"Mr. Kessler, this is my neighbor, the one I've been telling you about." Olivia is polite enough, offering me the armchair as she takes a seat by the lawyer.
"Mr. Ward, have a seat," he says, gesturing. Olivia must've already told him about the work I'm doing to help her get out of this mess she's in.
I open the folder on the coffee table and lay the pages out. David picks up the first page and leans back, reading while Olivia watches his face. He flips to the phone records and traces the highlighted numbers with his pen, making a note in the margin before moving to the wire transfer. He reads it twice, sets it down, and looks at me.
"This changes things considerably." He glances at Olivia, then back at me. "The phone records give us traction on their own, but a sealed complaint showing he's done this to another mother turns his entire filing into a pattern."
Olivia leans forward. "So we can beat this?"
"We can, but not in three weeks." David makes a note on his pad. "I want to file for a continuance and push the hearing past the Fourth of July. That gives me time to authenticate everything, subpoena Mrs. Finch, and petition the judge to review the sealed complaint."
"What about Ethan?" Olivia asks, and I hear the tightness in her throat.
"He stays with you. Nothing changes until a judge says otherwise." David caps his pen. "I know waiting feels impossible, but going in unprepared would cost us more than the delay."
Olivia rubs her temples and nods.
"What else can I do?" I ask, eager to keep fighting this thing. I'm not foolish enough to think Derek is going to back off. I have to keep the pressure on or he'll just end up walking all over her.
"Let me know if your friends find anything else, but don’t break any laws in the process." Mr. Kessler stands and straightens his tie, offering me his hand. "Thank you for putting these things together, Mr. Ward."
I take his hand, saying, "It's Caleb… and you're welcome."
We're going to beat this, and finally, Olivia is accepting that there are people in her corner and she doesn't have to do this alone.
Now to finish this thing so Derek will never mess with her again.
23
OLIVIA
The woman at the counter holds up two blouses and tilts her head, going back and forth between them. It's almost closing time but she's going to be here for a while. I smile at her and lean against the register, giving her all the time she needs even though my feet ache and my back has been screaming at me since lunch.
"The blue one's gorgeous on anyone," I tell her, pointing to the one in her right hand, "but the green would really pop with your complexion. You honestly can't go wrong with either."
She holds the green one up under her chin and looks in the mirror near the display. "You think so? I never wear green."
"That's exactly why you should. Sometimes, the things we never try end up being the best fit."
She smiles at that and sets the blue one down. "Okay… the green. You talked me into it."
I ring her up, fold the blouse into tissue paper, and slide it into one of our bags while we chat about a party she's dressing for.My phone vibrates and I ignore it as I hand her the bag and thank her. She walks out looking pleased with herself, and the store is blessedly empty when she leaves.
My day is over, and Ethan is at home with the sitter waiting on me. After the threats and pressure from Derek, I'm eager to get home and be with my boy. But my phone chirps. I pull it out and read the screen to see something that makes my stomach churn. The text is from Derek.
Derek: 5:12 PM: I heard you and the neighbor are getting close. Hope he doesn't find out what kind of mother you really are.
It makes me so angry that he's still doing this crap when he knows he's going to lose. He's just trying to rattle me. That's all this is. He knows about Caleb and he wants me spinning and second-guessing everything so I walk into that courtroom already defeated. I know what he's doing and it shouldn't work on me anymore. The problem is, it does. My hands shake as I lock the phone and slide it back into my pocket.
I busy myself running through Helen's end-of-day checklist, and by the time I flip the sign to closed and lock the front door, I'm starting to feel better.
That's one good thing about training myself to always stay positive. It means I can reset after a disruption like that. I'm getting better at it all the time, and by the time I get home, it's as if it never happened, though in the back of my head, the fear tries to get to me.
I pull up and park, seeing Ethan out back playing with his soccer ball, and head toward the house where the sitter is probably waiting for her payment. She sits at the kitchen table doing her college homework and smiles at me when I walk in.
"Hey, Mrs. Bennett, Ethan’s out back playing. I hope that's okay." She starts stacking her things up as Ethan barrels through the back door with grass stains on his knees. He's sweaty but he's smiling.
"Mom, I scored eleven goals today," he announces, holding up both hands with all his fingers spread. I smile at the sitter as she cradles her things and turns to me for the cash in my outstretched hand.
