October Snow (43 page)

“Of course.” She stood, reaching for Sam. “Is there anything I can help with?”

She shook her head, giving her mother a quick hug.

“Actually,” Dave said, “there is.”

“Tell me.” She was looking at her daughter, whom she hadn’t seen in weeks because of Jack; and she was falling apart in front of her–again, because of Jack. She felt a rush of an anger that she hadn’t known before, and it felt right. It felt like power.

He waited until she looked at him, and then he said, “You can help us by having absolutely nothing to do with Jack, for any reason, period.”

“That will be no problem at all.”

Dave thought it strange, that he believed her. “Thank you.”

Sam hadn’t spoken since they drove away from Liz’s house.

“Sammy, say something.”

She was sullen, staring out the window, the options–or lack of them–circling in her head. The beauty of the perfect late-spring day streamed past, totally lost on her.

Her head was starting to ache. She put her hand to her stomach, thinking about Tyler, about the family he had now. Her little boy’s dreams had come true. She remembered him crying in the restaurant, terrified that she would leave again; then, she saw his beautiful little face, so exactly like Dave’s, leaning toward her, his gentle hand touching her cheek. The joy in his eyes. Now, Jack had a permanent hold on her–and through her, Dave and Tyler, too–because of the baby.

“Samantha.”

She reached into her purse for her sunglasses, and her hand closed around the laminated picture of the three of them. Her breath caught as she held it; then she turned to Dave. “Take me to the beach house.”

“What? No - we need to talk.”

“We will. I just need a couple of days.” She put her hand on his leg. “Please, Dave. I need to see the girls.”

He glanced over at her, then took her hand. “Okay.” He wasn’t going to be so pliant this time around, though. There had to be compromise. “But we need you at home. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Just tell Tyler something…I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll be fine.”

She was texting Jo.

I’m coming up to be with you guys for a while

“Letting the girls know?”

She nodded. “Thanks for this.”

“How are you feeling?” He noticed her hand on her stomach again.

“Baby’s fine.”

“What about you?”

“Okay. Just a headache.” She wanted, more than anything, to get to the lake.

Her phone beeped.

What’s going on?

“What do I tell her? She wants to know why I’m coming up.”

“Just tell her the truth.”

She turned her phone so Dave couldn’t see it.

Jack knows and I want to abort

Jo’s response came immediately:

We’ll deal with it

At the house, Jo was staring at her phone, her mind racing.

“We will
so
deal with it, Samantha Delaney.” Her adrenaline was flaring, and she sent another text.

When will you be here?

About an hour

Jo thought for a minute.

Better hurry it’s getting late

Puzzled by the strange comment, Sam answered:

Okay

Have you seen a doctor yet?

No

I’ll take you. It’s the right thing to do

Sam frowned as she closed her phone. “Jo seems a bit off.”

“It’s a shock, I’m sure.” It occurred to him that Jo didn’t rattle easily.

“I suppose.”

“You’re sure about this? Going to the lake?”

“I’m…Yes.”

He nodded, his entire body gripping with a sickening mixture of rage and fear. He reached for her hand. “We’ll get through this, babe. I promise.”

She didn’t answer, and Dave suddenly wrenched the wheel to the right, turning onto a narrow side street and pulling over at a small parking area there.

He stared straight ahead. “I can’t do it this way, Sammy. I can’t have this sitting between us, and then leave you in the middle of nowhere and go back to Boston without you.”

She touched his shoulder, and he turned to her then, his eyes unreadable. Sam knew that he wanted to fix it right now: he was a man of decisiveness, and of quick action, and she knew that he was barely holding himself together. And that he was doing so for her sake, for the sake of his family.

Then as she looked into his eyes, and they shifted slightly, she saw the fear. She cupped his cheek, and he kissed her palm.

“Sammy…”

“I know.”

“We aren’t coming apart.” He was searching her eyes. It was as much a question as it was a statement.

“
No
. We’re not.” She leaned into his kiss. “I made a commitment, remember?”

“Don’t shut me out. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“We’ll see about that.” He tried to smile. “I’ve got a lifetime to prove you wrong.”

“Go for it,” she whispered, kissing him again.

Max stared in disbelief at Sam’s text. “No way will she abort.”

Jo watched the clouds thickening over the lake. She wrapped her gray hooded sweatshirt tightly around her as the wind picked up, thinking about going back inside.

“No way.” Max was shaken, though. She slid the phone across the table to her.

“I know.” She lit a cigarette. “It’s all going to be fine.”

“Why would she even consider it?” She stood, not waiting for an answer. “Want a beer?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

A minute later, Max handed her a glass of white wine. “We’re all out, but we still have a ton of wine left from the wedding.” She leaned against the railing of the deck, facing Jo. “Why would she even
consider
an abortion?” she asked again.

“Because Jack will get at least half custody. That means she can either leave her baby alone with a psycho, or go back to him to protect the baby, God help her–and what do you think
that
will do to Tyler?”

Max snorted. “He makes death threats and head-butts cops. He won’t…”

“Doesn’t matter, Maxine.” Jo’s expression was weary, almost hopeless.

She didn’t want to believe it: Jo could see that she would fight it. “No decent judge will leave an infant alone with him. Not when Dave and Sam have a perfectly stable home.”

Jo understood that she needed to believe that for the moment, so she didn’t respond.

“Right?” Max persisted. “Of course not. That would be insane.”

“True enough.”

Max decided it was Jo’s composure that was so irritating to her. “What are you thinking?” she demanded.

“That you’re wrong.”

The simple statement had the effect Jo intended: to get Max to drop the things that kept her safe from the reality of the situation.

