Minor Adjustments (15 page)

Stella stretched her arms as she walked to the window. Her office felt like a sauna, but she refused to keep her blinds closed during the day. There was something about natural sunlight that livened up the space and brought a certain hope and anticipation.

November had always been a beautiful month, but this particular one seemed warmer and more humid than usual—her damp and sticky skin attested to it. Thank goodness it was Friday and quitting time. Stella had worked late every night that week and planned to spend her entire Saturday holed up at the beach, relaxing, reading, and enjoying the cool ocean waves.

The perfect reward.

“Stella?” a deep voice asked.

“That’s me.” She finished closing the blinds and turned around. “Sorry, but I’m on my way—” Nausea filled her stomach.
No, no, no!

“I can see by your expression that you recognize me.”

Stella forced her voice to remain calm. “As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could ever forget your face.”

Justin Wells offered her a slimy smile—one that she had come to loathe years ago. “I always knew you were jealous of Lindsay.”

Hate filled Stella. Raw, bitter, hatred. “What do you want, Justin?”

He sauntered over to her window and looked out onto the street below. “The most interesting thing happened to me. A couple of weeks ago I ran into an old coworker of Lindsay’s. She knew I’d gone out with Lindsay and mentioned how sad she’d been about her death. Imagine my surprise when she also mentioned Lindsay had left behind a four-year-old son.”

Justin turned and faced Stella, probing her with his dark brown eyes. “Now, I know I’ve never been the best at math, but even I could figure out that the four-year-old son would have to be mine. Or is he five now?”

Stella tried unsuccessfully to swallow the bile in her throat. “Lindsay didn’t know who the father was. And regardless, it’s a moot point because the child now has a legal guardian.”

“Didn’t know who the father was?” Justin scoffed. “Like Lindsay could have found anyone else who would take her. No, you and I both know he’s my son. And guardian or no, fathers have rights.”

Stella’s once stifling office now felt cold and clammy. “I’ll ask you again. What do you want?”

“My son.”

Stella folded her arms to hide her shaking hands. “Even if the child is yours, why would you want him?”

With a mock look of affront, Justin asked, “How could I not want my son? My own flesh and blood?”

“I’m no idiot, Justin.” What did he want with Ryan anyway? He’d never liked or cared about children. In fact, he was the most selfish and lazy person she’d ever met. Had he changed? Not likely. It was in his eyes—the anger, the bitterness, the greed.

Suddenly, Stella knew. “You’re after the dole payments, aren’t you?”

Justin shrugged. “If Centrelink feels the need to pay me for taking care of my son, who am I to argue?”

“You’re a pig, Justin. A lazy, good-for-nothing pig. And it’s going to take more than a positive DNA test to get him back.”

“Like what?”

“Like proof you’d make an adequate father and proof you’re employed, for starters. You’re only kidding yourself if you think any magistrate or psychologist won’t see right through you. All you’ll be doing is wasting your time and money.”

Justin smiled. “But it’s not my money to waste, is it? Not when I’ve found a sympathetic barrister willing to take on my case pro bono.”

He was like a housecat—lounging around all day while expecting others to pamper and spoon-feed him. Stella wanted to slap him, but the solicitor in her held back.

“You’re a mug if you think the court will grant you custody of Ryan,” she said.

A moment of uncertainty was quickly masked by a seedy smile. “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess we’ll find out.” He nodded in her direction before striding out the door. “I’m sure my barrister will be in touch. Have a nice weekend.”

Stella stood tall until the elevator doors closed; then she crumpled. If Justin followed through with his threat, Stella knew from experience that the battle for custody would be a difficult one. Not only was Justin a good actor but he was also Ryan’s biological father.

She was 99 percent sure.

“Hey.” Tess poked her head in Stella’s door. “A couple of us are going out for dinner. Want to come?”

A thick fog seemed to surround Tess. What had she said?

“What’s wrong?” Tess said.

Through the fog, Stella managed to tell her friend about Justin’s visit. She needed someone with a clear head to tell her everything would be okay.

