The Child Comes First (22 page)

“You don't have to wear it if you don't want to,” she rushed to say. “It was my grandmother's. The best I could do on short notice. I had to go home to get it. But then I came straight here—because we don't really have time to waste. And I would wear it for you, if you want. It just happens to be my size. But, well, I guess you have to say yes first.”

She looked up at him with huge, bright eyes, waiting to see what he would say. Her chin trembled ever so slightly, telling him just how much this beautiful drama cost her emotionally. Glancing at his mother and longed-for daughter, he saw they were completely stunned, frozen in their places with matching expressions of wonderment.

He looked back to the woman kneeling before him and smiled broadly, his heart filled with love instead of the dread that had overtaken it before. “I would be honored to be your husband, Jayda,” he said. “I love you so much.”

She launched herself into his arms, knocking him into the depths of the seat—a recliner that tipped backward so that he lay flat on his back with his new fiancée sprawled across him in an extremely intimate manner. She was kissing him all over his face, and he had to grasp her head to keep her still long enough to plant a real kiss upon her lips.

“Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?” he heard Tiffany whisper to his mother.

“Whatever gets the job done,” his mom replied. “Now, let's leave them to a few minutes of privacy,” she suggested.

But Jayda was off Simon and on her feet before anyone could vacate the premises. “No!” she said. “We need to get back to the courthouse.”

“Is the jury in already? How could you find that out before…”

“No, no, nothing about the jury. But we need to get married now, today. That way, the adoption papers can be changed to reflect both of us as parents and Marla will fasttrack them to signature.”

“You should wait until after the verdict,” Tiffany said calmly.

Simon had gotten to his feet, too, so that he and Jayda stood side by side. They both looked down at Tiffany, and in unison, they said, “No, we shouldn't.”

All of them laughed. Ah, the human spirit, ready to laugh in the face of possible doom. It made no sense but it didn't have to. Still, he had to be at least a little bit practical about rushing to the courthouse.

“We'll go first thing in the morning,” he assured them. Pointing to the clock on the mantel, he added, “It's too late to get a marriage license and persuade the clerk to marry us now, anyway.”

“Are they really getting married?” Tiffany asked Barbara with excitement in her voice.

“It looks that way.”

Tiffany ran to him, and he swooped her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she said to him. “I knew you'd make it happen.”

“Don't thank me. Jayda was the one who proposed.” He set Tiffany down and she went to Jayda, looked up at her with happiness dancing in her eyes.

“That must have been hard for you to do, backward that way. Thank you for wanting me to be your daughter.”

“Maybe I should have asked if you'd have me for your mother beforehand. I'm sorry I didn't even think of that,” Jayda said.

“That's okay,” the girl said. And she hugged Jayda hard.

“Let's go get ready for bed,” Barbara suggested to Tiffany, eyeing Simon and Jayda as if they'd both lost their minds, but with a glint of humor, too. She ushered her foster child up the stairs.

Jayda tipped her face up to Simon. “You won't change your mind, will you?”

He leaned down and whispered into her ear so that only she could hear him. “Why don't you stay the night and make certain I don't.”

She laughed. “I will.”

He smiled back. “I know.”

T
HE JURY CONTINUED TO
deliberate while Jayda and Simon applied for their marriage license. It continued to deliberate while they waited the required two days before standing in front of the clerk of the court to exchange vows. Barbara and Tiffany were there beside them. Marla had also come, eager to get copies of the documentation so she could push through the adoption.

The bride wore a pretty blue dress with a demure hem that went to mid-calf. She didn't wear any cosmetics and she didn't need them. Simon thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

He'd confessed to her earlier that he'd already set his heart on marrying her, but he'd worried she'd think he only wanted her to secure the adoption. She'd responded that Tiffany was a good reason to get married and the only excuse his mother would have accepted for not having an elaborate wedding. Their ceremony lasted less than ten minutes.

As Simon kissed his bride with all the tenderness and passion he planned to bring into their long marriage, his phone rang. It was a special ring tone that meant Denise was calling. She'd missed the wedding so she could stand by for news of the jury, and she wouldn't have called him on his wedding day if she didn't have news.

“Yes,” he said into the phone.

“The jury is ready to return a verdict,” Denise told him.

“We're on our way.” He closed his phone and looked at the faces around him, all tense and expectant. “The jury has reached a decision,” he said, trying hard not to let them hear the emotion that gripped his insides in a stranglehold.

“Let's go,” Jayda said. She seemed calm, sure.

“Congratulations,” Marla said. “I'll get copies of the documents and see how much clout I really have in my agency regarding this adoption. Call me as soon as you know something.”

