Darlene
The hours of the weekend dragged me behind them. I didn’t see Sawyer at all, at least not up close. I watched from my upstairs window as the Abbotts came to pick up Olivia. Elena had told me they’d won supervised weekend visitation at the condo they were renting in the Marina.
I watched, my heart in my throat, as Sawyer helped them put Olivia in a sleek, white BMW SUV and drive off. He sat down on the front steps and was still sitting there long after they’d gone.
Every part of me ached to go to him, but after the other night, my mind felt as if it had been scrubbed free of the nagging whispers and doubts that always plagued me. I could think clearly. Sawyer had so much to contend with already. He didn’t need me adding to the storm of his turbulent emotions. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew to call or visit, and I’d be there for him.
He didn’t.
After work on Monday, I rehearsed with the dance troupe, dodging both Anne-Marie’s stink-eye and Ryan’s clumsy feet the entire time. But Greg loved my solo, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.
“Saturday night, we open,” he said, as if we didn’t know that. “Take some of these flyers to pass out to your friends and family. “It’d be good if each of you brought at least two people to the show as your guests.”
“How many tickets have been sold?” Anne-Marie asked.
“We’re doing okay,” Greg said. “We could use a few more.”
Glances were exchanged among us. That was code for “hardly any” and my heart sank a little. I wasn’t doing the show for fame or fortune, that’s for sure, but it would be nice if someone other than Anne-Marie’s bitchy friends witnessed my first dance in four years. I took a handful of the Xeroxed papers and posted a few of them on my way home.
My phone rang after dinner, while I was curled up on my loveseat. I picked it up and a smile burst over my face.
“Maximilian,” I said. “Just the person I wanted to talk to.”
He told me about his new job at a Seattle hospital, and I told him about my emotional rock bottom and the NA meeting after.
“It was like taking a Silkwood shower,” I said.
“What does that even mean?” he asked with a chuckle.
“You haven’t seen Silkwood? That old movie where Meryl Streep works at a nuclear plant or something, and she gets irradiated? So these guys in Hazmat suits blast her with water hoses—in her eyeballs, gums, and everywhere—to decontaminate her?”
“That’s what your NA meeting felt like?”
“Yes. Being brutally honest in front of God and everyone feels like a Silkwood shower.” I smiled against the phone. “Put that in your Sponsor’s Manual.”
“Maybe, I will.” Max laughed. “Or you could put it in yours.”
I snorted. “Ha. I’m a long way from that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Max said. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Thank you. Me too. And I’m proud of you. Seen your folks yet?”
“Not yet. I have tentative dinner plans with Mom on Saturday. I’ll see how that goes before I tackle The Dad Situation.”
“Let me know how it goes. I’m always here for you.”
“Ah, and the student has become the master,” Max said.
I laughed. “Oh, stop.” My smile faded, and Max read my silence.
“How is Sawyer?” he asked gently.
I curled up on my loveseat, making myself into a ball. “Not good. He’s fighting for custody of Olivia and I’m scared he’s not going to win.”
“God, that’s awful. And what about you two?”
“There isn’t much to say,” I said. “I don’t want to add to his problems.”
“Darlene…”
“No, I mean that honestly. He has so much to contend with right now. I don’t want to pressure him and I told him if he needed me, I’d be there.”
“Sawyer the Lawyer, in the brief moments of our acquaintance, didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who goes around asking for help or comfort when he needs it.”
“Maybe not,” I said softly. “And he definitely doesn’t want it from me.”
The week felt as slow as the weekend, and yet was rushing up to meet me at the same time. Saturday was opening night. On Thursday, we rehearsed in the actual theater space for the first time. My heart sank a little at the shabby little place—the Brown Bag Theatre—with black walls and floors that needed paint, and fifty seats facing a tiny stage.
But my fellow dance troupers were getting excited. Anne-Marie was bringing a bunch of people, apparently.
“Who’s coming to see you?” Paula asked as we cleared out after dress rehearsal.
“Oh, it’s bad timing for me all around,” I said with a small laugh. “My family is in New York and can’t get over here, and my best friend upped and moved to Seattle on me, the bastard.”
I realized then, that my other best friends, Zelda and Beckett, would’ve dropped everything to fly out and see me, but I never asked. It had felt like too much. Now that I had begun to grow some semblance of a backbone, it was too late.
Paula gave me a gentle smile. “That’s too bad,” she said, and leaned in to whisper, “You’re the best part of this thing.”
I watched her go and stood in the black box, alone.
“If a dancer dances for the first time in four years and no one sees it, did she actually dance?” I murmured under my breath.