She ducked her head, trying to think of a defense. Finally, she asked, “What’s going to happen here?”

“Well…”

“And do me a favor. Don’t go clinical on me.”

She looked surprised. “I didn’t know I do that.”

“You do.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best.” She took a long drink, gathering her thoughts. “Jack found out somehow, and he may already have a lawyer. I’d bet on it.”

Max nodded. “How’d he find
out
?” she moaned.

“No time for that now. The point is, he did. So the lawyer gives him the rundown: petition the court for paternity testing, which–when it comes back with Jack as the sperm donor–establishes his parental rights. From there, he’ll most likely go for a full-custody order.”

“He won’t want full custody.”

“He won’t want the
baby
, you’re right. But in getting more than fifty percent, Sammy will be paying
him
support.”

Max’s face twisted into a sarcastic scowl. “He’d love that.”

“That’s not the worst of it. He’ll have a permanent link to Sammy, and he’ll use that baby to torment her.”

“Like she said at the apartment that day.”

Jo nodded. “And before you ask, no, the courts won’t protect the baby. Not usually. If he hurts it, and Sammy raises issues of child abuse, she runs a decent chance of losing custody, period.” She drained her glass, and Max took it from her.

“Be back with the bottle,” she said.

When she returned, she asked, “Do you think Sammy’s aware of this stuff?”

“Probably not all of it, no. But she has a beat on Jack, and that’s plenty scary enough.”

“Dave probably knows.”

“Probably. He talked to Will about it.”

“Bottom-line me.”

She sighed. “Jack has a permanent pass into Sammy’s life now, with lots of power and very few limits.”

They heard Dave’s car in the driveway at the front. Jo put her glass on the table, reaching for the bottle. After chugging as much as she could take in, she handed it to Max. “Here. You’re going to need some reinforcement today.” She clapped her on the shoulder as she went into the house.

This can’t be
, Max thought. She caught herself looking around helplessly, and she wondered what on earth she was looking for.

Someone to come riding in on a white horse
. It was a familiar feeling, as was the hopelessness she felt after. She went into the kitchen, putting the wine in the refrigerator before she followed Jo out front.

Dave was almost back in Boston when his phone rang.

“Will? I’m driving, so make it fast.”

“Melissa Parton signed on today, so we have our new associate.”

“Excellent. I’ll stop by the office on my way home.”

“I have something you need to know, from a conversation that I didn’t have with her, okay?”

“Got it.”

“After she finished the paperwork, she mentioned again being grateful to get out of Mickey Demares’ practice. I asked her why, what the last straw was for her–you remember, she said in that final interview that fast-tracking her departure there was a priority for her.”

“Yeah.”

“Demares is legend in father’s rights circles, and he’s representing a guy who spent a few years in a faux-marriage with a woman who’s now pregnant, but wants nothing to do with him.” He could picture Dave cringing. “Demares suspects that she went back to her old boyfriend, because they have a kid together.” He paused. “Melissa has all the info, because she was second on the case.”

Dave’s skin felt prickly. “What else did she say?”

“I’ll be straight-up with you, Dave.”

“Do that.”

“He plans on going after Sammy as soon as the baby comes. He’s going for the test, then full custody, support–and he’s going to make her sound like an abusive…The word he’s using is ‘slut’.” He hurried to continue before Dave could react. “He had Car-boy join a DV support group, just to sweeten his case.”

He came within inches of rear-ending the car in front of him. “I’m pulling over.”

“Good idea. Dave, the slur is
not
what you need to deal with right now.”

“No, I’ll be dealing with that later.” He threw the car into park, laying his head back against the headrest. “That prick had better not come near us, Will. I swear, I’ll kill him.”

Will let him vent for a few moments, then said, “I’ll be waiting here. How long?”

“Fifteen minutes.” He looked at the empty seat to his right, and felt more lonely than he could remember being. He didn’t agree with Sam’s decision to spend a day at the lake, and he regretted taking her back up there.

He walked into his office ten minutes later. The receptionist, a small, elderly Italian woman who had been with him since the beginning, smiled up at him. “David, congratulations. I heard about the wedding.”

“Thanks, Gina.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “It was a quick decision. We’ll have you over for dinner soon.”

“Wonderful.”

“You all set for the day?”

“Almost.”

“Finish up, then go ahead and take off.”

“Tell me all about it tomorrow?”

“You bet.” He went straight to Will’s office.

“Let’s sit down.” Will handed him a scotch on the rocks. “Here. A bracer.”

Dave nodded his thanks, downing half of it as he sank into Will’s leather chair. “Give me a minute.” He swiveled the chair to look out the picture window, watching the people on the street. He allowed himself a moment of envy that they were safely removed, blissfully ignorant of the hell that the psycho and his lawyer were planning for Samantha and the baby.

He turned to face Will. “Okay, what now?”

Will asked several questions, but the issue which concerned him the most was his worry that Sam could be accused of trying to hide the baby from Jack. “You get the wrong judge, one with an ax to grind, and he’ll sharpen it right on Sammy,” he said. “They can’t talk to
you
now, but that does bring Josie and Maxine into it. They’re the best witnesses he’s got. How much do they know?”

Dave managed a wry smile. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does, Dave. She was staying with them. They can be called to testify, and believe me, Demares will subpoena them.”

“Jo’s been logged in as a DV advocate for the past few weeks.”

A smile broke slowly across Will’s face. “Sammy and Maxine are her clients?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s certified? Has confidentiality standing?”

“The whole nine yards.”

“God bless the woman.” He sat back, rubbing the stubble under his chin. “At least we have that.”