Page 67 of Falling for You
We eat our burgers talking about the facts of the case, making sure that I have the emails and texts from the Ryans giving me details about her care, details about the paternity test, and agreeing to simply keep her for an overnight.
Before I know it, it’s time to pay our bill and head to the lawyer’s office.
We step out into the sunshine, and Emma holds her hand out for me to place mine in hers so we can walk hand in hand to the lawyer’s office.
I take a deep breath outside the entrance to the office. Emma tugs me inside.
“Hi, welcome to Bardeau and Associates. How can I help you?” A chipper blonde answers as we step through the door. This must be the woman that Wyatt knows. She looks just like his type.
“I’m Roman Thomas, we have a two o’clock appointment with Mr. Bardeau.”
“Oh! Wyatt’s friend.” Despite Emma being next to me the blonde’s eyes roam around my body.
“Hi! I’m Emma Keaton, Wyatt’s sister, and Roman’sgirlfriend.” Emma expertly works in who she is to me.
“Oh! How… cute.” The blonde is not nearly as chipper with Emma as she was with me. “I will let Mr. Bardeau know you’re here.” She gestures to the chairs over in the waiting area.
We take our seats, and wait to be called back to Mr. Bardeau’s office.
“Thomas?” A deep voice calls out for me.
I stand and reach for Emma’s hand.
He leads us down a hallway filled with generic stock art prints while he makes small talk about nothing.
He steps to the side and opens a large wooden door. The building looks as if it were built hundreds of years ago, and updated along the way. The large ornate wooden doors that we’ve passed look like they’re from the Victorian era.
We each take a seat in the chairs across from his desk.
“So tell me what brings you here.” He folds his hands on top of his desk.
“Well, a few weeks ago, I was approached at my brewery by Diane and Wayne Ryan. They had a baby girl with them and told me that I was the father and that their daughter, Olivia’s mother, passed away recently. Asking them to find me after she passed so that I could care for her.” I pause, waiting for a reaction from the man who I would never play poker with.
When he doesn’t give me a reaction, I continue. “They set up a test with Dr. Shivart at Portland Family and Genetics. I got the results a day or so later saying that I am her father. Since then I have had custody, until Saturday night when we needed a babysitter and asked the Ryans if they would like to have an overnight with Olivia. They agreed, so we met them halfway. Yesterday when we went to go meet them, they did not show up and weren’t responding to us. I drove to their house and they wouldn’t open the door. Finally, Wayne came out and told us that they weren’t giving her back. Since I never got official custody, the cop that came said there was nothing they could do, and now we’re here.”
He nods, “Unfortunately, the cops are right. But you do have two things on your side, if the mother put her wishes into a will. If she didn’t, you have one thing.”
“I’m not sure if there was a will, but I have these letters.” I hand over the letter from Blair.
He takes a minute reading it over. “This is good. It shows the mother’s intentions. And the paternity test will help you too. Courts like to have children with their biological parents.”
We go over a few more items, and talk through the next steps with Mr. Bardeau for a long time.
He stands, extending his hand for me to shake. “It was nice to meet you Mr. Thomas. And keep doing what you’re doing. We’re going to get your daughter back home with you. I’ll be in touch when the Ryans have been served with the custody filing.”
I shake his hand and lead Emma down the hallway with my hand on the small of her back.
“Fuck, I can’t believe how long this is going to take. I want our girl back now.” I whisper into her ear when we’re out of the lobby.
“I know. But we can do it. Together.”
About six months. Fuck, that’s a long fucking time without Olivia. Emma is so positive though, it’s contagious.
I can do anything with her by my side.
We drive back to Balsam Cliffs with the windows down, and the music blaring. I hate to admit that Emma’s music isn’t so bad anymore. All my life I was a diehard metal fan, but this sad cowboy country she has me listening to, is growing on me and I actually sing along with her now.
“How do you feel about getting ice-cream and eating it on the beach?”