I wiped a tear away. I should’ve called Zelda and Becks, but I was too scared of coming off as weak and needy. Again. But I did need them, and I realized—too late—that being with the people who love you isn’t weak. It’s how you stay strong.
“See, Max?” I sniffed. “I still have a long way to go.”
Back home, I showered, changed, and set about to make another tuna casserole. It was the only thing I could think to do and I had to do something. Sawyer’s hearing was tomorrow, and Max’s words about him never asking for help wouldn’t leave my head. I could drop off the casserole and let him decide if he wanted my company.
A knock came at the door just as I was pulling the finished casserole from the oven. My pulse fluttered, and I took the oven mitts off my shaking hands.
But it was Jackson at my door, looking casually elegant as usual, in slacks and a dark sweater over a blue dress shirt. His handsome features were drawn together with worry and his dark eyes were heavy.
“What happened?” I blurted, my pulse hammering in my chest.
“Nothing yet,” Jackson said. “Can I come in? I told him I was stepping out to make a phone call.”
I blinked, shook my head. “Sorry, yes. Come in.”
Jackson was at least six-feet-three and seemed like a towering presence in my small space. I was suddenly glad Sawyer had this imposing and charismatic guy on his side.
“Would you like anything? Something to drink?”
Jackson shook his head.
I braced myself. “The paternity test…?”
“He and Olivia took it on Monday. The results are sealed until tomorrow at the hearing. Unless there’s been a miracle of science since he took the first test, it’s not going to go well.”
I sagged against the counter. “I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.” I waved a hand at the pan. “I made a casserole…”
“Come with us to the hearing.”
I jerked my eyes up. “What? No…I’m the drug addict neighbor, remember? I didn’t help his cause at all.”
“That was a low blow by their attorney,” Jackson said. “If the judge sees the real you and not the image Holloway tried to plant in his mind, it’ll help. And frankly, we need all the help we can get.”
“Can they really just take Olivia away?”
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. “The system’s improved for fathers’ rights in the last ten years, and courts never want to pull children out of good homes. There’s a statute about Sawyer acting and providing for Olivia as if she were his own, which gives him some claim to her, but it’s all we have. I don’t know that it’s going to be enough. Especially since Molly gave the baby to Sawyer but never bothered to put his name on the birth certificate,” he added bitterly. “If she had just done that…”
He broke off and shook his head.
“I’ll go if you think it will help,” I said, slowly. “Of course, I will. But are you sure that’s what he needs?”
Jackson nodded. “Yeah, I do. Sawyer needs you. He needs…” He blew air out his cheeks. “God, he needs something and I don’t know what to do for him. He’s like a robot these last few days. Hardly talks except to Olivia and even then it’s like…”
“Like what?” I whispered.
“He looks at her like, inside his mind, he’s already saying goodbye.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh no.”
“I know he’d fight for her with everything he has, but that’s just it. We don’t have much to fight with. At least not as far as the law goes.” Jackson put his hands on my shoulders. “Sawyer needs you. You do something for him I’ve never seen before. You make him happy.”
Tears filled my eyes. “I don’t know, Jackson.”
“I do. The judge needs to see Sawyer as something other than cold and stiff. I think you’re the only person who can bring that out of him.”
“I’ll try,” I said. “But what if Sawyer doesn’t want me there? What if…”
“He doesn’t have a choice,” Jackson said, his old smile coming back. “He has to take the advice of his attorney—me—and I say I want you there.”
I smiled and hugged Jackson. “Okay, I will.”
“Thank you, Darlene.” Jackson gave me a final squeeze and let me go. “I’ll have a car out front at nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be there. Oh, wait! Come here.”
Jackson followed me to the kitchen area and I put the oven mitts on his hands.
“Take the casserole to him. It has peas in it. For Livvie.”
Jackson smiled. “He might guess that I didn’t step out to make a phone call.”
I grinned. “Your cover is blown.”
I opened my front door and craned up on tiptoe to give Jackson a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for helping him.”
“Right back at you, Dar,” he said, and went out.
The next morning, I put on my best I’m Not A Junkie outfit—a flowing, white dress with colorful flowers that brushed my knees. I usually paired it with my combat boots to give it some edge, but today I wore my low-heeled dance shoes, and toned my usually heavy eye-makeup down. I piled my hair on my head in a loose bun and put on my lucky gold hoop earrings.
I was downstairs at ten minutes to nine, my stomach twisting itself in knots. Sawyer and Jackson were at Elena’s, giving Olivia over to babysit. I slipped past them to wait outside. If I talked to Olivia for even a second I was going to burst into tears.