“Do you think he’ll actually go through with it?” Tess asked.

“Yes.” There was no doubt in Stella’s mind.

“Well, we’ll fight it then. You’ll need someone to represent you in court, and I’m sure Gerald will serve as your barrister.”

“It will take more than my word against Justin’s to keep a magistrate from awarding him custody. You know that. Unless I can prove otherwise, we both know judges favor the family—especially if Justin can fool the psychologist into thinking he’s a decent guy.”

Stella dropped her head to her desk. “I feel ill. This can’t be happening. What am I going to do?”

A hand covered hers. “No worries, love. We’ll find a way. In fact, we’ll make that nong wish he’d never fathered a child.”

“Thanks, Tess.” Stella tried to smile.

“Now enough wallowing. Come and get some grub with us. Everyone’s waiting.”

“Another night?” Stella was in no mood to socialize. She needed time to think.

A sympathetic wave and Tess was gone.

More than ever, Stella needed someone. She couldn’t fight Justin alone. Sure Tess and Gerald would be on her side, working side by side, but Stella needed more than the law. She needed a crutch. Someone to lean on.

She needed Devon.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

It had been over six weeks since Devon had watched Stella drive away. Six long weeks. Although she’d still talked to Ryan through the webcam once a week, it had been Lydia, not Devon, who’d sat beside Ryan. Devon had needed time to think. Time away from Stella to mull over things and figure out what he wanted to do.

And now, six weeks later, he’d finally decided. Tonight he would call Stella.

The opening notes of “Danger Zone” burst from his phone, and Devon laughed at the coincidence. Her timing couldn’t be better.

“Stella?” he answered. “I’m so glad you called.

“You are?”

“I was actually planning on calling you tonight after Ryan went to bed.”

“Oh. Well I need to talk to you too. It’s important.” Her voice sounded weak and shaky.

“Is everything okay?”

“No,” Stella said. “No, it’s not.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ryan.” Devon could barely hear her. “His father is going to try and take him away from you.”

“His father?” Devon felt like he’d entered a surreal universe. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t know who the father was. I have his birth certificate to prove it.”

“Known or unknown, everyone has a father,” Stella said.

“So you’re telling me that some guy walked in off the street claiming to be Ryan’s father and you believed him?”

“He is Ryan’s father,” she said. “I’m almost positive.”

“Did you do a DNA test?”

“Not yet, but I don’t need one to know.”

Her meaning was clear. “Are you saying you lied to me? All this time you’ve known who Ryan’s father was?”

“I’m telling you Lindsay withheld information.”

“Yeah, but if you know this guy’s the father, then you also know that she lied on the birth certificate, right?”

“I was Lindsay’s friend, Devon, so no, she never flat-out told me Justin was the father—but only because I was her solicitor and she knew I’d be legally obligated to search for him. Yes, I had a good idea who he was, but I wasn’t about to pry it out of her. Lindsay stuck to the story that the father was a one-night stand. That’s why she wrote ‘unknown’ on the birth certificate.”

A pit settled in Devon’s stomach. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“Ryan has his eyes. The resemblance is too close to doubt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I probably should have,” Stella said. “But it didn’t matter at the time.”

“It didn’t matter?” he asked. “For crying out loud, Stella. Ever since I’ve met you it’s been one secret after another. Haven’t you ever heard of honesty and trust?”

“I never lied to you.”

“You just didn’t tell me the whole truth.”

“You’re right. I didn’t,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

Devon raked his fingers through his hair, fighting for a calm he didn’t feel. “So what’s going to happen now?”

“Justin will have to file for an appeal to have the parenting orders varied. Then the Family or Federal Court will review the situation and a magistrate will ultimately decide whether or not Ryan belongs with you . . . or with Justin.”

“But I’m legally listed as Ryan’s guardian.”

“It can be overturned,” Stella said. “If it was anyone but the father fighting this, the court would have no reason to remove him from your care. But a father changes everything—from the birth certificate to your guardianship.”

“Okay, so if he files the appeal, what then?”

