Marion Croslydon - Fast Forward

I hated when people referred to Lucas as the ‘child.’ He wasn’t a child, he was our son. Our. Son. He was Lucas.

“Pardon me, Miss Meyer,” Trisha cut in, “I really appreciate the interest your clients have shown in Lucas, but Cassandra and Joshua have now reached the final stage of the adoption. I expect Lucas to go and live with them by the end of the month when the Sorensons leave the state.”

Go Trisha! Go!

The buttoned-up lawyer responded. “And yet, the child spent Christmas with my clients. As I understand it, there was a setback in the proceedings.”

Curtis started to rev his engine. “A couple of facts had to be verified by Social Services. Nothing unusual. We believe Mrs. Roberts and the case worker in D.C. are now satisfied… so is the judge.”

Meyer had kept her eyes set on Trisha. “We believe,” she repeated, “that there were some concerns about how transparent the MacBrides have been regarding their relationship. Mr. MacBride was engaged with another woman barely a week before the adoption started.” Josh’s fist curled tightly on the table. “And then there is the potentially more egregious matter of his divorce filing, merely a month before.”

Curtis took a curt tone. “Once again, all concerns have been assuaged.” He now addressed Trisha directly. “Mrs. Robert, my clients do not have to justify themselves or discuss their private life with people they barely know and—”

Trisha waved a hand as a peacemaking gesture. “Ms. Meyer, I don’t know what point you’re trying to make, but please make it quickly.”

Meyer gave a tight smile. “My clients are deeply concerned for Lucas. They believe the MacBrides have no intention of providing the stable family environment the child so desperately needs. Their newfound marital happiness is a mere front to facilitate the adoption process.”

Josh moved his arm from the back of my seat and he rested both forearms on the table. The power move attracted everyone’s attention.

“Get to the point now,” he said, “When you have, I’ll enlighten Mrs. Roberts about how your clients seriously compromised Lucas’s well-being during their unsupervised access to our son by discussing the adoption with him and trying to influence him.”

Meyer flinched but she went on anyway, “Before making such allegations, Mr. MacBride, we would like to share with Social Services and your lawyer some disturbing information.”

I tried to catch Andrea’s gaze. For one moment, I succeeded, but the connection didn’t last. She was doing her hand-wringing thing again. I nearly missed Meyer opening the folder in front of her, extracting several sheets of paper and handing them around the table. A stack of them landed between Josh and me.

My brain struggled to make sense of what lay before me.

“Are you spying on my wife?” Josh’s question hit coldly at Meyer.

“Hardly. These photos are in the public domain. They can be found on any search engine with ‘Cassie O’Malley’ as the keyword.”

I managed to stop my hands shaking and flick through the ‘evidence.’ It wasn’t just the article from the blog Josh had shown me, but many more of them and the same photos over and over again. I didn’t dare look at Josh.

As if she hadn’t done enough damage, Meyer spoke again, “We have reason to believe Mrs. MacBride has been involved with this… musician for the past six months. We can share with you a widely available video showing the two of them performing together in September when the MacBrides had already applied for adoption.”

“That’s just a song, a stupid song,” I cried out. “And these pictures are taken out of context. He has paparazzi following him everywhere. It’s L.A. for God’s—”

“—Cassie!” Josh interrupted. “Don’t.”

I turned sideways. He’d cocked his head forward, his jaw locked, a sure sign he was close to snap.

But I wasn’t done yet. There was only one person here who might hear me out. “Andrea, please, listen to me.” I extended my hand flat over the table. I so wanted to reach her. “You don’t want to become Lucas’s mom because of a lie.” I pointed at the photos. “The only truth is that we love him and would do anything to make him happy. Anything. You have to believe me.”

She ignored me, not even giving me the benefit of a word or a look. The only reaction I got was from her husband. “Leave my wife alone. She’s a good woman who’s always been devoted to her family.”

“Which family?” Josh’s question crashed between us. “Because from where I stand, your wife doesn’t have much of a track-record as a mother.”

“Please, stop. I beg you all. Stop fighting.” Trisha was waving again but her gesture was broader this time. She was watching me though with a silent ‘Is that true?’. I wanted to shout that I’d never been with another man than Josh. In my whole life. “This meeting is getting out of hand. Quite frankly, Ms. Meyer, I’m shocked by the lengths your clients are ready to go.”

“All we wanted was to draw your attention to the web of lies the MacBrides have skillfully weaved to portray themselves as a happy couple,” Meyer answered. “Because my clients care so much for the child, they want to provide him with a stable home. Mr. Loretti has a long-term position in a local company and Andrea Loretti is a stay-at-home wife. You can be assured she will not be touring the country year-in year-out dressed in a short denim skirt.”

“Watch your mouth.” Josh’s order felt like a real threat. My hand flew to his forearm. The muscles there were taut. He gave me a silent nod. “You’re out of line, Ms. Meyer.” His voice was sub-polar.

She returned to acknowledging only Trisha. “We ask you to give a closer look at this adoption in view of the information we have brought to your attention. We asked for this informal meeting as a sign of goodwill on our part. Hopefully, we can reach a compromise before we go to the judge.” She cleared her throat. “The Lorettis realize the MacBrides are Lucas’ birth parents and, should the judge opt for Lucas to stay in Kansas City, my clients would be ready to make some arrangements for the MacBrides to keep a connection with the child.”