The front door opened behind me a few minutes later. Sawyer stopped short. He was devastating in a dark blue suit and paler blue tie. I could swear I saw the stoniness of his eyes melt a little as he took me in.
“There she is,” Jackson said, his smile brilliant. “Our secret weapon.” He kissed my cheek. “You’re a vision. Everyone in that courtroom will be helpless not to fall in love with you.”
My face flushed red up to my ears. “Oh my God, stop.” I looked to Sawyer. “Jackson said I should come. That it might help…”
“Don’t you have to work?” Sawyer asked dully.
It was going to put a dent in my bank account to miss another day, but what was that to what Sawyer was facing? I’d worry about it later.
“This is much more important,” I said.
Sawyer held my gaze a moment more, then nodded and moved to the sedan idling at the curb.
“See?” Jackson murmured in my ear as we followed him down. “He’s shut down.”
“No,” I said, my heart heavy. “He’s just scared to death.”
In the car, I sat wedged between Sawyer and Jackson in the backseat. Sawyer propped his chin on his hand, his gaze on the streets outside. His other hand was in his lap. Without giving myself a chance to outthink it, I reached over and took it in mine. Sawyer stiffened and didn’t pull his gaze from the window. But after a moment, he sighed; a little tension left his body and he laced his fingers with mine.
I eased a sigh of relief too and glanced over at Jackson. He gave me a surreptitious a-okay sign. But as the car rolled up in front of the Superior Court, Sawyer’s body tensed all over again. He let go of my hand and got out of the car without a word.
Inside the courtroom, the Abbotts were already there. My immediate reaction was confusion; I’d imagined them as heartless monsters, but they looked put together and wealthy with their pastel clothing and silver hair.
They look like nice people.
Both of them turned in their seats when we came in, their eyes searching to meet Sawyer’s, both wearing hopeful smiles. But he refused to look at them, and their gazes landed on me.
I smiled brightly at them, almost like a reflex. I couldn’t help myself, and besides, I figured it couldn’t hurt if someone on Sawyer’s side acted as a goodwill ambassador.
The Abbotts’ attorney frowned at me, whispered something to his clients. They turned back to me as I took a seat in the audience, directly behind Sawyer and Jackson’s table, wary now.
Yes, that’s me. I’m the recovering drug addict, I thought. But I kept my chin up and smile friendly. A few minutes later, the bailiff told us to rise and the judge came in.
He settled his glasses on his nose and took up an envelope in his hand. “In the matter of the custody provisions for Olivia Abbott, a minor child, the Court has received Mr. Haas’ paternity results.” He fixed his stern gaze on Sawyer. “Mr. Smith, does your client have anything to enter into the record at this time?”
Jackson rose to his feet. “Your Honor, we’d like the Court to recognize Darlene Montgomery.” He turned to gesture to me. “The last time we met, Mr. Holloway tried to cast aspersions on those who have helped Sawyer take care of Olivia, and we would like the Abbotts, and the Court, to hear a few words from Ms. Montgomery herself.”
My eyes widened and I shot Jackson a panicked look.
No one said anything about talking!
But I sucked in a breath to calm down. Hell, I’d already taken the Silkwood shower. What was saying nice things about Sawyer compared to that?
But the judge shook his head.
“There will be time enough after the test results are read for any character statements, though if Mr. Haas himself has anything he’d like to say, he is free to do so.”
From my vantage behind them, I saw Jackson nudge Sawyer under the table, but Sawyer remained still as stone. My gaze darted to the Abbotts. Both looked on the edge of their seats, craning in with hopeful expressions on their faces.
The judge sighed. “Very well. The Clerk of the Court shall now read and enter the DNA test results into the record.”
He handed the envelope to a young woman in a sharp navy suit. The courtroom went silent but for the soft tearing of paper. My imagination told me that was the sound of Sawyer’s heart tearing in two.
He lifted his head, and the sudden movement drew everyone’s attention.
“Please don’t.”
The words hung in the air and it took me a second to realize Sawyer had said them. A collective gasp whipped through the courtroom. My own breath stuck in my throat to hear the pain that saturated every syllable; he sounded exhausted down to his soul.
“Please don’t read that,” he said.
Sawyer rose to his feet. His shoulders were rounded, as if he carried the weight of the universe in every pore and sinew of his body. But I watched him unfold, stand straighter, his voice strengthening but still soft with pain and hope and love.
