The meeting room is large, modern, and sparsely-furnished with one polished cherry wood oval table that dominates the space and seven high-back leather chairs. There’s a sleek matching side unit with a selection of colourful juices, bottled mineral water and five glasses. The far side of the room is floor to ceiling glass with an impressive and uninterrupted view overlooking Navy pier and Lake Michigan. The morning mist hasn’t yet lifted, but when it does, this room will have the most amazing view. I just hope I’m not still here to see it. I want this to be over quickly, so I can get back to Ruby’s side, where I belong.
We all take our seats, and an awkward silence settles with the only sound the rustle of material from my trousers under the table. I quickly push down on the top of my right thigh to stop the nervous bouncing. Harper’s brow arches high when she looks over at what I’m doing as my arm continues to jiggle beneath the table.
“What are you doing?” she asks, not bothering to whisper, since all eyes are now on me, and any sound is going to be heard. Even a church mouse is going to sound like a jumbo jet taking off in here.
“She’s nervous. Her legs jump like that when she’s anxious.” Joel offers lightly, and I nearly bite his head off.
“Yes, thank you, insight man. It is not a huge surprise, given that you want to steal my daughter.”
“My daughter too,” he replies softly, the catch in his voice matches the surrender of his palms up hand gesture.
“Contenders, the bell hasn’t yet rung. Shall we at least wait until the arbitrator arrives before we put the gloves on?” Joel’s lawyer says, glancing at Harper with a wry smile I want to slap from her face. Still, I do need to rein in my temper, or Joel will not only get what he wants, he’ll probably get me committed in the process. Harper’s hand slips beneath the table and she places it firmly on mine. I glance her way and take the non-verbal expression for what it is, silent support and a gentle warning: Keep it together, Regan.
The door behind Joel and Alison opens, and Judi Dench’s doppelgänger walks in, in an olive tweed suit, pale pink blouse with a ribbon tie, and a single string of pearls resting on her ample frontage.
“Good morning, everyone. My name is Judy Flanders. I am your appointed arbitrator today,” she says, and I daren’t risk a glance at Harper because I know she’s thinking the same thing: James Bond’s M is going to be our arbitrator; how cool is that? “Yes, yes, I know I look like the actress, and, no, Daniel Craig isn’t going to be popping by, unfortunately.” She has a friendly smile, which she spreads around the room like a ray of sunshine. At any other time, I might warm to her or laugh at the joke. Today, however, my sense of humour eludes me.
Judy pulls the chair out at the end of the table and hangs her jacket over the back. Once seated, she retrieves a red file and pencil from her brief case. She places them neatly in front of her and looks up. “Now, first thing’s first. You have both chosen to be here today. I can assume you wish this dispute to be resolved here and now rather than end up in court.” I seem to be the only one nodding. Judy continues to clarify what Harper has explained at length, and I guess Joel already knows since this was his suggestion. “Although this isn’t a court, the decision I make today is just as binding, does everyone understand?”
“Yes,” Joel answers, and I nod, then with a nudge from Harper, I give the same response.
“Good, so who would like to go first?” She picks up her pen and opens the file to a clean lined page.
“Regan, you’re Ruby’s mother, would you like to go first?” Joel offers, the deep timbre of his voice seems to softly caress the word mother, and his eyes hold mine for a fraction of a second too long. I can’t get a read on that look. It’s a messed up mix of tender reverence and misplaced pride. Whatever it is, it’s too little, too late.
“Aunt, Ms Jones is Ruby’s aunt. Mr Prescott is her father.” Joel’s lawyer interjects. I feel the hit. Joel winces, and Judy responds.
“Yes, I’ve read the notes, thank you, Ms Wright. Regan has raised Ruby as her own from birth, and, trust me, splitting hairs will do your client no favours in here or in court.”
“I never disputed Regan is Ruby’s mother. I merely wanted to assert than I’m her father,” Joel states. His eyes bore into mine, and it takes what little strength I have to hold firm and return his glare. I tell myself over and over: I’m doing this for Ruby.
“Assertion noted, Joel. Now Regan, would you like to explain why you object to granting Ruby’s father access?” I face Judy, thankful to break the intensity of Joel’s gaze, even for a moment. I’m drawn to him, always have been, and have to fight the pull. I can’t let him get to me, to us.
“She’s very sick. She doesn’t know him. The stress of this situation in addition to her illness, I’m genuinely concerned would make her worse.” I state my only real cause for concern.
“Is she not unconscious?” Judy asks.
“Yes, but when she wakes.”
“You believe knowing her father would make her worse?” Judi scribbles some notes, and I look from her to Joel. I can’t hold his gaze; it’s too much. I can see it all too clearly; he’s scared, vulnerable, so damn hurt that I believe this.
“I…I… Yes.” I blink and keep my lids clammed shut, as if not looking at him will make this any easier. It won’t. This is fucking awful, and my resolve starts to deteriorate as tendrils of doubt creep into my periphery.
“Then don’t tell her,” Joel adds, to my confusion.
“What?”
“Don’t tell her I’m her father. She doesn’t have to know that until she’s ready.” His voice is calm, reasoned even, and I’m taken back. “I agree with you, Regan, it was a fucking…excuse me. Finding out I’m a father was a damn shock to me, and I’m an adult. It would be more of a shock for her; I understand that. I don’t want anything to hinder her recovery, but she likes me, Regan.” His hand twitches to reach across the table. He clenches his fist and stops himself, drawing in a deep, steady breath before he continues repeating what I know is true. “Ruby likes me. You said so yourself. Let me spend time with her as a friend.”
“You don’t want her to know you’re her father. Somehow I find that difficult to believe,” Harper responds since I’m struggling to speak. This is so hard.
“I’m not saying never tell her, just when she’s ready.”
