Chapter 22

REBUTTAL EVIDENCE

LUCY

“Oh, Lucy. I’m so sorry.” Claire held my hair as I hurled into the toilet again.

Ethan and his wife had been a godsend. Pregnancy didn’t agree with any part of my mind or body. Claire came over to help me when my days were bad. It was another bad day. I’d wept enough tears over the past few weeks to fill the Hudson. My abs screamed from the tightening that came along with the daily retching.

I sat upright. “Claire, you don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“You are so weak, girlie. I’m worried about you.”

Finding my balance, I staggered to the sink to wash my mouth out. “Seriously, you can go. You have your own things you need to take care of. I’ll be fine. This stupid morning sickness shouldn’t be as bad the rest of the day.”

I grabbed my Ensure shake from the fridge and collapsed on my makeshift bed on the sofa.

“Lucy,” Claire whispered as she picked up my feet, so she could sit beside me. Even though the foot rub felt good, I cringed because I knew what was coming. “Jenner deserves to know you are pregnant.”

I closed my eyes, hoping to hide my reaction to hearing his name. After all these months, my chest still felt as if it was caving inward making it impossible to breathe. Right after I’d left, Jenner had reached out several times…but still angry and frustrated, I’d blown him off. Never returned a call, or his texts. I didn’t know what to even say to him at the time. And now... fear of his rejection consumed me. I wasn’t a solo act anymore. Every decision I made from here forward affected this tiny creature in my womb.

Henley texted me regularly. For almost a month straight it seems, Jenner had showed up at her place looking for me. The last text I’d gotten from him was a Merry Christmas message…that was a month ago.

“Claire. I know he deserves to know. I get it. But Henley says our cases are almost done being reviewed. I don’t want to mess that up. Plus, I’m sure he just wants this to be over. And the last thing he needs is a baby thrown into the mix.” I recollected our conversation about not wanting children. A surge of nausea overwhelmed me again and I ran to the bathroom dry heaving into the toilet.

Claire rounded the corner. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Don’t tell Ethan I said anything.”

“Why? Ethan agrees with you.”

“Yes, but he worries about you being upset. You’re his first love, you know. He will always like you better.”

I laughed, wiping the spit dangling from my lower lip.

“He likes me because I’m not his wife. He likes me because I don’t control his penis.”

Claire laughed out loud. “True. But, he has always adored you.”

Her words filled my heart. I thought back about those hateful words uttered by Papa Supreme that night at my apartment telling me I wasn’t good enough for his son. Those words continued to haunt me. I was more than good enough. It was my family baggage that was the deal breaker.

“Want me to call the gal and postpone your interview for the foundation?”

I shook my head, then clipped up my hair. “No. I’m going to go. The trip into the city isn’t a problem. I’m just nervous about possibly running into him.”

“That isn’t likely, Miss.”

I huffed a laugh. “Let me tell you what’s not likely, Claire. It’s not likely to find a guy in a club, take him home, have him strip you of your virginity, then walk into the courtroom where you are just starting a new job and BAM!” I shouted. “You realize you slept with the judge. BUT! It happened. Regardless of how unlikely it might be.”

Claire giggled, sliding her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Sounds like fate to me. I mean, come on, Miss. This has Hallmark movie ending written all over it.”

I scrunched my nose at her. “My life is more like One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest meets Law and Order.”

“You deserve happiness, Lucy. You deserve him. I wish you’d realize that,” Claire added, changing the tone of the conversation.

At that moment, the slightest movement fluttered down low in my belly —so soft and mild that I questioned if I’d really felt it.

JENNER

I couldn’t remember a time in my life where I’d been more confused. Every single case Lucy and I shared had been reviewed and none of them had been appealed or overturned. My credibility had been questioned, and I’d come out on top. Yet confusion and unhappiness joined forces at my door. Maybe it was because my life had basically stayed the same and hers was turned completely upside down.

A month and a half had passed since my father told me he’d set up the foundation. It seemed like it was going to happen. One of the donors had contacted Lucy trying to arrange an interview. Apparently, she was interested in the position.

On Valentine’s Day—a highly overrated Hallmark holiday— I don’t know what drove me to go by Lucy’s apartment again, but something told me she was there. I knocked softly, not wanting to bring out any rolling-pin brandishing neighbors. When I heard movement inside the apartment, it was as if a balloon that had filled my chest for the past four months popped, allowing me to finally breathe.

When the door opened, my heart dropped. It wasn’t Lucy. The short, blonde standing in the doorway raised her brows. “Yes?”

“May I speak to Lucy?” My eyes searched the opening behind her.

“She’s not here.”

I pushed right past the girl. “Lucy!”

“Oh my God. Who are you? Lucy isn’t here.”

The girl ran past me and grabbed her cell phone.

“Lucy!” I shouted again as I darted from room to room.

“Get out!” she shouted. “I am subletting this place from her. She’s not here!”

Subletting? “Where is she?”

“I don’t know!”

“Can you come with me?” The voice drew both of our attentions.

Rolling pin lady stood in the doorway. Shit!

“You. Come.” She pointed at me with that damn rolling pin, then walked through the doorway across the hall. I followed. The smell of sugar and kindness met me at the door.

“Sit down.”

I did.

“Listen to me, young man. You can’t do that. You can’t just bust through someone’s door. She’s not here, and she’s not coming back for a while.”

