Page 105 of The Moment You Know

“Because I’m his mother.”

“And?”

“And mothers usually get sole custody.”

“So, that’s what you want? Sole custody?”

Ashley nodded. “But don’t worry,” she told him, her voice taking on an unpleasant pitch. “I know how much you like spending time with Jacob, so I’ll let you see him on the weekends.”

David tilted his head. He knew her not-so-thinly-veiled threat had more to do with wanting to screw him over than it had to do with her actually wanting Jacob; not to mention, she was a little confused about the definition of ‘sole custody’. “Do you know what sole custody is?”

“It’s where the child lives with one parent most of the time and sees the other parent on the weekends.”

“Wrong. Sole custody is where the child lives with one parent all the time, and the other parent doesn’t have any visitation rights at all, nor are they involved in making any decisions for the child,” he informed her. “What you’re talking about is full custody, with supervised daytime visits allowed. Not that it really matters, though, since you’re not going to get either one of those.”

“Who says I’m not? You?”

It was his turn to nod. “And the law.”

“The law?”

“That’s right. Under the law, you and I have equal parental rights, which means joint custody. That’s where—”

“I know what joint custody is, thank you,” Ashley snapped. “And you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“In regard to what?”

“Equal parental rights. We never got married, remember?”

“Of course I remember. I was there when we didn’t get married.”

Her lips thinned in anger at his insult, and its bland delivery. “So, that means we don’t have equal parental rights, which means we’re not talking about joint custody.”

Her inner bitch really could turn on a dime, he mused. And her inner bitch was in for a rude awakening.

“Apparently you’ve never done any research on parental rights,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. “But I have. I started researching my parental rights about thirty minutes after you told me you were pregnant. I have equal rights to my son, with or without marriage to you. And you know why? Because I’m listed as Jacob’s father on his birth certificate and he legally has my last name. I also established paternity with a DNA test right after Jacob was born. You didn’t know that? Well, now you do. So, you see, Ash, that does mean we’re talking joint custody. So next time you try and fire a round, make sure your gun is locked and loaded with something other than bullshit in it.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine. Let’s talk joint custody.”

“Normally, that means equal time, equal responsibility, and equal decision making, but in this case—”

“It will mean the same thing.”

He gave her a long look. “You sure about that?”

She stared back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’d like you to take a minute and think about what having joint custody would mean for you, and not just in the context of dicking me over, okay? The satisfaction you’ll get at hurting me won’t outweigh the inconvenience you’ll experience with joint custody. Because for you, it will be an inconvenience.

“Right now, you think it’s easy taking care of him, because I’m doing all the heavy lifting. I watch him. I bathe him. I feed him. I take him to the park. I take him to preschool. I pick him up from preschool. I watch movies with him. I take him to see the doctor. I take him to the dentist. I put him to bed. I read him bedtime stories. Do you even know what his favorite book is?”

Ashley blinked at him, obviously surprised at the question and didn’t answer.

“What’s his favorite cartoon? His favorite movie? His favorite food? His favorite stuffed animal? His favorite color? Don’t know those, either?” David gave her a flat look and continued. “I do. I know everything about him. I do everything for him. And I pay for everything.”

He leaned back in his chair. “So, if you have joint custody, you’ll have to take over half of everything—and I mean everything. You’ll be completely responsible for him half the time, which means you’ll have to start taking him to preschool, picking him up afterward, feeding him, and bathing him. You’ll have to go grocery shopping with him. You’ll have to schedule your nail appointments around him. If he gets sick when he’s with you, or needs to go to the doctor, you’ll have to take him.” He held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you the name and address of his pediatrician,” he said, not caring if he sounded like a dick; she was the one who’d rung the bell for this fight and he wasn’t going to pull any punches.

“You’ll be watching him by yourself and those times when you get a babysitter for him so you can go out with your friends, will be on your dime, not mine, like it is now. And you probably don’t know this, but babysitters make pretty good bank. I pay Casey $15 dollars an hour, so a night out with your friends will probably run you $60 dollars, not counting what you’ll spend at the bar—”

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