Maisy
“We need to talk, baby.”
“No, we don’t.” I sidestepped Hunter in the living room of my parents’ house.
Before I could make my escape to the back patio, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, trapping me against his chest. “Maisy—”
“No, Hunter. No.” I shook my head. He’d been insisting on having “a talk” over the last month, but I’d denied him every time. “I told you. I don’t want to know. If whatever you have to say is just going to hurt, then I don’t want to know.”
“Please,” he begged. “I have to tell you some things about my past.”
“No.” I squirmed out of his embrace and turned, planting my hands on my hips. “I love you. I need you. I can’t make it through this if you aren’t by my side. And if you have to tell me something that’s going to make me want to send you away, then I don’t want to know.”
His jaw clenched tight. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do.” I stepped closer and covered his bearded cheek with my palm. “I know that whatever you’re going to tell me is going to ruin us. It’s going to break us apart. I see it in your eyes every time you’ve asked to talk. But I’m barely hanging on by a thread here. Please, don’t cut it.”
He sighed and closed his eyes.
I fell into his chest and snaked my arms around his waist. “Do you love me?”
“You know I do.” He wrapped his arms around my back.
“Then please do this for me. I trust you.”
He kissed my hair. “You won’t.”
My heart fell. “And that’s why I don’t want to know.”
It was foolish and naïve to stick my head in the sand about our relationship—I didn’t care. I’d slid backward this month, every day losing more and more of the confidence I’d found these last few years. The progress I’d made to move past Everett’s actions had disappeared, and the only thing keeping me from completely going off the rails was Hunter. Whatever secrets he had to confess about his past or family would have to wait until I knew the fate of my son.
Coby needed all of the strength I could summon. He needed all of my wits and my focus. I couldn’t let Hunter break my heart when Coby needed it to stay intact.
So, like I’d been telling Hunter over and over, I needed him by my side. He was part of the glue keeping all my pieces together. After Monday, when the judge made his decision about the petition, then I’d let all the pieces fall apart.
“Dinner!” Mom called from the kitchen.
Hunter let out a deep breath. “I’ll go get Coby.” He kissed my hair one last time, then let me go, walking out of the living room and toward the back patio where my brothers were watching Coby play in the yard with Pickle.
I turned and walked to the dining room, the mountain of stress on my shoulders making my footsteps heavy.
It had been thirty-six days since Everett’s mother, Eleanor Carlson, had served me with a custody petition. Thirty-six days of spontaneous crying fits. Thirty-six days of skipping meals because food rarely sat well in my knotted stomach. Thirty-six days of greeting myself in the bathroom mirror each morning with dark circles under my eyes.
Thirty-six days of waiting for a judge to decide my fate.
If not for Hunter, I never would have survived this month. I’d lost count of the number of times he’d reassured me things would be okay. The number of times he’d pulled me into his arms because he’d known I’d been on the verge of tears. Other than when he’d go to work, he’d been constantly by my side. He’d even come to every appointment with Stuart Redhill, my attorney.
Including the one I’d had this afternoon.
I wasn’t looking forward to telling my family about my meeting with Stuart, but that was why we were here. This special Friday-night dinner was to prep everyone before the custody hearing on Monday morning.
“Mommy!” Coby came racing inside, followed by Hunter and my brothers. “Uncle Michael said he’s taking me wif him to the park!”
“That’s awesome!” I pretended to be shocked even though we’d already arranged for Michael to distract Coby so that Hunter and I could talk to the others about the custody case. “You just have to eat a big dinner first so you’ve got lots of energy, okay?”
“Okay.” Coby smiled wide, then ran off toward the bathroom.
I watched him until he disappeared, memorizing everything about the way his hair flopped when he ran. What would I do without him? I wouldn’t make it. That little boy was my entire world. The idea of him spending even one night away from me and with that woman was too much to bear.
My nose started to sting and my eyes watered as I took a seat at the table. Pinching some skin under the hem of my shorts, I squeezed tight and twisted. I swallowed an “owie” and let the pain snap me out of my pity party.
The self-punishment I’d once used to stop saying “like” now stopped me from crying in front of Coby. When he was at daycare or asleep, all bets were off, but I’d worked diligently to keep it together in front of him. As far as my son knew, life was good. He didn’t know a thing about this custody hearing and wouldn’t unless the unthinkable happened and he was forced to meet his “grandmother.”
A snarl formed on my lips.
Eleanor Carlson was the devil.
I didn’t hate many people, but I hated that woman for trying to take my son.
