Tyler watched the unusual dynamic between the two friends and wished he had something similar to their easy friendship in his life. People he could count on no matter what. He’d never had a close male friend growing up; the guys in his small town were jocks for the most part and ignored him. The majority of his time was spent trying to find hidden-away places so he could practice his dance. Amber had always had boyfriends, and now, in hindsight, he wished he’d paid more attention to her life.
When Marcus put his arms around him in the next moment to hold him close, Tyler smiled into the curve of his neck, inhaling his warm scent—the scent he now couldn’t fall asleep without—and realized he did have that, right here in his arms.
“Thank you.”
“What’s wrong? Your face…you looked so sad for a moment. Like everything was lost.”
“No.” He kissed Marcus’s cheek. “I think I’ve finally found everything I need, right here.”
Zach gave him a slow nod and a smile. Tyler knew Zach would understand without him having to explain.
Family Court was the single most intimidating place Tyler had ever set foot in; lawyers rushed by with files piled under their arms, families stood about looking as bewildered as he felt, bickering couples obviously in the throes of nasty custody disputes spat angry, hateful words at each other. The institutional gray hallways, flanked with anonymous doorways marked CourtroomA,B, orC, leading to who knows where, had his heart beating so fast, his vision blurred. What if at the end of the hearing the judge decided he wasn’t the best guardian for Lillie, and that a two-parent family with a mother and a father were the better choice?
He couldn’t imagine life without her anymore.
Josh beckoned him. “Come. It’s time to go in.”
Marcus came in with him, and Tyler hadn’t noticed he’d taken his hand until Marcus squeezed it tight.
“Breathe. You’re her uncle, her only living relative. Why wouldn’t they pick you?”
Because life never turns out the way it should. Good things didn’t happen to people like him; aside from Marcus, nothing in his life had ever worked out the way it should have or how he’d planned.
He stood behind the long pitted wooden table with Josh and all their documentation spread out before them; Lillie’s birth certificate and his, all her medical records, her school reports from her teachers indicating her positive interactions with the other children.
In addition, Micah Steinberg wrote a letter detailing how close his children and Lillie had become, as well as in his professional medical opinion, what a well-adjusted, happy child Lillie was, and the stable home life she now had with Tyler and Marcus.
Tyler’s heart fell at the sight of the judge as he stepped up to the bench. An elderly, gray-haired man, Judge Ira Fleischman radiated conservative disapproval to Tyler. He placed his bifocals on his nose and read through the various reports filed by the state-appointed case-worker, occasionally peering over the top of the sheaf of papers to gaze at Tyler with a frown.
“He hates me; I can tell,” said Tyler with a sinking heart. “Look how he’s staring at me.”
“You’re acting crazy; stop it,” said Marcus from behind him in the front row of seats.
“Tell me what this is about. We have the case of a four-year-old girl here, I believe?” The judge pinned the social worker with a dark, unreadable gaze.
Vera Ingersoll, the social worker who’d worked tirelessly with him, cleared her throat and began to speak.
“Your Honor. Lillie Reiss is a four-year-old female whose mother is deceased. We have no record of her paternity.”
“The mother didn’t name the father on the birth certificate?” The judge rifled through the papers on his desk, picked up one and perused it. “Yes, I see. Continue.”
“The child and her mother came to New York City approximately two years ago and began living with the child’s maternal uncle, Mr. Tyler Reiss. Upon the mother abandoning the child, Mr. Reiss assumed full care of her, and she’s been living with him ever since. She attends preschool in Manhattan, and when Mr. Reiss is at work, she has a full-time babysitter.”
The judge shifted his attention to Tyler, and Tyler lifted his chin and met the intimidating stare full on. He wasn’t going to go down without fighting.
“Mr. Reiss. Tell me a little about yourself.”
He glanced over at Josh, who gave him a subtle nod.
“Um, Your Honor, I’m thirty-three years old and have lived in New York City for over five years. I trained to be a professional dancer and recently signed a lease to open my own children’s dance studio here in the city.” He licked his dry lips and swallowed. “I teach dance to children at different schools throughout the city right now.”
“I see.” The judge made some notes and continued to read through the paperwork.
Tyler relaxed; perhaps this would be easier than he’d suspected.
“Were you planning on telling me about your career as a male stripper, or did you intend to hide that from the court, hoping we wouldn’t discover it?” Leaning back in his chair, the judge frowned.
Tyler winced and heard Marcus’s muttered “Fuck” behind him. Gathering his wits, he willed his shaking voice to settle before speaking.
