Sweat builds on my forehead, and I wipe it with the back of my hand as I begin the jaunt back home. My runs aren’t miles and minutes long. It’s a quick fifteen-minute mile jog around the areasimply to wake me up and get my blood flowing. I’ll stretch when I get home, blend a breakfast protein smoothie, then get ready to be at the office at eight.
This is the life I live; it’s simplistic, scheduled, and beautiful. And I’m finally basking in getting back to normalcy after a weekend of deceit, too many touches from the male species, and barely staying afloat outside my comfort zone.
“I’ve changed my ways, Attorney Spence. Do you think the judge will see that? Do you think I will get my babies back? Not having them home for Christmas was the darkest moment of my existence, and you know better than anyone at this point that I've had some pretty dark lows…” Ms. Gretta Hanes continues sobbing into the wad of tissues she’s consistently pulled from the beige box situated on the corner of my desk. The image of her sunken, dark eyes and puffy nose tug at my heartstrings. I wish I could give her all the answers, but that’s one rule I can’t break. I can’t promise a client something that may not happen.
“I hear you, Ms. Gretta.” I stand and walk around my desk, sitting next to her in the empty chair. I’ve learned she calms with physical touch, so I take her hands between mine, forcing myself to ignore the bugs crawling under my skin, and look her in the eyes. “You know I can’t promise you results because I am not the judge. But I can promise you that I am doingeverything I possibly can to present the best case for you. I do know you’ve changed, and I do know that you will mother your three children well and with your whole heart. You do not have to convince me, Ms. Gretta. I see your goodness.”
She wails again, yanking her hands from mine and slinging her arms around me in a wet, very personal embrace. Her faded pink hair invades my space, tickling my nose. I let her cry on my shoulder, patting her back gently, trying not to think about the way her touch sends signals in my brain to flee for safety.
But my client comes first, and I know she needs this.
Several moments tick by, my insides crawling and itching to have my big, beautiful bubble of personal space back.
I clear my throat and begin to break the hug once I can no longer mentally withstand the sensations invading me. “Let’s go over your personal statement one more time, okay? Then you can leave the rest of the evidence gathering up to me. We have two weeks before the ruling, so let’s get to work.”
Ms. Gretta remains in my office for another hour and a half as we work on her testimonial for reunification. This case has stolen my time and attention, taking precedence over others. While we process and litigate many family disputes, a myriad of situations tearing families apart, it’s unfortunately rare that we get to work on a case to bring a family back together. CPS makes it nearly impossible for the birth parents at times, even when they’ve shown over a year of hard-fought change.
As a girl who grew up with two loving parents, I’ve never known the pain of separation. But I watched Hadley suffer at the hands of her mother who was drunk and on drugs for most of her life.Thankfully, Hadley was able to grow up under the care of her grandmother, but not all kids are that lucky. Hadley’s mom is sober and clean, and their constant work towards reconciliation is heart-warming to watch.
I want the same for Ms. Gretta and her children. Every child deserves a mom who loves and cares for them. Even if the mother shows up late to the job. Even if the father isn’t in the picture.
Which reminds me…
I should call my mom. She and Dad have been traveling around the United States over the past six months. They both can work from anywhere as Dad is a freelance writer and Mama is in marketing. They finally decided to make the most of that.
She picks up on the first ring. “Hey, Mom. How is the Grand Canyon?”
“Hot.” She laughs, already transitioning the phone call to a video call. Her smooth, tanned face and large brown eyes fill the screen, and then behind her, Dad’s freckled, pale skin and red, curly hair come into view. He smiles broadly and waves, his hazel eyes narrowed as sunlight pours directly over him. It’s not rocket science to figure out who Lucy and I take after the most.
“I might finally tan like your mother in this sun,” Dad says, wrapping his arm around her and gazing adoringly at his wife. My stomach flutters; I’ve always loved watching the two of them interact. There is a depth of love and understanding and respect for each other that I rarely see in couples. I’m holding out for that.
Mom playfully hip checks him. “Oh, Richard. You’d turn into a lobster. Which reminds me, we should apply more sunscreen.”
I pipe up. “Make sure you are using all natural sunscreen if you have to use it. Dad, it’s better for your skin just to wear light, linen layers.”
“You got it, beautiful.” My dad has never been one to shy away from showering the three women in his life with praise and compliments.
“How’s work going, sweetie? Any big plans for the upcoming weekend?” Mom busies herself by applying sunscreen to Dad’s face and exposed neck.
“Work is going well. I have a client that I’m growing a bit attached to, but I think it will help me work hard for her.” I glance at the stack of papers I need to sort through. “As for weekend plans, I think I’m going to catch up with filing.”
Mom frowns as she caps the sunscreen. “No fun plans?”
“You know me, Mom. Work is fun.”
Dad takes the phone from the stand Mom had propped it on. “But there’s so much more to life than your career, Lorelei. Don’t forget to beyou, not just Attorney Spence.”
“Well, I—” I snap my mouth closed, realizing I was about to tell my parents that I went on not one but two dates this past weekend. But I don’t think Lucy has told them about Finley, and once again, I have a secret that’s not quite mine to tell.
“What, honey?” Dad asks.
“Nothing. Lucy has a date tonight, so I’ll watch a documentary or something.”
“Well,” Dad says, and then Mom grabs the phone.
“We know you love those, so do that! Just don’t touch work tonight while you watch the show. Take a break, sweetie.”
I grin at my doting, child-like parents. They amaze me with their bubbly attitude (which Lucy totally inherited. I’m more like Dad’s mom, Grandma Netty.) I know they love me and are looking out for me, so I vow to myself that Iwillwatch a documentary tonight while I have the apartment to myself.