“Uh-oh,” Michael teased as he sat in the chair across the table. “I bet I know who that look is for.”
“Yep,” I muttered and dropped my snarl. “This looks great, Mom.”
She set down my favorite potato salad. “Thank you. Eat as much as you’d like.” She was worried about the five pounds I’d lost this month and had been going above and beyond to make my favorite foods and drop them by the loft.
“I will.” Since I hadn’t eaten anything all day, I was actually hungry for a change.
“I’m starving,” Dad said, sitting at his regular seat at the head of the table. He reached for a huge scoop of potato salad but then paused, sighing as he dropped the scoop and went back for a smaller portion, plopping just a dollop onto his plate.
“I’m proud of you, Dad.” He’d lost nearly twenty pounds since his heart attack two months ago.
“Me too,” Sabrina said as she sat down.
He smiled at us both. “Thank you, girls.”
Everyone else took their seats at the table, Hunter and Coby each taking a chair at my side, and after Coby said grace, we all dug in for a delicious meal. Conversation was quiet as we all scarfed until Beau broke the silence.
He cleared his throat and covered Sabrina’s hand on the table. “We’ve got some news.”
Forks and spoons clinked on plates and all eyes landed on my brother, whose face was split in a silly grin.
“You’re pregnant!” Mom shrieked, standing from her seat next to Dad.
“Jeez.” Dad winced and rubbed an ear. “Marissa, would you let them talk?”
She stayed on her feet and stared at Sabrina, waiting.
Finally, my sister-in-law put Mom out of her misery. “I’m pregnant.”
“Yes!” Mom’s hands flew toward the ceiling.
Cheers filled the dining room.
“Congratulations!” I clinked my Dr. Pepper can with Beau’s beer and Sabrina’s water.
When I turned to Hunter, he winked at me. If I hadn’t already been smiling, I would have by reflex. That wink had been the catalyst for most of my smiles this past month, so he’d give it to me at least once a day. Besides offering me comfort, making me smile had become Hunter’s mission in life.
“I love you,” I mouthed.
His eyes softened. “Love you too.”
We both turned back to our plates, and per Mom’s request, I ate a second helping of potato salad while we all fussed over Sabrina and offered up baby names.
What a lucky baby. He or she would have devoted parents and adoring grandparents. I was glad that Beau and Sabrina would never be put through the mess that Everett’s mother was dragging me through.
“Coby, you ready?” Michael asked as he popped one last bite into his mouth.
Coby nearly came off his chair. “Is it time to go to the park?”
Michael nodded and stood. “Let’s do it.”
“Have fun.” I kissed Coby’s hair before he climbed off his chair and rushed to the door to put on his shoes.
Mom and I cleared a few plates while Michael secured Pickle to his leash, but the moment the door clicked shut, we sat back down and wasted no time cutting to the chase.
“Okay. What did Stuart say?” Dad asked.
Hunter clasped my hand as I started the recap of my attorney’s message.
“To start, we all need to be at the courthouse before eight thirty on Monday morning. Stuart wants us in our seats and ready so that when the judge starts the proceedings at nine, we’re not rushing in or out.”
Dad nodded. “We’ll be there before eight.”
The doors wouldn’t even be open until eight, but since I’d be there early too, they could keep me company on the sidewalk.
“What else?” Beau asked.
“You’ve all had your preliminary meetings with Stuart. He wanted me to remind you to stick to honesty. Don’t try and memorize a speech, just speak from the heart. Tell them what kind of a mother I am and your honest opinion of how Coby would react if he was placed with Eleanor.”
“He’d be miserable,” Mom said, shaking her head. “His home is here. He has no business living in Michigan.”
And he had no business living with Eleanor Carlson.
Eleanor had made quite an impression during our court-mandated interactions this past month. Basically, she’d proven she was a nasty bitch without a loving, nurturing, playful or grandmotherly bone in her body.
The week after I’d received the custody petition, Eleanor and I had appeared before the district judge so he could explain how our case would be handled. Given the small-town nature of Prescott’s court system, it had been a fairly informal meeting. The judge had explained that because this custody petition wasn’t due to parents divorcing, but instead a grandparent requesting custody—not just visitation—the process would be unique.
He’d ordered Coby to be evaluated by a child psychologist in Bozeman. He’d ordered Eleanor to present any evidence deeming me an “unfit” parent. And he’d ordered both of us into mediation to determine if we could come to an agreement outside the courtroom.
