The Newcomer

Page 22

Author: Robyn Carr


“If your best friend’s boyfriend did to her what was done to you, would you advise her to take him back?”


“Of course not. I know it’s not smart,” Ashley said. “I know I shouldn’t, but it’s just a fact.”


“When you were his steady girl, he never acted like that, did he?”


“Never!”


“And neither did you,” Burt said. “Because you’re a nice person who can think about the feelings of others. Is it possible you want the Downy you once knew to come back? But not the Downy you know now?”


“Yes. Of course, yes.”


“If he came back now, would you worry every time he didn’t take a call or answer a text?”


She looked down. “It’s just that what he did still hurts so much.”


“It does. The pain can feel unbearable and I’m so sorry, Ashley. I say this a lot in our teen groups, but I’ll say it again, anyway. This time in life especially, you’re designed to fall in love. It’s part of your developmental cycle. It’s emotions and hormones and a struggle to create an independent adult life for yourself—one that meets all your needs. Also, this process of falling in and out of love, sometimes very painfully, helps you to identify the kind of life partner you fit with best. Some people never do, I’m sorry to say. Some people will be unsuccessful at relationships with the right people. In fact, some people are inexplicably drawn to people who will hurt them. But others will learn valuable lessons and graduate to positive, long-term relationships with people who won’t let them down or betray them. I’m not saying perfect relationships—I’m afraid there’s no such thing. I’m saying positive, growing, healthy relationships that can get back on track after something derails them.


“It’s very important,” he went on. “It’s a process that’s all about developing maturity and wisdom. And, Ashley, I’m very sorry that it hurts every time it doesn’t go well. Very sorry.”


“And did you do that? Get your heart broken?” she asked, eying his wedding band.


Burt, not a member of the group but a facilitator, didn’t usually answer questions, especially about himself. But he smiled and said, “At least a dozen times.”


She thought he was wonderful. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Then I probably have eleven to go.”


“They won’t always be as dramatic and awful as this was. It depends entirely on the criteria you establish for yourself. I suspect that a few years from now you’ll go out on a date or two and immediately see something in a potential boyfriend that you weren’t able to see at sixteen. And the red flag will wave before your eyes and you’ll say, ‘No thank you. I deserve better than that.’”


“Well, thank you, but I need something today,” she said.


“Who has something to say that might help Ashley today?” Burt asked the group.


“Protect yourself from people who have the habit of being mean,” someone said.


“Take a long break from boyfriends until you get past this and can at least understand it,” said someone else.


“Try to believe the next time will feel better. You don’t have to think this was the first and last time you’ll ever like someone that much.”


She listened to a number of suggestions from her group. And as usual, when she left that afternoon, she felt so much better.


* * *


Mac’s lawyer, Sidney Mikowski, met with him to discuss a call he’d recently had from Cee Jay’s attorney. Briefly, he explained that she wanted to see her children. She wasn’t asking for any custody or support, just a visit. Sidney informed Mac that it would look good for him to be friendly and cooperative, in the event something legal came along down the road. “What she’s asking is reasonable. She doesn’t have a police record or any legal entanglements. It’s just a supervised visit she’s asking for.”


“If she wants visitation, I want child support,” Mac said, feeling surly. “I’ve raised them entirely on my own for ten years. It hasn’t been easy.”


“You signed off on support,” Sidney reminded him. “Let’s be clear—you’re not asking to change the settlement at this time. I would advise that you give her an hour of supervised time with the kids.”


“She signed off on visitation,” he said.


“Mac, reel in that temper. I understand the insult you feel, but her request is logical and rational. It’s also legal—she’s not challenging their custody, just asking for a supervised visit. They’re her children, too.”


“Where would we do this?” he asked, remembering grudgingly that his kids also wanted to see her.


“It doesn’t matter, but I suggest somewhere where you all have privacy, just in case it’s emotional. My office or maybe your home? Oh, and she’s not interested in seeing your aunt. I’m guessing there’s bad blood there?”


Mac laughed. “Oh, you could say that. Cee Jay didn’t just leave me. I had to beg Aunt Lou for help. First I had to tell her that I got my teenage girlfriend pregnant, then I had to ask for her help when Cee Jay left me. Now that Lou is completely bonded with the kids, guess who’s back? Lou might find it hard to be welcoming.”


“Then it’s a good thing she’s cutting Lou out of the visit. What we don’t need, Mac, and what will not cast the most positive and convincing light on your efforts to cooperate is a confrontation. Can you convince Lou to excuse herself for an hour?”


“I suppose I can, but it’ll cost me....”


“Let’s have the meeting in your living room. I’ll be there as I’m sure her lawyer will be, too. Can you engage the services of an off-duty deputy?”


“What for?”


“If you have to invite your ex-wife and her attorney to leave, I’d rather you not play the bad guy. This is a supervised visit, off the books so to speak, to show your willingness to be cooperative and compassionate. I recommend it because your children should see their mother and because, if push comes to shove, you’ve been the responsible party. In custody debates, that goes a long way.”


