“Detective Adler,” Patricia begins, “can you explain why you believe a change to the current weekend schedule would benefit your children?”
Evan launches into his prepared speech about stability, age-appropriate activities, and concerns about his children being exposed to “adult social environments” during hockey activities.
“The children have become overly involved in organized sports,” he says, voice measured and reasonable. “This consumes their weekends and exposes them to situations I don’t believe are appropriate for their age and development.”
“Can you be more specific about your concerns?” Patricia asks.
“Team parties with alcohol present. Late games that disrupt their sleep schedules. Exposure to adult relationships and social dynamics they’re too young to understand.”
I want to object, to point out that he’s describing family barbecues and age-appropriate sporting events, but Jessica places a restraining hand on my arm.
“Ms. Adler,” Patricia turns to me, “how do you respond to these concerns?”
“Hockey has been incredibly positive for both my children,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Tyson has gained confidence and learned teamwork. Blythe has developed social skills and physical coordination. The team families have become a support system for all of us.”
“But you understand Detective Adler’s concerns about adult social situations?”
“The ‘adult social situations’ he’s referring to are family barbecues with other parents and children. Supervised, age-appropriate activities that have helped my kids develop healthy relationships with positive role models.”
Patricia makes notes, clearly unimpressed with Evan’s vague concerns. “Is there evidence that these activities have harmed the children in any way? Declining grades, behavioral problems, any concrete indication that these activities are detrimental?”
Evan’s lawyer shuffles through papers. “Detective Adler believes the children are being exposed to unstable influences?—”
“I’m asking about evidence,” Patricia interrupts. “Not beliefs or assumptions.”
The mediation continues for another hour, with Evan becoming increasingly frustrated as Patricia challenges his claims. When we take a break, I find myself alone with Evan in the hallway while our lawyers discuss scheduling.
“You know,” I say quietly, “I’ve learned some interesting things recently about professional conduct and accountability.”
His head snaps toward me, something wary flickering in his eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Everyone has a history, Evan. Some histories are more public than others.” I keep my voice casual, conversational. “Amazing what information becomes available when people start looking.”
The change in his demeanor is immediate. The controlled facade wavers, and for a moment I see genuine uncertainty in his expression.
“You’re fishing,” he says, but there’s less conviction in his voice.
“Am I?” I smile slightly. “Well, I guess we’ll see what happens if this gets more contentious.”
When we reconvene, Evan’s approach has shifted. Instead of pushing aggressively for full weekend custody, he’s suddenlywilling to discuss “reasonable compromises” and “gradual transitions.”
Patricia notices the change too, her eyebrows rising slightly as Evan’s lawyer proposes maintaining the current schedule with minor modifications for communication.
“I’m pleased to see we can find common ground,” she says diplomatically. “Detective Adler, you seem more comfortable with preserving the children’s current activities than you were an hour ago.”
“I want what’s best for my children,” Evan replies stiffly. “If their current activities are truly beneficial, then perhaps we can find ways to ensure appropriate oversight.”
By the end of the session, the recommendation is exactly what Jessica hoped for: current weekend schedule remains in place, with added provisions for better communication about activities and events.
“I find no evidence that the children’s current weekend activities are harmful,” Patricia states. “In fact, they appear to be thriving in their current environment. The mediation will recommend maintaining the status quo with improved communication between parents.”
As we gather our papers, I catch Evan watching me with a mixture of anger and wariness. He knows I have something on him, but he doesn’t know exactly what or how much.
In the parking lot, he approaches me as Jessica loads her car.
“What do you think you know?” he asks quietly.
“I think you should be very careful about filing frivolous petitions in the future,” I reply. “Some information is better left buried, don’t you think?”
