Equal Access (2 page)

A memory surfaced in Paxton’s thoughts as his
gaze slid toward Maddie. There were plenty of times when their
daughters were little that Paxton would set them to a task that
seemed unreasonable to the girls. Often they seemed to challenge
him with the question of why they had to do it. Unwilling or unable
at the moment to effectively explain how their participation was
necessary for their growth and development or the family good,
Paxton had been known to fire back “Because I’m Dad.”

Oh. So that’s the way this was going to be.
Thanks to his mule-headedness, Paxton was used to being sneaked up
on like this, so he immediately recognized that particular memory
wasn’t just a random thought. This was the most explanation he was
going to get. At least afterwards Paxton had made it a point to
explain to their daughters the significance of their cooperation.
Maybe, just maybe, when that day came that Paxton stood before God,
he’d get the answers to all his whys.

Paxton watched Maddie turn her head slightly
toward him, and he could see that well-known glimmer of
determination in her eyes. Even though she’d professed her personal
opinion was closer to his, Paxton knew what she was going to do.
Even though they both knew what lay ahead would most likely be
difficult, even though the timing of this event in their lives blew
chunks big time, Maddie was going to obey. Paxton could either make
their lives more miserable by resisting her charity or he could try
to salvage what dignity he had left. Experience had taught him that
Maddie was consistently right, and ultimately, eventually, just
shutting up and going along with what she told Paxton to do would
work out best. One of the many reasons he married her was because
Maddie was a virtuous woman, and that made her the sacred vessel
through whom God worked to bring out the best in him.

All cruelty springs from weakness.

--Seneca the Younger

That familiar anxiety wrenched Shad’s stomach
as he watched the patrol car cruise toward the park. Using a
well-practiced deep breath to settle his nerves, Shad stood from
the bench where he had been sitting and shifted the strap of the
leather carrying case for his laptop computer more comfortably over
his left shoulder. With his other hand Shad jostled a firmer grip
on a pink and purple day pack. He drew a second deep breath,
noticing again faint petroleum fumes on the humid mid-July air in
this St. Louis suburb, and began walking toward the white sedan
that slowed into a parking space as they approached each other.

The car stopped and its driver, a uniformed
policeman, still looked to Shad like the officer could be a recent
graduate from the police academy. Initially this had created some
concern for Shad, but he told himself to get over it. This man had
been trained for handling such duties, and besides, Shad had plenty
of familiarity with the fact there also were folks out there who
looked younger than they really were.

The two men nodded to each other, and Shad
asked, “So how did it go?”

“Simms was cooperative although it was
obvious he didn’t like it at all.” The officer glanced toward his
front-seat passenger, an older woman in civilian clothes who was
getting out on the other side of the car. His voice lowered a bit.
“Little girl’s eyes have been big as saucers the whole time.”

Shad nodded again and watched the woman open
the back door of the vehicle.

“Here you go, sweetie,” She said in a kindly
voice as she stooped toward the passenger. “This is where Mr.
Delaney picks you up and you get to go see your mom.”

The social worker fumbled for a minute with
the child restraints while continuing a friendly though one-sided
conversation with the occupant. Shad moved around the car to her
side and watched as she helped the five-year-old girl step out of
the sedan.

Charissa Simms immediately locked her gaze
upon Shad as she stood beside the vehicle. Before he habitually
shifted his own gaze away from hers, Shad noticed that Charissa’s
eyes were so dark they were almost black. Her long brown hair
cascaded halfway down her back in loose ringlets except for locks
on the sides of her face that were pulled back with a blue bow. She
wore red shorts and a white, collared blouse which seemed to
suggest Charissa had been dressed as a statement of how well-taken
care of she had been for the last month and a half. Even though
Shad was looking more at her mouth, he could see Charissa’s
attention shift to the day pack. As she started to look up again,
Shad offered a gentle smile and lowered himself to one knee before
the child.

