She’s sobbing.
“Liddy? What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, waving me off.
I start to panic. I ought to call Reid. I ought to call 911.
“I’m fine, Max,” she chokes. “Honestly.”
“You’recrying!”
She looks up at me. Her eyes are the color of sea glass, the kind you find on the beach and keep in your pocket. “Because I’m happy. You’ve made me so unbelievably happy.”
It doesn’t make sense to me, but neither does the way I feel when she leans against me for a second. She gives me a quick hug and then moves back to the pie, rolling the pastry dough as if the world has not just shifted on its axis.
Ben Benjamin has little round glasses and a mouth pursed like a funnel. He’s sitting across from me in the church office conference room writing down everything I say, as if there’s going to be a quiz later. “How did you divide your assets?” he asks.
“We just kind of split everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Zoe took the musical instruments, and I took my landscaping equipment. We said we’d each take care of our own debt. We didn’t have a house or anything.”
“Did you address the issue of the embryos in your final judgment?”
“Well, no. It wasn’t like they were property.”
Wade leans forward, hands clasped. “Of course not. They’repeople.”
Ben makes a note on his pad. “So while you were representing yourselves during the divorce, the two of you just made an honest mistake. You forgot to talk about those little . . . people . . . in their frozen time capsules during the divorce decree. Right?”
“I guess so,” I say.
“No, youknowso,” Ben corrects. “Because that’s how we’re going to open this up. You didn’t realize this needed to be addressed during the divorce, so we bring it back to family court again by filing an action.”
“What if Zoe files one first?” I ask.
“Believe me,” Wade says, “the clinic isn’t going to make a single move without having consent from both of you—or a court order. In fact, I’m going to give counsel for the clinic a call just to make sure of it.”
“But even if we go to court, won’t the judge think I’m scum for wanting to give my babies away? I mean, Zoe wants them for herself.”
“That’s a compelling argument,” Ben agrees, “except you both have an equal biological claim to the embryos—”
“Pre-born children,” Wade interrupts.
Ben glances up. “Right. The children. You have just as much right to say what happens to them as your ex-wife does. Even if you wanted to have them destroyed—”
“Which he doesn’t,” Pastor Clive says.
“No, but if you did, the court would have to consider your legal right to do so.”
“The court cares aboutthe best interests of the children,”Wade adds. “You’ve heard that term. And the choices here are a traditional Christian family or a unit that doesn’t even come close to approximating that definition.”
“We’ll have your brother and sister-in-law testify. They’re going to be a very central part of this trial,” Ben says.
I run my thumbnail along a groove in the table. Last night, Liddy and Reid had been online looking up baby names.Joshua’s nice,Reid had said, and Liddy had said maybeMason.
Too trendy,Reid had said.