I swallowed hard, the balloon in my chest filled to capacity again. “Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“That’s semantics.”

She picked up a sifter and sprinkled powder sugar over a plate of some type of dessert bars.

“Would you get her a message for me?”

“No need to. She’s getting yours just fine.”

I watched as she pulled out some sort of saran wrap, tore it off, then placed it over what she’d just made.

“Who is Ethan?”

As she guided a few stray hairs off her forehead with the back of her hand, she shrugged and carried the plate toward me.

“Lucy told me a few months ago that you loved key lime. I made these for someone else, but you take them. Happy Valentines.” She winked.

“Where is she? Is she ok?”

She sat across from me, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Young man. Let me tell you something. That beautiful girl never felt wanted by her psycho of a mother. Even less by a father who cared more about money than family. Honestly, I think she sometimes felt like even her grandfather took her in because he had to. But he loved her more than anyone ever could. When she went off to college and then law school, she pretty much cut herself off from the real world. Threw everything into her studies. She had a dream, you see. And then, the moment she was willing to let down her guard a little and open herself up, you were there. I’m pretty sure you’d be the first to admit that your relationship with Lucy wasn’t exactly fairytale material. I think your actions, reactions, once again left her feeling unwanted. From what I have read in the papers, and in Lucy’s texts, I understand why you probably did what you did. But, shame on you. She deserved so much more.”

I lowered my head ashamed. I didn’t need her making me feel bad, I felt that way all on my own.

“I’ll make this right. It’s killing me every day how I handled that whole mess.”

At the door, with my key lime bars in hand, I offered her a sturdy nod. “Thank you. Thank you for having her back.”

***

Knowing Lucy had told Midge about my messages, I knew I had nothing to lose. That night at home, sitting in front of a fire that I wished I was sharing with her, I texted.

Lucy-I’m sorry.

My eyelids grew heavy as I kept my phone in my hand, willing it to vibrate. The flames from the fireplace splayed out shadows across the room in a hypnotic pattern, lulling me to sleep. I hadn’t really slept well for months, but something about Midge’s kindness gave me hope.

***

I shot upright off the sofa to the ring of my phone. I didn’t recognize the number, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to miss Lucy if it was her.

“Hello?”

“Jenner?”

“Yes.”

“Good morning. This is Janelle Iliff.”

“Good morning, Janelle. How are you?” I wanted to shout ‘have you talked to Lucy’ but I didn’t.

“I’m fine. Thank you. I know it’s Saturday, but I was wondering if you could meet for coffee. I spoke with the young lady we interviewed.”

“Is she taking the position?”

“I think so. At least she is considering. However, there are some concerns.”

“What concerns?” I bee-lined it for the bedroom, undressing as I walked.

“That’s what I wanted to speak with you about.”

“Ok, that’s fine. Thirty minutes? Tell me where.” I turned the shower on.

“How about the sidewalk café over in the village? I need an hour.”

Thirty minutes longer than I wanted, but that would have to do.

“I’ll see you there. Thank you.”

I jumped in the shower, ecstatic that in sixty minutes I might know how to find Lucy. Things were looking up. I inhaled the deepest of breaths. Everyone deserved a second chance but never for the same mistake. Once I had her back, I would never hurt her again. Ever.

The café was busier than I’d expected, and I waited impatiently for Janelle to arrive. I stood as she approached.

“Nice to officially meet you, Jenner,” she said as she extended her hand.

We shook hands, and then sat at a little table in the corner of the room.

“To you, as well. What’s going on?”

“OK. So, we met with Ms. Edwards, and she is considering the offer to head up the foundation. Some members of the board questioned her qualifications, but we deflected them or answered them discreetly. Your father asked that the interview process be completely confidential with regards to your name or his being associated with it,” she said with raised brows.

“That’s correct.”

“Your father said you wanted a copy of all the paperwork. This is the generic interview form we used to gather her information.”

Without thinking, I spun the paper around, getting high at simply seeing that familiar handwriting. My eyes found the address line as I committed it to memory.

“…that’s going to be costly, I’m sure. So, though we offered her the position, that was one of the main concerns I had.”

I glanced up at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that first part. What is the concern?”

“Health care. She’s going to need it.”

“No problem. She’s single. It won’t be that costly.” That was the last of my worries.

“With all due respect, Jenner, prenatal care is expensive.”

Blood drained from my head, causing my thoughts to swim. I shook my head, trying to force the tunnel vision away.

“Pardon me?”

“Ms. Edwards is pregnant. I believe she said four or five months along. I can get clarification. Even though we have offered her the position, we can certainly express that we’ve reconsidered and retract the offer.”

Janelle’s mouth continued to move. The only thing running through my mind at the moment was that night in the hotel room when I didn’t have a condom. Our skin was already magnetic when it touched, but that night as I slid inside of Lucy, it was magical. And being able to come inside of her was not just a first for me but for her as well. Jesus. I’d planted a seed that night.

“Jenner?”

I swallowed, unable to find words as a mixture of emotions swelled inside of me. I vacillated between jumping up and running or finishing the conversation. Is that why she’d stayed away? My mind fought with thoughts of what was going through her head as well. Was she never going to tell me?

“Jenner, what do you want me to do?”

I cleared my throat. “Nothing. Nothing yet. I need to check on a couple of things.” I stood, knowing full well how rude I was being. “I’ll call you.” And…I left.