“That seems a fair compromise,” Judy says, and a jolt of panic brings me back into the conversation.
“You can’t make her spend time with you,” I argue.
“I wouldn’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do.”
“You’re making me do this,” I snap.
“No, you’re making me do this.” His heartfelt response winds me. “Regan, if she doesn’t want to spend time with me, I won’t make her.”
“Of course she’ll want to spend time with you. You’ll shower her with gifts.” I sniff, contempt thick and judgment in my tone. What little girl wouldn’t be swayed by the charming, handsome man bestowing time and luxury gifts? Recalling this past Christmas, I shudder to think what he’s capable of spending on his own child given the gifts he lavished on a godchild he barely sees.
“Make that a condition if it worries you.”
“What?”
“I won’t spend a dime, if that’s what you want.”
“Another fair compromise. I think we’ll be out of here in no time.” Judy writes some more notes, and I feel the rush of fear race like heat across my skin. No, this isn’t happening, decisions are spiralling, and I feel like I’m circling the drain for all the impact I’m having. I grab hold of Harper’s sleeve tugging like a hysterical child.
“No…Harper? Harper, make it stop!” I plead and, at her wide-eyed response, I release my vise-like grip and force myself to calm the fuck down. I draw in a steady breath and exhale with an easy smile forced and fixed on my face. I turn to address Judy.
“Even if this is acceptable, which, I would like to clarify, I’m not saying it is, what happens when she comes home? These aren’t your only demands are they, Joel? You want to share her, joint custody?” My voice cracks at the very thought, and my stomach lurches with bile. Don’t throw up, Regan. Hold it together.
“Not my preferred option, but something like that, yes.” He looks at me, intense and intriguingly cryptic. If I wasn’t in such turmoil, I might be able to wade through the heated glare and weighted intonation in his words. As it is, I’m clueless and barely holding it together. He breaks eye contact and addresses Judi. “In time, I want to have Ruby stay with me. I want to be a proper father, a real father, since I’m never going to be able to have another child of my own.”
“Did you not tell Regan that, as part of your inheritance, you had to make a ‘deposit’ ”—Harper air quotes for emphasis here—“to keep the family name going?”
“I did tell her that.” His lips start to curl, it’s only a fraction of a movement when he checks himself, straightens, and seems to brace himself to continue. “I didn’t tell her, however, that I never got around to it before I contracted mumps.” His voice wavers, and I almost blurt out a cold laugh. It’s an act; it’s not remotely funny, and judging by Judy’s slight tilt of her head, it’s fucking working. “I can’t have more children, Regan, you can.” He adds with a break of eye contact, dipping them in what? Defeat?
Wow, just wow.
“Oh, that’s all right, then. Never mind me losing that kid, I’ll just drop out another one, because that’s the fucking same!” Sarcasm thickly coats each of my words until my jaw drops with the ridiculousness of that argument. I throw my hands up and shrug it all off as a situation simply solved with my new suggestion.
“That’s not what I meant!” he growls. Fury pinches his jaw shut, and it takes a good few seconds for him to regain his composure. It was a low blow. I know he didn’t mean that, and now I have a sizeable helping of guilt to add to my ever-increasing mix of emotions. The silence is charged but only lasts a moment when Joel speaks. “I made a lot of mistakes, Regan, a lot. Letting Ruby go now would eclipse anything, and I’m not going to do that. I want to a real father to her…in time.” He adds the last part in light of his earlier concession.
“How? How would that even work, Joel? You work full-time. Your apartment is hardly child-friendly.” I feel I’m clutching at straws now as he continues to take the fire out of my desire to deny this good man, a man I loved, access to the best little girl in the world.
“I love my work, but Ruby is more important. I have already requested to cut my hours. I’m not being presumptuous here, Regan, I’m just being optimistic.”
“As always, what about your apartment, that balcony for one?”
“I agree. I wouldn’t relax for a second.” He swallows thickly, and I can see he genuinely shares this concern. “It isn’t my intention to bring her to my city apartment at all, not until it is completely child-proofed. For the interim, we would stay at my mother’s, Ruby’s grandmother. She lives on the lake, a large, safe house about an hour’s drive from the city.”
“Your mother has agreed to this?” Judy inquires with keen interest.
“Let’s not pretend your mother has a maternal bone in her body, Joel,” I interrupt for the purpose of injecting some reality into this Disney filtered scenario. “You were raised by nannies and your grandfather. And don’t forget your stepsister chose to go to full-time boarding school instead of coming home.”
“But that’s not me.”
“Dr Prescott would never leave Ruby alone, not for a minute, no matter what.” Joel’s lawyer effectively lays her cards on the table, and I reel from the inherent accusation and latent threat.
“Alison!” Joel booms his interruption that rattles the glass on the sideboard and silences the room.
“You win,” I mouth, broken and unable to gather enough strength to speak. I can’t do this anymore.
“Regan.” Harper turns to me, but I can’t focus as fresh, copious tears blur my vision.
“Leave, everyone out!” Joel stands, pushes his chair back and strides purposefully around the table, My shoulders start to shake with the strength of the sobs breaking my body apart.
“Dr Prescott, you can’t—” Judy’s indignant protest is cut dead.
“I can and have. Out, everyone!” He pulls my chair around to face him as he drops to his haunches and clears the room with one final command.
“Out, that means you, too, Harper.” He looks up as my friend hovers by my shoulder, waiting perhaps for me to say something, anything. I can’t. I have nothing left. Harper holds her phone between us and right in front of his face.
“You know, she wouldn’t let me use these, but you break her, and these go viral.” Joel doesn’t even look at the screen, which I know must have the most damning of the pictures of the marks he gave me. I reach up and snatch her phone. Tucking it under my arm, I clarify my position on this subject at least.
“I said no, and I meant no.”