Eleanor had barely looked at me during that first court appearance. And the few times we had made eye contact, I had been met with an angry glare. Stuart had done all of the talking on my behalf and I’d just sat there for the thirty-minute meeting, trying my best not to cry.
The mediation had gone even worse.
Eleanor had refused to budge an inch on her petition. She was asking for Coby to live with her in Michigan for six months. Six months. She’d sat in silence as the mediator had tried to convince her to compromise on something more reasonable. But every time, Eleanor had just said no, then shot me her evil snarl.
Finally, after three hours, the mediator had given up.
“Did Stuart have the psychologist’s final report?” Dad asked.
I nodded. “Yes, and it all came back fine. She called Coby a ‘delightful and happy little boy.’ Stuart thought that with the psychologist’s report, plus the fact that Eleanor doesn’t have any evidence proving I’m an unfit parent, she won’t get the custody she’s after. But . . .”
“Uh-oh,” Mom muttered.
This was the part of the recap I didn’t want to give. “Stuart was very honest with us today. There’s a good chance the judge will grant her some time. Maybe a weekend a month. Maybe a month around the holidays. Judge Tubor is going to be fair, but at the end of the day, Eleanor is Coby’s grandparent. If it’s in his best interest to see her, then the judge will allow it.”
“But it’s not in his best interest!” Mom flew off her chair. “How can bringing in anyone related to that monster be in his best interest? I don’t care if Eleanor is Coby’s grandmother. She is Everett’s mother. Period. The last thing my grandson needs is to be confused about his biological father. Coby knows nothing of Everett and it should stay that way until he’s older. This is . . . this is fucking ridiculous!”
Mouths around the table fell open. I could count on three fingers the times Mom had ever said the f word in my presence and the curse didn’t sound right in her sweet voice.
“Mom, really?” Beau said, stifling a laugh. “Please don’t ever say that again.”
She huffed and sat back down, crossing her arms.
I fought to keep my laugh inside but Mom’s face was so hilariously red, I lost the battle. The minute I started giggling, the entire table broke out in laughter. Dad was the only one who tried to hide it with a cough.
The thing was, Mom wasn’t wrong.
This was ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous.
So much so, that instead of screaming like I’d wanted to for thirty-six days, I let go of my frustration through hysterical laughter. Laughter that filled the room for a few minutes, easing some of the tension from earlier.
As my laughter slowly faded away, I wiped the corners of my eyes. “Thanks, Mom. I needed that.”
She pouted. “Glad I could help.”
“Oh, Marissa,” Dad chided, pulling Mom into his side with a playful shake. She relaxed and let go of her frown.
“Anyway, what else did Stuart say?” she asked.
“Not much. Mostly just wanted all of us to be prepared.”
“But he’s confident?” Beau asked. “Stuart is confident that Eleanor isn’t going to get the fifty-fifty split she petitioned for?”
I nodded. “He’s confident.”
Though there was still a slim chance that she could get her wish, Stuart had no doubt that Judge Tubor would deny that request.
“Do you think this is all part of her strategy?” Sabrina asked. “She asks for six months; the judge feels bad and grants her more than she would have gotten otherwise?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “All I know is that she’s the devil.”
“Did we ever find out why now? Why does Eleanor want custody after all this time?”
“The judge asked her that at our first appearance. She gave him a line about it being because of Coby’s birthday. That she couldn’t bear to miss any more of her grandson’s birthdays.”
“Absurd explanation.” Mom’s hands fisted her napkin into a tight paper ball. “If she’d wanted to be a part of Coby’s life, she would have made an effort years ago. This is all lies.”
“Total lies,” I agreed.
As much as it would have pained me, I never would have denied Eleanor access to Coby. All she’d had to do was call and ask. She could have come out and visited on my terms. Instead, the papers from her attorney were the first I’d ever heard from her.
And what a first impression.
Hunter’s thumb started stroking the back of my hand. “It will be okay.”
I leaned into his side and rested my head on his shoulder.
It will be okay.
Hunter’s ever-present reassurance.
“I can’t wait for this to be over,” Mom said.
I sighed. “Just a couple more days.”
I wasn’t sure if I should dread Monday or wish it would come faster. Until Monday, Coby would be mine and only mine, but I’d be living with the unknown. After Monday, I’d know our fate but Coby could be required to spend time with Eleanor.
“Speaking of things being over, I’ve been meaning to ask.” Mom looked to me. “Have those calls from the reporter stopped?”
“Reporter?” Hunter and Beau asked in unison.
