpetual blue balls over her. This isn’t the time.

Tomorrow, I’ll either find out I get to keep the girls, or I’ll be devastated. That has to be my priority.

But whichever way it goes, I want Suki to stay in my life. It’s a sobering thought that it might not be “our lives” anymore. The thought of me and Suki here without the girls is something I can’t even wrap my head around.

The minutes tick by and I stare up at the dark ceiling, absently petting the top of Darling’s head as I try not to imagine telling the girls they have to move to Alaska to live with the father they don’t even know.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Suki

The hearing was setfor ten, but we’re still sitting in the hallway outside the courtroom waiting at 10:35 a.m.

Carter shifts in his seat beside me, checking his watch again. Even though he got home in the middle of the night, he was already in the kitchen when I got up at six thirty this morning, coffee brewed and breakfast cooking.

The girls didn’t know about this hearing, so they were their usual morning selves. Olivia was ready to go early, Charlotte was running late and Hallie had to give Darling a dozen kisses and hugs before walking out the door.

Carter did school drop-off, then he came home and dressed in a dark suit with one of the ties I got him for Christmas. I’m wearing black pants and a simple green blouse, my hair in a knot at the nape of my neck.

I pat his knee reassuringly and he takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. Neither one of us could eat and we both drank too much coffee; it’s hard just sitting here and feeling helpless.

Carter nodded toward the girls’ father, Chad, when he sat down in a seat on the other side of the hallway. He’s average-looking, dressed in khakis and a dress shirt. Charlotte looks like him.

It’s all I can do to ignore him. I want to go ask him how he could ignore his own children. I’d miss the girls if they were gone for a weekend. I can’t even fathom not seeing them for years. He’s a failure as a parent and as a human.

Finally, a bailiff opens the courtroom doors and Carter’s attorney, Michelle, stands up, gesturing for us to follow.

I sit in one of the rows of benches for spectators. Carter and Michelle sit at one of the tables facing the judge’s bench and Chad sits at the other table, a man who must be his attorney beside him.

I’m trying to calm my racing heart with deep breathing when the door to the judge’s chambers opens and she walks out. Everyone stands while she walks to her seat and then she tells us to be seated.

Carter sits stiff-backed as the judge talks about reports from counselors and teachers and filings from the attorneys. She asks Carter some questions and then asks Chad some questions.

I’m shocked to learn that Chad’s wife already has three kids and is pregnant with another one. If the girls are sent to live with him, there will be seven kids in a three-bedroom home.

“We could use some of Rachel’s life insurance money to buy a bigger house,” he tells the judge.

Carter doesn’t move. His attorney told him not to show any reaction to anything, no matter how outrageous. I know it’s taking all his self-control to stay silent.

“I can’t order money locked up in trusts to be distributed to you,” the judge tells Chad. “If your attorney advised you that was an option, you were misinformed.”

Chad clears his throat. “I thought that money was for the girls to be taken care of.”

“Mr. Stanton put all the money into trusts for the children.”

Chad looks over at Carter. “Well, I’m not a millionaire like him.”

“Money aside,” the judge says, “I’ve decided the children should remain with Mr. Stanton and his wife. If Mr. Bailey wishes to come to Cleveland to visit the children, he may do so, with those details to be worked out between the parties. Mr. Bailey will also get two uninterrupted weeks of visitation every summer at his home if he wishes. I also want him to be allowed regular phone contact with the children. To have access to pictures of them and to receive communications about their grades and activities. Are you willing to do those things, Mr. Stanton?”

“Yes. Thank you, your honor.”

“All the teachers and counselors have said the girls are doing well with you. Keep doing what you’re doing. And Mr. Bailey, had you been active in the children’s lives before their mother’s death, my decision may have been different.”

The hearing ends then, with Carter hugging Michelle and Chad looking disgusted. I breathe a huge sigh of relief, smiling when Carter comes toward me, opening his arms.

“Thank God,” he says softly. “We did it.”

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