Page 31 of Coffee Shop Girl
Something ... bold.
I sucked in a sharp breath, then scooted deeper into the booth, putting him out of my line of sight again. How had I let my attention drift over there? Making eye contact with him sent a buzz down my spine.
Seconds later, Kin wrapped up his call.
“Sorry,” he said again. “I normally don’t—”
“No problem at all. You’re doing me a huge favor tonight. Anyway, let’s assume I want full custody.” I picked at a breadstick. “What would that entail?”
“Gather proof against their father, but you’ve already got some of that. Second, you need to prove that they’d be in a better situation here. Maybe access to school is better, school system is higher rated, etc.”
He hesitated.
“And?”
“You’d have to prove that you could physically, financially, and emotionally support them.”
My throat worked in a heavy swallow. “Assume I can do all of that. What if Jim comes back into the picture?”
“If he were to come forward, admit wrongdoing, get professional help, and attend the classes that the state offers, there’s a chance he could get Ellie back. Lizbeth is old enough that most judges would allow her to choose.”
“They wouldn’t split up.”
“Then Lizbeth would go back with Ellie. It’s possible that some judges would grant you temporary custody while Jim works through whatever is going on.” He frowned. “Whatiscausing this, do you know?”
“A crappy personality?” I muttered. “He took Mama’s death really hard. Lizbeth says he’s drinking more. I’m not sure how long he’s been physically hitting them. Alcohol plays some role, but they won’t tell me much. There could be more going on.”
“Then counseling would be ordered for him, as well as rehab and anger management.”
For a long pause, we stared at each other.
“But I can’t send them back, Kin,” I whispered. “How could I?”
“They could always go into the foster system. And, if you couldn’t support them and a judge ruled against you, they may.”
My heart hurt just thinking about it. Despite Jada’s optimism, foster care was the last thing I wanted. The girls didn’t need another adult failing them. Mama had left. Jim. Even, in some sense, Dad.
“So, we could go through all of this and still lose them?”
“Technically ... yes.”
“Okay.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Let’s say I fight for custody. Prove I can support them, and the girls want to stay with me. Would a judge grant it?”
Stephanie approached with chicken fettuccine for him and lasagna for me. After our murmured thank-you’s, she disappeared with a wink.
Maverick had moved to the bar, closer to the television screen, his back to me now. A half-drunk bottle of beer sat in front of him. How had I gravitated over again? Turning away from him, I picked up a fork and stabbed into the pasta.
“I think we could find a judge that would grant it,” Kin said, picking the conversation back up as he twirled some fettuccine. “Of course, that depends on the judge, the time of day, and what kind of mood they’re in. There are some that definitely favor family members gaining full custody, but others have known to be forgiving to parents who go through programs.”
Talking about Jim had robbed some of my appetite, but I forced myself to try a bite. While encouraging, all of this simply meant one thing: I had to decide whether I could actually support the girls. Give them the stability, home, and support they needed in all areas of their lives. All while I felt like my own life was spinning in every wind that buffeted me.
I’d have to find a new place to live.
Get the Frolicking Moose running predictably.
Somehow afford attorney bills.
And give up my real estate dream for another year or ten.