“In two to four months, you’ll hear from an ICL—an independent children’s lawyer who will be appointed to act on Ryan’s behalf. You’ll be required to bring Ryan back to Australia and the ICL will commission a child psychologist to interview both you and Justin and then report back.”

“Report back on what?”

“Motivations to care for Ryan, parenting capacities, deficits in parenting skills, bonding, and attachment. They will also take into account the long- and short-term psychological impacts of Ryan being removed from your care at this stage of life.”

That sounded promising. Better than anything else she’d said. “Well, that’s good, right? The court wouldn’t want to take Ryan away from someone who has been his guardian for nearly a year.”

Silence. Not good.

“Right, Stella?”

“That’s the hope. But it’s been my experience that in situations such as these, unless the parent is proven incompetent, they usually get custody. In Australia, we place a great value on families, so the courts prefer to keep children in a home with their biological families.”

“You’re telling me they could take Ryan away from me just like that?”

“Yes,” Stella said. “If the magistrate rules in Justin’s favor, a common scenario would be for the psychologist to suggest a gradual increase in contact with the father—at least until familiarity and trust is built. Then a graduated move to the father.”

“But we live in America.”

“I know. Which is why the magistrate might give Justin full custody right away.”

This conversation was going from bad to worse. She was making it sound as though there was no hope at all. “But you said Lindsay only dated drunks. Is this guy one of them?”

“Yeah. But Justin was never physically abusive like some of the guys Lindsay hung around. It was more emotional. He lost his temper and yelled at her all the time. He was also selfish and lazy, and expected Lindsay to support him.”

“Why would a judge grant custody to someone like that?”

“The problem is that Justin knows how to charm and deceive most people into thinking he’s better than what he really is. At least for a while. Yes, he was emotionally abusive to Lindsay, but I can’t prove that—especially not now that she’s gone. And unless Justin has done something that’s been documented somewhere, our only argument is that he’s lazy and looking for a way to live off the government.”

“Live off the government? What are you talking about?”

“Justin knows that as a single parent, he can get money from Centrelink—a government-funded agency that assists those in need. They’ve tightened the reins over the years on single adults, but single parents are a different story. It’s easier for them to receive help because they have a child or children to support.”

“Are you telling me Justin is doing this for some welfare check?” Devon practically shouted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Afraid not. When he and Lindsay were together, Justin faked an injury for the compo payments. He had no problem collecting government money back then, so why would it be any different now?”

If what she said was true, if Justin really placed a value on some government check, then there was hope. Maybe Devon could end it all before it began. “If that’s true, why can’t I offer Justin enough money to make him back off?”

“No, I don’t want you to do that,” Stella said. “That’s not the answer.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, Justin will be able to puppeteer you any way he chooses. There will be nothing to stop him from threatening you again.”

The sick feeling returned to Devon’s gut. “Stella, there has to be some way we can fight this. I’m not about to stand around and let Ryan walk out of my life and into Justin’s. Don’t ask me to do that.”

“I would never ask you to do that,” she said. “And we will fight—in every way that we can. I promise.”

“How? You just said we have no case.”

“As soon as we hear that Justin has officially appealed, we’ll hire a private investigator to dig into his life and hopefully find some witnesses to testify about his emotionally abusive personality. We’ll also subpoena police and hospital records to see if he’s ever been charged with anything, or if he’s ever been admitted for mental health problems. Hopefully he’s done something in the last five years that we can take to court.”

“Tell me what I can do.” Devon needed something, anything. The thought of sitting around and waiting held no appeal.

“There’s nothing you can do—especially from America.”

“Then I’ll get us on the first flight out there.”

“No,” Stella said. “Justin may not even appeal the case, and even if he does, there’s really nothing you could do from here either. As your legal advisors, Gerald and I will need to handle everything. Besides, I don’t want you to uproot Ryan until you have to. It’ll be best if you keep him in a regular routine for as long as you can.”

“Stella, there has to be something I can do. I can’t just sit around here waiting and worrying. Please. Give me something.”