“Yeah.” As I’m about to continue, another call beeps through. I pull my phone away from my ear, nearly dropping it. “Oh—it’s Mr. Notting. Hold on one second.”
My heart lodges in my throat. I really hope this is good news.
Chapter
Fourteen
Leighton
* * *
“Ask him whether he’s a boxers or briefs guy for me.” Callie laughs.
I click over to the other call. “Hi, this is Leighton.”
“Hey, Leighton, Mark Notting here. I’ll get right to it. You know I track my hours, so I don’t want to waste minutes and have your bestie come to my office to tell me off.”
“Aren’t we wasting them now?”
He chuckles, and I’m glad he got my humor. “Fair point. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but someone has come forward and contested you being the guardian.”
All the comfort I felt in getting to connect with my best friend splats against the ground, gasping for air. My mind spins. I know who it is before he has to tell me. If it were Aunt Iris, my mom, or Patrick’s dad, they would’ve had the decency to tell me themselves. It has to be Art and the she-devil.
“It’s Art and his wife, Julianna.” Mr. Notting confirms my worst fear. “So now the process changes. We go to court, and the judge will appoint temporary custody while an investigation is done.”
My stomach lurches and I swallow back bile. “An investigation?”
Does that mean visits from social workers, people looking into my finances? Shit, I have six loads of laundry to do, and I hope the store I bought my vibrator from online has a discreet company name on my credit card statement.
“What does that entail?” I should get specifics before my head travels too far away from my body.
“It means you’d better get your ducks in a row because you’re going to have to prove that you’re the fittest guardian for the dependents.”
All my concerns from the past month flood back like a tsunami of doubt. Every mistake I’ve made with the kids, every moment I got wrong or thought I could’ve done better. The slammed doors from Lake, Monroe throwing fits on the floor, Lincoln and that damn ball… all of my horrible parenting moments rush back.
Hell, maybe they don’t even want me to raise them?
Of course the judge will find me unfit. I’m barely functioning. Julianna can quit her job if she needs to. And if she doesn’t, they’re a two-income family. How can I compete with that? Sky will haunt me if I lose the kids and allow them to be raised by Julianna. She never had anything nice to say about her.
“Okay, listen,” Mr. Notting says, “I can tell your head’s racing. There are a lot of factors to be considered. It’s not just about being married versus single. The parents’ wishes will hold a lot of sway over the judge. Skylar and Patrick left the kids to you—so don’t panic. Nothing about them says they’re better than you.”
I actually find comfort in his little pep talk, and I’m not sure I thought he had it in him, in truth.
“I know you love them, Leighton,” he says, “and we’re going to do everything we can to make sure they remain with you. Court will likely be next week. Be prepared to make it clear that you want the kids.”
“I do,” I say. “I told you I do.”
“I know. Just make sure the judge knows too. Relax and sit tight. I’ll call my colleague, and we’ll get things in motion. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Okay. Thanks for calling.”
“Of course. I’ll be in touch. You’ll need to put down a retainer for your new counsel. If you don’t like my colleague, you can interview whomever you like.”
“Okay. Whatever I have to do.”
“Sit tight. I’ll call soon.”
“Okay. Bye. Thanks.”