I lifted my head off Hunter’s shoulder to meet his gaze. “Some reporter was calling me a couple months ago, wanting details about Everett. It wasn’t the first time a reporter has called so I just ignored them. But they’ve finally stopped. I guess they found someone who was actually newsworthy.”
“Wait.” Sabrina held up a hand. “That seems strange. Your story was dead years ago. Why is it of interest now?”
“I don’t know. Any ideas?” Sabrina had once been an investigative journalist in Seattle. If any one of us knew why my story was still garnering interest from the press, it would be her.
Before Sabrina could answer, Hunter asked, “What did he say?”
“It was a she, actually, and I only talked to her twice. The first time, she asked if I was the Maisy Holt who had murdered Everett Carlson. The second time, she asked if I was ready to talk about it.”
“Where did the calls come from? Which media outlet?” Hunter asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I never asked. Why?”
“Just curious.” His eyes dropped to his plate and he got a faraway look. “Do you have her number?”
I shook my head again. “No, it always came up as Unknown.”
His forehead furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just figured they’d stop.”
“And now they have, thank goodness.” Mom stood and started clearing more dishes. “Let’s just hope that was the last reporter.”
Sabrina still looked confused, like she wanted to keep discussing the reporter, but Dad came to my rescue and changed the subject. “Let’s talk about the party before Coby gets back. Everything set for Thursday?”
I nodded. “Yes, I just need to get some balloons. Gigi is making the cupcakes. Mom has all the other food. I’ve got the decorations.”
I refused to let this custody hearing impact Coby’s birthday Thursday, and no matter what the judge said, he was getting a party. Just like the other three birthday parties he’d had, we were having a barbeque at Mom and Dad’s. This year’s theme was water. Michael was building a Slip’N Slide and we were giving all the kids water guns, then telling them to go crazy. And tomorrow, Beau, Michael and Hunter were building my present to my son.
His bunk bed.
“What did you guys get Coby this year?” Beau asked Mom as she came back from the kitchen.
“We got him those neon shirt-and-shorts sets he loves so much and some shoes that light up when he walks.”
It was the perfect gift. Coby was obsessed with neon clothes, something his nana knew well—unlike Eleanor Carlson. Why? Because she’d never made an effort. She’d just filed her custody dispute like a coward.
“Hunter, what did you get?” Beau’s question stopped my internal rant.
Hunter, who had been staring absently at his plate, jerked at the question. “Sorry. What was that?”
“What did you get Coby?” Beau repeated.
“A new fishing pole.”
Sabrina smiled. “He’ll love that.”
Hunter smiled back. “He’s going to love the new fishing boat I bought last week too.”
“Hold up. What?” My mouth fell open. “You bought a boat? When? How did I not know about this?”
In addition to working my ass off at the motel, I’d nearly completed decorating Hunter’s house. We’d had a sleepover there two nights ago. How had I missed a boat?
He chuckled. “You need to spend more time in the garage, Blondie.” He stood from his seat and bent down to kiss my forehead. “I need to make a quick call. Be back.”
“Why would I go in the garage?” I asked Sabrina. “Wait, do garages need decorating? Should I get some of those industrial shelves or something?”
Beau and Dad shared a look.
I guess that means no on decorating the garage.
Turning, I watched Hunter walk toward the living room. His shoulders were hunched forward, and as he pressed his phone to his ear, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve got a headache,” Sabrina muttered to Beau.
I turned back around to see him kiss her temple. “Sorry, Shortcake.”
“Caffeine withdrawals. I wish I could take something.”
“What about Tylenol?” I asked.
She nodded. “I can but I don’t have any and I haven’t made it to the store yet.”
“I have Tylenol,” Mom said, coming back to the table. “One second.” Off she went in search of pregnancy-safe painkillers.
“Be back.” I stood from my seat and started toward the living room to find Hunter.
Behind me, Mom said, “Found it!” in the kitchen and shook the pill bottle.
That noise . . .
A chill crept down my spine and my mind snapped to a different place.
“Maisy, love.” Everett walked across the cold floor toward me. The plastic covering on the hospital bed beneath me crinkled as I pushed onto my elbows. “I want you to understand that your actions have brought this upon you. You should have terminated this pregnancy. I told you I had no interest in fathering a child. But no matter. The fetus will not be alive much longer.”
What was he saying? He was going to kill my baby? Our baby?
Everett reached into his pocket and pulled out an amber prescription bottle with a white lid.
“You’re going to take these.” The pills rattled as he shook the bottle. “You might survive them. That fetus won’t.”
