Page 135 of Not Your Average Vixen
Soren nodded to this retired judge, Lawrence Duncan, trying to place him. “Okay.”
“You see, Scooter, Larry came to me with a perplexing case many years ago. He was charged with overseeing a very contentious custody battle.”
Larry Duncan nodded. “But this was different from most custody battles I’d presided over. In this case, despite being exorbitantly wealthy, neither parent wanted custody of the shared child.”
Soren froze, unable to move. His heart hammered in his chest as the name Lawrence Duncan clicked into place.
“Larry came to me for advice when it was time for the minor child to go to high school,” the judge continued.
Larry leaned forward. “The parents finally agreed on something. They each advocated for boarding school. I knew that Frank here had a grandson the same age as this minor, so I asked for his advice on possible schools.”
Soren looked from Judge Lawrence Duncan to Judge Franklin Abbott, before his gaze settled on the man who had taught him how to fish. “You suggested that I go to the same school as Tom, didn’t you?”
The judge nodded. “And that you share a dorm room.”
Soren sank back into the couch cushions, unable to believe that there had been those looking after his welfare as a child. Not just Janine for the short time she’d been his nanny, but Judge Lawrence Duncan and Judge Franklin Abbott. A man who knew he’d been unwanted from the start.
He shook his head to clear the stupefied haze. “Why didn’t you ever say anything, Judge? All this time I thought…”
“That you’d just gotten lucky?” the man supplied.
Soren nodded.
“We spoke about the decision. I believe one of your nannies had brought you to meet with me. Do you remember what you said when I’d told you the news?” Lawrence asked gently.
Soren nodded. Judge Lawrence Duncan’s beard wasn’t white when they’d met years ago in that Manhattan courthouse. But there was no doubt that he was sitting across from the man who’d changed the trajectory of his life.
Larry Duncan shared a look with the judge. “You hugged me, right there in my chambers, son. And you told me how excited you were to have a place that could be a real home. I knew right then and there that you were a good kid. And that you deserved to find a place where people cared about you.”
“And I knew you and Tom would hit it off,” the judge added.
Crushing guilt weighed heavy on his heart. All that kindness, and he’d never learned from it. He’d never thought to incorporate all he’d learned from the Abbotts into his life.
He slumped forward. “Judge, I ruined everything.”
“Well, you may have outdone yourself in upsetting Tom, but I think you and my grandson can work it out.”
He exhaled a shaky breath. “I would love to believe that.”
“Now, what about yourAlice,” the man pressed.
He searched the judge’s eyes. “My Alice?”
“This fell out of your wallet when we were bleeding you dry at the poker table,” the short Santa said as he handed over the photo strip.
“You don’t have to be like your parents, Mr. Rudolph. Your birth doesn’t determine who you are. You and you alone are responsible for your choices. And I know that the grateful young man I’d met in my chambers is wholly capable of forging a new path,” Larry Duncan offered.
“And wholly capable of dedicating himself to his friends and to the love of his life,” the judge added.
“You know about Bridget?” he asked.
“Oh, kid! We could all tell that you were crazy about that stoned young lady the night you brought us those peanut butter blossoms,” the burly Santa answered.
The judge bit back a grin. “I’ve spent a lot of time with couples over the years. Overseeing marriages, divorces, and everything in between, you start to get a knack for reading between the lines when it comes to love.”
Soren turned to the Santa crew. “And she’s not actually a stoner. She accidentally ate a bunch of Tanner’s gummy bears without knowing the special ingredient,” he replied, remembering that wild, wonderful night.
“I don’t think that there’s anyone here who hasn’t indulged in Tanner’s treats. Just make sure she only eats a few next time. Unless she’s spent the day with hundreds of screaming toddlers. In that case, give her the bag,” a Mrs. Claus replied as the Santa contingent nodded in agreement.