They thanked the clerk and filed out. They had to drive to a different building to get to the courtroom they'd been in all through the trial. It seemed an odd drive to be making on the heels of a wedding. Jayda sat silently, stoically, beside Simon as he maneuvered through traffic. Tiffany and his mother were in the backseat, equally quiet. Simon couldn't think of anything to say, either.

As they took their places at the defense table, Jayda took Tiffany's hand in hers. “I went to see my mother last week. It seems like months ago. She and I hadn't seen each other in a long time. While I was walking to her house and right up to the minute she opened her door, time seemed to do strange things. Slowing down and speeding up randomly. This is kind of like that, too.” She gently squeezed Tiffany's fingers. “We want this to be over with, but at the same time we're all so scared we don't want the moment to arrive.”

Tiffany nodded, her eyes larger than Simon had ever seen them. She looked as terrified as he felt. But then he had to give his attention to the court proceedings as the bailiff called for them to all rise. The judge took his place and the members of the jury filed in.

“Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge Becker asked.

“Yes, Your Honor, it has.”

“Will the defendant please rise,” the judge said to Tiffany. Simon stood up with her, and without thinking it through, he put his arm across her narrow shoulders. He got as much comfort from the physical contact as he meant to give. But his heart continued to pound violently under his ribs.

“What has the jury decided?” the judge asked.

“Not guilty, Your Honor.”

Silence whistled through the room for a moment. Every soul there seemed to have suspended breathing. Then all at once, Simon found himself laughing amid cheers and whistles and general chaos throughout the court. Even the bailiff wore a smile.

Robert McGuire marched to the defense table and put his hand out to Simon. “I did the best I could to get the conviction my boss wanted. But in the end, this feels like the right conclusion.”

“Thank you,” Simon said, shaking the man's hand. “I hope you can find and prosecute Derek's real killer.”

“I'm working on that,” said the younger attorney. “I'll ensure the police go after Joe Martin Baldridge. He's a person of interest now, if not an outright suspect.” He gave Simon a nod and walked away.

“Is it over?” Tiffany asked in a barely audible voice.

“Yes, it's over,” he said to her. “You're free!”

She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. A tear slipped from one eye, and then the other. She sniffed and tried for a smile, but instead she began to sob. All the emotion she'd done so well to contain came pouring out of her. Simon lifted her up into his arms and held her close as if she were five years old instead of eleven. In another moment, Jayda and Barbara joined them, each wrapping their arms around the pair.

He didn't realize he'd been crying, too, until he lifted his face away from Tiffany's hair. He thought about pretending the dampness on his cheeks was from Tiffany, but then he decided against it. His days of pretending to be cool and controlled and in complete command of his world were over.

At least in front of his family.

 

“W
HY CAN'T
I
BE HOMESCHOOLED
?” Tiffany asked again from the backseat of the minivan Jayda had gotten to replace the Mini Cooper.

“We've been over this a hundred times,” Jayda said as she stood by the sliding door while her new daughter climbed out onto the sidewalk in front of her school. “Howard County has some of the best public schools in the nation. You'll like it. And you need to be with kids your own age.”

“I prefer adults,” she said, not for the first time. Yet for all her bravado, she was clearly terrified.

“And the adults in your life prefer you, too,” said Simon, who stood beside them. “But you still have to go to school.”

“But I could come to your office and you could teach me in between clients,” she insisted.

He put his hand gently on her shoulder. “The thing about negotiating, my young apprentice, is that you need to recognize when you've achieved the best deal you're going to get. I agreed you could come help at the office on Saturdays. But you're still going to go to school.”

She sighed in defeat. “I had to take one last shot. I figured you might be feeling particularly vulnerable, seeing your first kid go off to school, and maybe you'd relent.”

He smiled at her. “Not a chance.”

“Okay. Well, I'll see you when school's over.” And with that, she marched toward the entrance and only looked back at them one time.

She disappeared into the flow of students entering the school, but Simon and Jayda stayed on the sidewalk an extra moment. “Is being a parent always going to be this hard?” he asked his wife.

“Psh. You're asking me?” She realized she'd spoken in the tone of her own mother, and that freaked her even more than seeing Tiffany off for her first day integrating with suburban kids. “I've never been a parent, either,” she added. “Your mom says it could get worse. God help us.”

“She also says it's the best job there is. I think we'll be okay.”

“You want me to take you home so you can get your own car or should I drop you at your office?”

“Take me to the office. Denise can bring me home later.”

“Don't work too late,” she said as she got back into the van.

From the passenger seat, Simon reached across and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Those days are over, Jayda. You and Tiffany are my life now.”

Jayda smiled and pulled away from the curb. “I love you, too,” she said.