“Olivia is my daughter,” he told the courtroom. “She is, no matter what that test says. And in a few weeks, none of this would have mattered. I would have crossed that arbitrary finish line the law has drawn in the sand, and petitioned to have my name put on her birth certificate. And it would’ve been done, no matter the test results. But there is a line, and simply because we’re on this side of it, I could lose her.”
I was riveted to Sawyer, but out of the corner of my eyes, Holloway whispered frantically to the Abbotts. They shushed him with shakes of their head. Everyone in that room hung on Sawyer’s every word.
“I have raised Olivia since she was three months old. She calls me Daddy.” His voice cracked and my heart cracked right along with him. “That test? It doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t need it to tell me how I feel, or how much I should love that little girl. I love her with every molecule in my body, and it doesn’t matter that none of mine match any of hers. I don’t care that they don’t. I never did.”
He heaved a steadying breath. “I took a paternity test before. Ten months ago, after Molly left the baby with me. That test didn’t matter, either. It had only been a few days but it was still too late. Since the minute Molly put Olivia in my arms and said she was mine, she was.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, but tears streamed down my face anyway. Mrs. Abbott dabbed her eyes with a tissue and her husband pressed his fist to his mouth, listening.
Sawyer turned to them, his eyes full. “I know you don’t know me, but Olivia does. Please don’t take her from me. Please. She’s my daughter. She’s my little girl. Thanks…thank you.”
He slumped back down and it took everything I had not to jump out of my chair and go to him, to hold him. Jackson gripped his shoulder and said something but Sawyer only shook his head, covered his eyes with his hand.
Judge Chen looked to the Abbotts who were talking in hushed, urgent voices at their attorney, who whispered and gestured back in a mess of confusion.
“Mr. Holloway,” the judge said, “is there something your clients would like to say?”
Reluctantly, the lawyer got to his feet. “Your Honor, we’d like a conference in chambers.”
Judge Chen’s face remained impassive, but I could swear I saw relief touch his features. He nodded.
“Granted.”
I watched as the bailiff led the court reporter, and both parties to the judge’s chambers at the rear of the courtroom. Jackson put his arm around Sawyer, who moved like a sleepwalker carrying a thousand pounds on his back. Just before he stepped into the chambers, he turned and our eyes met. His beautiful face was painted with anguish and hope. I smiled through tears and gave him two thumbs up.
The smallest twitch of a smile touched his lips, and stepped inside. The bailiff followed him and shut the door behind him.
I let my hands drop and my tears fell with them. I felt like fool for giving him such a silly gesture but it’s all I had. That and hope, because it was so apparent that if he lost Olivia, nothing would ever be okay ever again. And I realized with a horrible pang that added to the already heavy anguish in my heart, that losing Olivia would hurt me too. More than I realized.
Minutes ticked by. I was the only person in the gallery besides the Clerk who sat at her desk, shuffling papers. She had the results of the DNA test. I wanted to hurdle the rows of benches, tear it from her hands, and rip it to pieces so no one could ever know what it said.
Finally, the chambers’ door opened and a jolt of panic and hope jerked me ramrod straight. The judge emerged first, his face impassive as ever, followed by the Abbotts, who exchanged nervous smiles with each other. I craned my head, practically jumping out of my seat, until I saw Jackson’s wide smile and Sawyer…
I love him.
The thought tore through me with heat and electricity both.
Oh my God, I love him. I’m in love with him.
I was in love with Sawyer, because in that moment, his happiness—the wholeness of his heart—was the only thing that was important to me. And I realized too, that all times I’d thought I’d been in love before were nothing. Infatuations of my lonely heart. I had no thought for myself in that courtroom. Only love for Sawyer and the fervent hope that nothing would ever hurt him.
I drank him in, searching for a sign of what happened in that meeting. His eyes were red-rimmed but and he looked shell-shocked; heaving a sigh—of relief?—and answered Jackson’s smile with a wan one of his own. As he crossed the courtroom, his eyes found mine. His smile widened a little, and then he turned to take his seat.
I sucked in a breath. The judge cleared his throat.
“The Petitioners have requested a motion to delay reading of the order for paternal DNA results until the Respondent has completed his bar exam for the State of California, scheduled to be begin on Monday of next week. The motion is granted. The test results will remain sealed until that time as this Court reconvenes on the following Friday. Plaintiffs, in addition to their prearranged weekend custody, are granted temporary, supervised custody of Olivia Abbott, the minor child, for the three-day duration of Mr. Haas’s bar examination. Hearing adjourned.”