* * *


The visit was set for Wednesday at six-thirty. Mac came home at five and found Lou dishing out pizza slices. The kids were at the table but even though it was their favorite dinner, they weren’t scarfing it down. Ryan was taking small bites and Eve’s was untouched.


“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he told them. “I’m sure your mother just wants to see you, find out how you’ve been, that sort of thing. I’d like you to have a nice visit. And I’ll be with you.”


“Why do we have to do this in front of people?” Eve asked.


Mac had rejected the idea of a deputy on the scene—two lawyers were more than enough of a crowd. “It’s a legal issue, Eve, there’s just no getting around that. Since your mother’s lawyer will be with her, my lawyer will be present also. That way there shouldn’t be any questions afterward.”


“But Aunt Lou can’t be there, too?” she asked.


“Unfortunately your mother and Aunt Lou don’t exactly get along.”


“It’s better this way,” Lou said. “We’ll avoid any silly disagreements if I’m just not here. It’s okay—you can tell me all about it later.”


“Are you still mad at her?” Ryan wanted to know.


Lou took a breath. “I don’t want to be and I’m not going to act like I’m mad, but I was angry that she left and didn’t call to check on us. I’m working on being forgiving, but I might be too old and mean.... But until I get to the forgiving part, I intend to act like I’ve forgiven her. And hopefully she’ll act the same way toward me. Just not tonight, apparently. Now eat some pizza.” And with that, she took a big bite herself.


“I’m not hungry,” Eve said, leaving the table without permission.


“Eve,” Mac began.


Lou held up her hand. “Let it go. Understandably there’s tension. The pizza will keep.”


Mac had never, in his life, felt an hour and a half stretch interminably. At six he went to his room, showered and put on a fresh shirt. He even splashed a little aftershave on his cheeks. He yelled in the direction of the other bedrooms. “Fifteen minutes, kids.” No one answered. He hoped he wouldn’t have to pry them out of their rooms. He got himself a cup of coffee from the kitchen and went to the living room, where his three children were lined up on the couch. They were looking spit and polished even though they were all still wearing their jeans. And they were sitting very close together, Eve in the middle. “Has Lou left?” he asked.


They nodded in perfect sync and he couldn’t help but laugh at them. “It’s not an execution! It’s your mother, finally come to visit and see how you are. Try to make this a happy occasion. I’m sure she’s not planning to stay long so take this opportunity to ask her anything you’ve wondered about.”


“Why now?” Eve asked.


“Well, honey, she said she’s missed you and wants to make amends,” Mac said. “All you have to do is be polite. Once she’s gone, I’ll warm up that pizza.”


The doorbell rang and all three kids stiffened as if they had heard a gunshot. Mac put down his coffee on the side table. “I’m sure that’s just Sidney, our lawyer.” He opened the door to two beautiful, elegant, richly dressed women. Cee Jay’s attorney was a knockout. She was a blonde, a stark contrast to Cee Jay’s dark hair. But here they were, young and beautiful and sexy, looking as if they came from the same world, as if they belonged to the same tennis and golf club.


The lawyer put out her hand. “How do you do, Mr. McCain. I’m Antoinette LeClair. Please call me Ann.”


He frowned. She looked very familiar. “How do you do. You’re a little early.”


She laughed and looked at her watch. “My apologies. Mrs. McCain was, understandably, very anxious.”


“Do I know you?” he asked, frowning. “Do you practice around here?”


“I’ve been up here a time or two, but my office is in San Francisco.”


He leaned a little closer and spoke quietly. “It’s Deputy McCain. And it’s not ‘Mrs.’ Cecilia Jayne and I have been divorced a long time and the kids haven’t seen their mother in ten years. Don’t be presumptuous.” And he watched as Cee Jay bit her lip and turned teary eyes away. Sadly, he thought about how jaded he was. He just couldn’t give her the benefit of the doubt. He felt sure her emotions were an act.


“Come in,” he said, standing aside.


Ann let Cee Jay enter ahead of her. She stepped into the living room, covered her mouth as tears ran down her cheeks and said, “Oh, my beautiful babies! Oh, my God! Look at you!”


Mac winced visibly. This was going to be so confusing to them—their mother gone for so long and then returning with all that gush!


Cee Jay sat in the chair that Mac usually occupied, his cup of coffee sitting next to her on the side table. Once again, she looked rich...and powerful. She had a large diamond ring on her right hand, a diamond bracelet on her left wrist, diamond stud earrings as big as peas in her ears. And her clothes were chic, no other way to describe her. Elegant. Sitting on the edge of Mac’s old, worn recliner, the contrast couldn’t have been greater. With impressive skill she implored her children, “Tell me everything. I want to hear what you’re doing. I bet you’re so smart in school.”


They were clearly uncomfortable; so stiff and shocked and intimidated. It was a long moment before Ryan said, “I play ball. Baseball.”


“Do you?” she said excitedly, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “Your daddy played ball in high school!”

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