My head swung back and forth between Meyer, Trisha and Curtis. It was like someone had pressed the fast-forward button. One minute I was about to get my son back, the next I’d have to beg to keep a ‘connection’ with him.

Curtis stepped in. “Mrs. Roberts, we ask you to disregard this meeting altogether. We don’t think any of the pseudo-facts brought up by Ms. Meyer and the Lorettis constitute a reason to re-consider Lucas’s adoption by Cassandra and Joshua.”

Trisha sighed. “I find the Lorettis’ approach under-handed, but I need to take a step back here.” I looked at her and I couldn’t keep the tears from welling up in the corner of my eyes. “In all good conscience, I’ll have to disclose these new facts to the judge.” Next, she addressed Curtis. “As birth parents, they could have applied for a joint custody. There have been several similar cases.”

Vince Loretti cleared his throat and we all looked at him. He’d turned awkward and kept shrugging his shoulders. When he talked, he didn’t sound like the moron he’d been to us so far. “Listen, we don’t want to cut off Lucas from you guys. We’re good, normal people and we’ve been married for fifteen years now. The boy likes you and my wife and I, um, we want to make him happy, so you could keep seeing him like you did before with his parents or Mrs. Sorenson.”

I wasn’t going to take any more of this shit and I jumped to my feet. At last Loretti shut up and even Andrea stopped ignoring me. My mouth opened but stopped the words from coming out. Next to me, Josh shifted on his seat and reached for my hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t—I can’t listen…” I stammered.

I rushed out of the meeting room, down the corridor and burst into the entrance hall. The receptionist threw me a worried look. I asked for the restroom and followed her directions. Even when I was inside, I couldn’t keep still and paced the room. There was a chaotic mix of voices inside my head, with that Meyer woman topping the chart. Denim skirt. Involved with this musician for the last six months. Divorce. Open adoption.

Open adoption. Open adoption. Again and again. I shook my arms along my body like I’d seen Shawn do before getting on stage. It didn’t work for me. My heartbeat was still out of control and my breathing was sketchy. I froze when I saw myself in the mirror above the sink. The person who stared back at me reminded me of Andrea with her about-to-crumble look.

I let out a heavy breath that came from months of uncertainty. When I took my next breath, I finally picked up the smell of detergent in the room and grimaced. My shoulders drooped and I walked slowly towards the wall. I lifted my forearm and rested my head against it. I wanted to glue my inner-self back together but I had no idea where to start. Inside I was like one of Lucas’s puzzle boxes: Filled to the brim with jagged pieces that should have formed a coherent picture, but didn’t.

I heard the door open and close behind me. I bit my lower-lip because I wasn’t going to engage with anyone, staff or client of Curtis, Curtis and Brown, LLP.

Josh

“Sorry it took me so long. I wanted to have a one-on-one with Trisha,” I said.

Cassie had her face hidden in her arms, facing the wall as if she’d just been punished.

“Not that it made any difference,” I sighed. “She wasn’t really up for an open-hearted conversation. All I managed to get from her was a promise she’d call Curtis sometime next week.”

Put like that, it didn’t sound promising at all. The water dripping into the faucet filled the silence until Cassie swiveled round and asked, “What are we going to do?”

“Maybe we should head back to D.C. I could change our flights and we might be able to get back later tonight or tomorrow morning.”

Her mouth popped open. “You’re giving up.”

“No. But we won’t have any more access to Lucas until the judge makes a decision. The Lorettis have been told the same thing.”

“They live next door to him and you want us to wait thousands of miles away?”

“That’s where our life is, Cass. My job, our home.”

“My home is where Lucas is.”

“If we sit here, we’re just going to get more and more upset. In D.C. we could keep busy. I do have a job after all…”

“Sorry” Her voice had turned into a high-pitched wail. I noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes. Had they been there this morning? “You are my home too but things are spinning out of control and I’m in full panic mode. We can’t just go and wait for Trisha and the judge to make up their minds.”

She’d delivered all that in one breath with her hands clasped at her chest. I let out a heavy breath and stepped backwards to lean against the wall. I covered my face with my hands then slid them through my hair while lowering my shoulders. I’d never felt like this. Never. Not even when she’d lied to me and told me she’d gotten rid of our baby. Not when she’d told me she was leaving me.

Defeat crashed over me so hard I could have fallen on my knees. “What do you want me to do, Cass? Dig up some dirt on the Lorettis? Do the same thing to them that they’re doing to us?”

A single tear tracked down her cheek. It was only one tear but it burnt my skin as if I was the one crying.

“You’re giving up,” she repeated. “We’re giving up.”

Her words killed something inside me and I felt the dead-weight deep in my soul. It really was like dying, with snapshots of my life flashing in front of me and Cassie in every one of them. Our chatter and laughter on the school bus. Our wild playing in the summer rain. Our clambering up the cotton tree at Sweet Angel Point. The softness of her profile etched against the Kansas prairie skyline.

Our first kiss.

Homecoming night.

“It was never meant to be.” The flatness of her voice dragged me out of the movie of my life. She gave a tiny shake of the head as her gaze was lost somewhere behind me.

Not meant to be? Adopting Lucas? Us?

“No. Everything about us was meant to be. Everything. The beautiful along with the ugly, and it’s all our doing.”

I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old boy anymore. I wouldn’t let our future slip through my fingers. I had a family to protect and take care of. A wife. A son. To hell with it, I wasn’t going to let anyone take them away from me.