“Hello, Charissa.” He set the day pack on the
pavement and offered his hand to her while briefly meeting her gaze
again. “I’m Mr. Delaney.”

Charissa glanced at his hand and slowly
extended her own as Shad continued. “This is all a little spooky,
huh? I bet you’ve got all kinds of questions.”

Charissa’s hand settled in his, and Shad gave
it a quick and gentle squeeze. She spoke as he released it, her
voice soft and quiet. “Mom’s alive?”

The nature of her question made him want to
shift into his more analytical ego, but Shad tried to keep it
balanced with his social self. “Oh yes, she’s alive.” The
analytical personality flexed some muscle. “Has someone told you
otherwise?”

Charissa continued to scrutinize him as
though still trying to decide whether Shad was friend or foe. “Dad
said she’s dying.”

That wasn’t a lie. What concerned Shad more
was just how Charissa’s father was relaying this information.

“The sickness your mom has ... it doesn’t
change how much she loves you. She wishes she could’ve come to St.
Louis with me, but since she couldn’t, she sent this for you
instead.”

Shad picked up the day pack and offered it to
the girl. With her gaze never leaving his face, Charissa gingerly
took it from him.

“Your mom packed all kinds of goodies in
there for you.” Shad offered his best version of a reassuring
smile. Then he decided to imply a new concept Charissa was going to
need to adapt to. “Your Uncle Eliot and Aunt Tess put some things
in there for you, too.”

Eliot Weller was supposed to be here with
Shad today, but he was a veterinarian and received an emergency
call concerning a prize brood mare this morning. Thus Eliot was
unable to meet Shad at the train station in Jefferson City, and
Shad had been forced to show up alone for Charissa’s scheduled
pickup. Having never done this sort of thing before, Shad was a
little more than annoyed by Eliot’s absence. Although he usually
preferred solitude, Shad had learned to value someone else’s
company whenever he was thrust into new situations.

Charissa didn’t say anything as she studied
the day pack without opening it. Shad stood again while the woman
was taking a small blue suitcase from the car’s back seat.

“I’ll take that.” Shad offered.

After settling some final details with the
officer and the social worker, Shad thanked them and guided
Charissa toward the playground area of the park as the patrol car
drove away.

“We have about half an hour before we need to
go to the train station.” Shad set his carrying case and her
suitcase on the first bench they approached. “Have you ever ridden
the train before?”

He already knew the answer, so when Charissa
shook her head it was the response Shad expected.

“You want to play on the playground while we
wait?”

The girl only stared at him in response.

Shad sat next to the cases. Charissa remained
standing at the other end of the bench. Her day pack was sitting on
it although she still gripped the top strap while never removing
her gaze from him.

Now that he was getting back into something
more familiar, Shad drew a cleansing breath and offered another
reassuring smile to Charissa. This would be much easier for the
girl if Eliot were with him to provide her with somebody she knew.
Too bad he didn’t have the option to pull his wife Dulsie out from
her job to tag along. Dulsie would still be a stranger to Charissa,
but at least Dulsie had a winning personality and a shared gender
with the child. If nothing else, Shad was certainly more at ease
whenever Dulsie was around.

“Or would you rather talk about what’s going
on?” Sure, he was trying to obtain additional testimony, but Shad
also recognized the value of allowing Charissa to speak her
concerns.

Charissa’s grip on the pack tightened for a
second, but then her eyes seemed less wide. “You don’t look like a
lawyer.”

Shad’s response was deadpan. “I’m traveling
in disguise.”

He was conscientious of speaking the truth,
even in jest. Shad had purposefully worn tan slacks and a sage,
short-sleeved, button-down shirt because a suit might be
intimidating to the child. He also didn’t want to look “official”
to others as he (and Eliot, originally) escorted Charissa back to
her home. Besides, Shad hated wearing suits and welcomed any
opportunity to eschew them.

The girl seemed to consider his answer for a
minute before speaking again. “How much money you gonna make?”