“No!” I screamed but it was cut short when his hand whipped out and slammed into my cheek, stunning me silent.
“You will,” he growled. “Or I’ll slit Gigi’s throat right in front of you.”
I shook my head, frantically scrambling backward on the bed. I had to get away. I had to run. I had to protect my child.
But despite the panicked questions racing through my mind, I could still hear that rattling sound above all others. The bottle rattled as Everett leaned his body over mine, pinning me to the bed. It rattled as he fought to pry my mouth open. It rattled as I kicked and clawed and twisted, trying to get free.
It rattled—
“Maisy?”
Everett’s mouth formed my name but it was Hunter’s voice that came out.
I blinked once. Then twice. Poof, the flash was gone. I was back in my parents’ house, standing in the hallway outside the living room. My senior picture was on the wall next to Michael’s and Beau’s. Coby’s baby picture was framed on the other side of the hall. And Hunter was standing right in front of me, his hands on my shoulders.
“Maisy? What’s wrong?”
I didn’t answer. I was still too busy inspecting the room. The beige walls. The white trim. The tan shag carpet.
“Maisy?”
“Huh?” I blinked, focusing my eyes on Hunter. “Oh, sorry.”
He frowned and grabbed my elbow, gently steering me to the privacy of the living room. When we were out of earshot of the others, he fisted his hands on his hips. “What was that? You were white as a ghost and you looked at me like . . . like you were scared of me.”
I closed my eyes and pushed out a deep breath.
This explanation wasn’t going to be fun.
“That wasn’t you. That was, um . . . Everett.”
“Everett?”
“I kind of have these, um, flashes sometimes about that night. They just pop into my head, like déjà vu but more real.” I looked to my feet, embarrassed that I’d had to tell Hunter about my craziness. Other than Gigi and my therapist from years ago, no one knew about my flashes.
His finger hooked under my chin and tipped it up. “Flashes? Like flashbacks?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“How long have you been having flashbacks? Did the custody hearing bring them up?”
I shook my head. “I’ve had them all along.”
He dropped my chin. “Since that night?”
I nodded.
He closed his eyes. When they opened, his eyes were full of concern.
“I know it’s crazy,” I said, “but please don’t ship me off to the loony bin. That was actually one of the shorter ones I’ve ever had. So, that’s a good thing. Shorter is better. Well, sometimes. I’m glad you’re not short. Anywhere.”
The corner of his mouth turned up at my joke. With a fast tug, he pulled me into his arms. “This is all too much. You’ve got a lot going on up here.” He kissed my forehead. “I think we need to get you somebody to talk to.”
I nuzzled into his chest, soaking up his comfort. “I agree, but not until all of this stuff with Eleanor is over and tourist season comes to an end. I can’t take anything else right now. I’m just . . . I’m maxed out.”
“I know you’re maxed out, baby, but I really need to tell—”
“No.” I cut him off and hugged him tighter. “No. Just hold me close and tell me it will be okay.”
His arms squeezed tight. “It will. I promise. I’ll make this okay.”
Hunter
“Stuart.” I shook his hand. “Thanks for meeting me on a Saturday. I apologize for interrupting your weekend.”
Wearing jeans and a white polo, Stuart looked ready for a round of golf or an afternoon picnic.
“No problem at all,” he said. “Your call yesterday sounded a bit urgent. Is everything okay?”
“I’ll let you decide.”
He nodded toward his office. “Then you’d better come on in.”
While he walked behind his desk, I took one of the guest chairs I’d become all too familiar with this past month.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
I didn’t have much time to stick around. I was supposed to be at the hardware store buying another box of screws and then picking up lunch. Beau and Michael were currently at the loft, framing Coby’s bunk. Maisy was cleaning a couple of rooms at the inn with Coby as her assistant.
That meant I didn’t have time to chitchat with Stuart. I needed to get to the point and get the fuck out of here before they knew I’d been gone too long.
Stuart rested his dark forearms on the desk and leaned forward. “I’m ready when you are.”
“I need you to get access to some phone records. Can you do that before Monday?”
“Um, I can request them. Before Monday, though? That’s going to be tough. Why?”
I took a deep breath. If Maisy wouldn’t hear of my past, I’d at least tell her attorney. So that’s what I did. I spent the next thirty minutes confessing my secrets to Stuart Redhill.
Secrets that were going to destroy Maisy’s trust in our relationship.
But secrets that would keep Coby out of Eleanor Carlson’s grasp.