He banged his gavel and Sawyer slumped in his chair. The Abbotts approached and words were exchanged. Jackson shook Mr. Abbott’s hand. Alice Abbott moved to Sawyer and it looked to me like she was trying not to touch him or hug him. She looked like a mother regarding her son, and hope took flight in my chest. A few more words were passed between them, and then the Abbotts left, both giving me a nod as they did.
I hurried around the partition to Sawyer and Jackson.
“What does this all mean?”
“It means the Abbotts didn’t want to tank Sawyer’s bar exam with bad results,” Jackson said. “We haven’t won, but this delay gives me hope that no matter what happens, the Abbotts are flexible.” He elbowed his friend. “Either that, or susceptible to your manly displays of emotion.”
Sawyer heaved a ragged breath. “Now what do I do?”
“They take Olivia tomorrow morning through Wednesday,” Jackson said. “You have this weekend to study, and then the Big Test, which you are going to kill.”
Sawyer nodded. “So we can go? Right now I just want to get back to Olivia.”
We left the courthouse. The sun was high and golden, and almost as bright as Jackson’s smile as we walked to the sedan he said his company had given him to use. It seemed the entire world was different from the one we woke up in this morning.
“So, Darlene, what’s going on with you?” Jackson asked as we walked to the parking lot. “Have any fun plans this weekend?”
I gave a small laugh at his infallible humor and optimism.
“Uh, yeah, I have a dance thing Saturday night.”
In my peripheral, Sawyer raised his head. With effort, I kept my eyes on Jackson. “It’s totally no big deal, though. Tiny little show in a nothing theatre. Like, fifty capacity.” I laughed nervously. “If we fill ten seats I’d consider it a success.”
“Damn, my brother’s got a graduation party tomorrow night in Oakland, or I’d totally show up,” Jackson said. “I didn’t know you were part of a dance company.”
“I wouldn’t call it a company,” I said. “It’s super small. I just auditioned to dip my foot back in the waters, you know?”
We arrived at the sedan and the driver opened the door for us. “Well, break a leg,” Jackson said. “Wait, am I supposed to say that for dancers, or just actors?”
“If you’re wishing me luck, I’ll take it.”
We climbed in and once again, I was wedged between Sawyer and Jackson. My thigh pressed against Sawyer’s and I felt every place where we touched, just the same as we had on the way over.
Except now I know I’m in love with him.
The car dropped us off first. Jackson climbed out to say goodbye. He pulled Sawyer into a hug.
“I’ll drive you to Sac on Sunday, but just know you’re going to kill it. You’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Sawyer said. “For everything.”
“You did all the heavy lifting.” Jackson turned his smile to me. “And you go bring that fifty-seat house down with your dance, okay?” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Where is it again? And what time? Just in case I can sneak out of the party early.”
“Um, eight o’clock at the Brown Bag Theatre, off Capp Street? But really, it’s cool. You don’t have to. It’ll take longer to find parking than to watch the actual show.”
“That’s what these babies are for,” Jackson said and tapped the roof of the car. “Or Ubers. Or cabs. Or trains. Or buses,” he said at Sawyer, then grinned. “Take care, you two.”
Outside our house, Sawyer carved a hand through is hair.
“Thank you for coming today.”
“I didn’t do anything…”
“You did,” Sawyer said. “It was good to have you there. I think it helped me to find the words when I needed them most.”
A warmth spread through my chest. “I’m glad I could help,” I said in a small voice.
Sawyer turned his gaze to the Victorian. “I don’t want to go to Sacramento,” he said. “I feel like I’m losing whatever time I have left with her. I’m too scared to let myself think today was anything but a stay of execution.”
I touched his hand. “The Abbotts are good people. Even if they get custody, I feel like they won’t cut you out. You’ll have partial custody, or visitation…”
“I don’t want that,” Sawyer said, his eyes hard. “I want full custody. All the time.”
“I know you do. But I think, somehow, it will be all right. In a way that we can’t see yet.”
He nodded. “I can’t fall apart right now. Or at all, I guess. Not until after the exam.” He looked up at me suddenly, the anguish pulling at him again. “Five days, Darlene. Jesus, I wish…”
“What?” I asked softly. “Tell me.”
His jaw clenched and anger hardened his features in a way I recognized; when he was overcome with emotions and didn’t know what to do with them. The anger was directed inward, as if he thought he was a failure for having them.
His dark eyes caught and held mine. “I wish Olivia was staying with you.”
I reeled at the words. Words that meant he trusted me. That my past didn’t scare him. It was like a gift of hope, that maybe there was still a future for us too, even if we couldn’t see that yet either. Hot tears sprung to my eyes.
“Me too,” I said.