If ever there was a question he hadn’t
expected her to ask, that would be it. It was Shad’s turn to stare
at Charissa with some bemusement before he responded.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Dad said you’re hauling me away only because
you figured out a way to make a bunch of money.”

Demetri Simms’s evaluation fell in line with
what most people, Shad included, thought about lawyers. But Shad’s
motivation for tackling a situation other attorneys had dismissed
had nothing to do with money and everything to do with ... justice.
And it had been his thirst for justice that had driven him to this
occupation. Distilling the complexities to the level of a
five-year-old, however, wasn’t going to be easy.

“I’m not here for the money.” Shad leaned
forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin on
clasped hands. “I’m also not hauling you away. I’m taking you
home.”

Charissa regarded him with unwavering
wariness. “I don’t have a home back –” She seemed to reconsider her
choice of words but couldn’t settle upon an appropriate substitute
quickly enough. “– home.”

“Did somebody tell you that?”

Charissa finally stopped looking at him and
lowered her head to study the day pack. Her slender, tanned fingers
kneaded at the hanging loop on top.

Had she been coached, or more likely
threatened, not to say too much? The last thing he could risk was
pushing too hard, which luckily Shad was better at catching himself
when working with kids than adults.

“How do you feel about going back to see your
mom?”

Charissa looked back up at him, and for the
split second that Shad met her eyes he thought he noticed a flash
in them.

“Why do you care?”

If only Eliot hadn’t run off to save that
mare there wouldn’t be so much antagonism to deal with. Charissa’s
father had probably done his best to fuel the fire against her
mother’s attempts to regain their daughter.

“I have every reason to care.” Shad drew
another deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. Details
were no challenge to him, but trying to distill them to others was
much more difficult. “Or rather, you see....” He leaned against the
backrest of the bench and stretched one arm across the top, still
struggling to come up with the right words. “Let’s put it this way.
Your mom hired me. But I’m not working for your mom to make money.
I’m not even working for her just so she can get you back. I don’t
–” Shad caught himself. He was about to say “I don’t care about
your mom,” and this was the wrong level to make that statement. He
leaned forward again. “The only reason I decided to work for your
mom was because she convinced me it was in
your
best
interest to bring you back home. I don’t care –” Shad took a couple
of seconds to reconsider his words before proceeding with them. “–
So much about what your mom wants or what your dad wants. What
matters more to me is what you want.” He clasped his hands together
in front of his knees. “Did any of that make sense?”

She studied him for enough seconds that Shad
started to wonder how he was going to manage trying to rephrase
that babble into something more comprehensible.

“I want Mom and Dad back,” Charissa finally
said. “Together.”

Shad looked down at his hands and blew out an
exhale. “You and a million other kids.” He looked at her again,
managing to bring his gaze as high as her nose. “I can’t do that. I
can’t make them get back together. So I have to come up with the
next best thing for you.”

Charissa lowered her gaze again. “If Mom
wasn’t dying, they’d be together.”

When Monica Simms first approached Shad about
getting Charissa back, he was initially interested in her situation
for two reasons. First, it reminded him of the story about Pap’s
great-great grandfather. When the potato famine of the 1840’s
struck Ireland, Quaid Delaney’s father abandoned the family because
he couldn’t bear to watch them starve to death. For the rest of his
life Quaid despised his father for this penultimate act of
cowardice. He was so outspoken about his opinion that to this day
getting called
coward
by a Delaney was equivalent to be
being called something rather excremental by anybody else. If
Demetri Simms could walk away from his wife and take their child
because he didn’t want them to watch her die, Shad initially
believed he might have the same color of belly as Quaid’s
father.

The other reason was simply because there
could be a child’s welfare at stake, which was very much of the
foundation for why Shad had accepted the ludicrous idea of becoming
an attorney. At first he didn’t see much hope for Monica’s goal.
The couple was still legally married and Demetri didn’t have any
kind of criminal record, so Shad had little grounds to initiate a
custody battle.