Page 46 of Raven's Instinct
Alan didn’t need a shred of supernatural ability, instinct, or the lingering connection from the totem to know that something was deeply wrong. Kendra went white as a sheet, her pupils dilating as she listened to the person at the other end of the line.
He wasn’t sure if he accidentally squeezed Amy, or if Amy was independently aware of Kendra’s distress, but she cried, “MAMA!” and tried to struggle out of Alan’s arms.
Kendra hung up the phone without answering and then stared at it for a moment before she dropped it into the trash can.
“Kendra? What is it? Kendra?”
She staggered back to the gate. “It’s Charlie. He wants custody. He could get it. I live in avan.I lied on my application to Tiny Paws. I can be at the Canadian border in six hours. He couldn’t stop me. I could probably find under the table work on one of the big Alberta cattle farms. I shouldn’t be telling you this. You can’t be culpable.”
“Kendra, you’re panicking. There’s no way that Charlie could get custody now. You’ve been Amy’s sole provider for two and ahalf years. He knew you were pregnant. There has to be a sunset clause on paternal rights.”
“Six months,” Kendra said. She had probably done all of the research herself the moment she left. “But he can claim I ran out on him withouttellinghim and demand a paternity test. It would be a he said, she said. And I don’tlooklike a good mom.”
“Youdon’tlook like a good mom. You look like agreatmom.”
“My daughter spontaneously turns into an owl. Icannotlet child services shadow me to make sure. They’re going to say my rig is unsafe. They’re going to say I’m unfit.”
“We’ve got a whole department for this,” Alan told her, juggling an increasingly agitated Amy as he tried to get Kendra calmed and rational again. “I can get you any legal help you need. They’d be shifters, who would understand your complications.”
“You don’t understand these complications!” Kendra shouted. “You don’t have kids and you can’t understand them at all!”
Alan flinched, glancing back into the playroom. Tara and Franzi were both staring at them with wide eyes. The rest of the remaining children—there were only a few left—seemed unconcerned. Addison, sitting with one of the babies in the rocking chair, met his gaze with worry and gave him one of her half-shrugs that meant she was asking if she needed to intervene. Alan was surprised how much unspoken vocabulary he had picked up with the rest of the staff.
He really did belong here. And Kendra belonged here, with Amy.
“Mama!!”
“I don’t have kids,” Alan said patiently, waving Addison off. “But I know that you’re running scared and I don’t want you to do anything reckless. If you bolt, you’re giving them a case. Youhave nothing to fear. He can absolutely not cut you out of her life.”
“But could he get shared custody?” Kendra asked fiercely. “Would I have to give him half of Amy’s time like he had any part in making her beside a genetic donation?”
“I don’t know,” Alan had to admit. “I don’t know how the law works in this area, but I have friends who do, who can give you good advice, before you fly off the handle and muddy the waters.”
Kendra was breathing hard, like she had just run laps. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
“MAMA!” Amy hollered, and she stepped up her struggle with Alan until he vaulted over the gate so that he could gather Kendra into his arms, crushing Amy between them. This satisfied the little girl, and she giggled happily and patted his face. “Papa.”
Kendra burst into tears.
33
KENDRA
Kendra wasn’t sure what broke her more, Alan’s steadfast support, or Amy’s innocent acceptance of Alan as a father figure. She felt safe in his arms, despite her head warning her that he was only more to lose. Alan would protect her. Alan could find a way to make everything all right, even when that seemed impossible.
She cried herself out quickly, wiped her eyes, kissed Amy on the forehead, and fished her phone out of the trashcan. Fortunately, there was nothing too questionable in the waste bucket, and the phone had landed on top of the commercial property fliers that Kendra had dropped there.
“What should I do next?”
“You were right to hang up,” Alan assured her. “Don’t say awordto him without a lawyer. I’ll get my phone and set you up with the best guy we’ve got. What’s his full name? Where did he work?”
“Charlie—Charles, probably—Taylor. There’s no knowing if that was his real name, though. He worked IT for a pharmaceutical company, but I don’t know which one.”
“It’s a place to start.” He passed Amy into her arms and the little girl cried to go back to him just as sincerely as she hadjust cried to go to Kendra. Alan kissed her on the forehead and hopped back over the gate. He easily strode over the kids who were playing with blocks, and got his phone off a tall cabinet in the back. He flashed Kendra a reassuring smile, scrolled through his contacts, and made a call, turning away to talk.
Would Charlie call back? Kendra turned off her phone. She could block the number, but would that look suspicious? Why was he lobbying for custodynow? What did he know about her? The laundromat address, obviously. That she had the baby he hadn’t wanted her to have. Did he know she was living in a van like a hippy? She had the same phone number she’d had then, even if he didn’t.
Amy wanted to play with the phone, squalling when Kendra kept it out of reach. “It’s turned off,” Kendra said, bouncing her on her hip. “Sleepy time.”
