“When we get home he’s probably going to donate money to, like, fish lovers international or something.”
I burst out laughing, clapping a hand to my mouth when the sound echoes too loud in the room. My body is so hot right now, I’m tempted to throw myself in with the dolphins. Parker laughs, pulling his hand from the water and shaking it out before wiping it down his jeans.
“You aresored,” he repeats. Wrinkling his nose, he peers down at his hand. “I smell like fish.”
“There’s some hand sanitizer over there.” I follow him over to the stand watching as he douses himself and rubs it all the way up his arms. Desmond joins us. I peek over his shoulder to see the poor aquarium employee beating a hasty retreat.
“Ready to burn this place to the ground?” Parker askshim. I tip my head back and stare into the ceiling lights, trying not to laugh.
“Don’t joke about arson,” Desmond says sternly, as we leave the hands-on exhibit. I smile when he adds under his breath, “But, yes.”
The day doesn’t end with matching shirts purchased at the gift shop, although Parker does make a well-aimed barb about the fact that us buying something would put more money in the aquarium’s pocket. He grins happily when this earns him a glare from his uncle.
“What shall we have for dinner?” Desmond asks as we climb into the car.
“Seafood,” I answer immediately, voice quiet but nonetheless loud enough for both of them to hear. Parker whoops with laughter, and holds his hand between the front seats for a low five.
“Good one,” he compliments, while Desmond looks between us, expression torn between amused and tender.
“Take-the-piss-out-of-Desmond day, I see how it is,” he complains, with no heat behind the words.
“That’s every day,” Parker tells him. “You make it so easy. And now Jack and I can double-team you. You won’t stand a chance.”
Desmond puts a hand against his chest and shakes his head, pretending to be wounded. Every time I look over on our drive home, though, he’s got a smile on his face and the car is filled with the content, happy warmth of a day well spent with people you love.
24
Desmond
William Jost hasn’t once lookedup from his phone as we wait to be called for our hearing. Nervously, I bounce my knee up and down, tugging restlessly at the cuffs of my shirt. We’re early, which is both a good thing and a special form of torture. Now, I’m just sitting here thinking about everything that could go wrong, sweating through my suit, and wishing like hell I’d taken Jack up on his offer to come along.
Family court cases are public, so he’d have been allowed to sit in the audience. More importantly, he’d have been able to sit next to me right now as we wait. He’d have been a hell of a lot more use than my bloody lawyer, who’s about as comforting as a marble statue.
Jack had asked if he should be here, but I’d told him not to come. That would have meant him missing his classes to do what? Listen as my parents’ lawyer tries and convince a judge of how terrible of a person and parent I am? No. It’s better I suffer here alone than do this with Jack sitting in theroom, face flushed with embarrassment as he watches me get eviscerated by my own family. Because that’s likely what’s going to happen, seeing as my mother has never made it a secret, all the things she hates about me. She’s going to be giddy, having the opportunity to tell not only a judge, but any members of the public who have decided that this is what they want to do with their free time today.
“Parker is at school?” William Jost asks, startling me so much that I jump a little bit. It’s the first he’s spoken in twenty minutes.
“Yeah. I thought we’d be done by the time he’s finished, but I have a backup just in case.” My voice sounds strange, and the words feel as though I had to force them out of a throat not made for talking. I tug on my tie, wishing someone would turn down the air-conditioning, or maybe set a fan up in front of me.
“We’ll be finished,” he replies crisply, completely unbothered.
“Is there a vending machine around here?” I ask, glancing around. There’s a strong possibility I’ll throw up if I put anything in my stomach right now, but there’s an even stronger possibility that I’m about to faint. “I need some water.”
“You’ll have to wait,” William Jost says, standing up; tucking his phone away and buttoning the front of his suit. “We’re up.”
I stand on shaky knees as the bailiff approaches. My stomach sloshes dangerously, like I’m standing on the deck of a boat in the middle of the ocean during a hurricane. Honestly, I’d rather be on that boat than here. As I trail my lawyer into the courtroom, I think once more of Jack. God, how I wish I hadn’t convinced him not to come.
Our judge is a tiny, gray-haired woman, who peers over her glasses at us and somehow manages to make me feel guilty. Guilty for what, I don’t even know, but I can see how she’s been successful in this position, with that weaponized stare in her repertoire. She further endears herself to me when my parents’ lawyer tries to talk, and she cuts him off with a sharp, “You will follow the rules of this court, Mr. Goldman, and will speak when it’s your turn.”
I hadn’t been totally sure what to expect, but I definitely hadn’t expected a twenty-minute hearing. It feels like we’ve only just sat down when the judge is closing the file in front of her and awarding me full custody of Parker.
Shocked by how quickly the entire thing moved, I sit in silence as Mum’s lawyer begins packing up his things, and beside me, William Jost stands up. I stare at his hands as he gathers his papers, vision a little blurred and brain fuzzy with the unreality of the situation. I won, but I can’t seem to muster more than numb exhaustion. Months of worry, stress, and thousands of dollars for a stranger to tell me what my sister and her husband already knew; what I already knew. Months of sleepless nights, lying awake as images of Parker being taken away spun behind my eyes like a film reel. All of that and they hand him over to me in twenty minutes.
My throat is so tight, it’s hard to breathe. The deck is still pitching beneath my feet, and now I feel like I’m going to cry. I miss my sister so fucking much, it feels more solid and real than any other person in this room. I haven’t heard her voice in a while, which adds a touch of panic to my sudden misery. I’m going to forget what she sounded like, one day.
“You coming?” William Jost asks, peering down at me. I’m probably acting strange, but my emotions are a runaway train, and frankly, I am too tired to care what he thinks.
“That’s it?” I ask, voice so dry and croaking it sounds like I’ve been screaming.
