Minor Adjustments (19 page)

“If you win custody, I will move to Sydney, and between Stella and I, you’ll always have someone looking over your shoulder, waiting for the day you mess up. You know Stella well enough to believe she will reopen this case at the first sign of neglect on your part. In other words, if you end up with Ryan, someone will always be watching.”

Devon leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “If, on the other hand, you decide to play the hero and write that letter we talked about, I’ll wire one hundred thousand American dollars into your bank account one month after the case is closed. After twenty-eight days, an appeal is no longer an option, so you’ll understand why I plan to wait until then.”

“And how do I know you’ll follow through on that?”

“You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Forgive me if I don’t,” Justin scoffed.

“I’m here, aren’t I? You know that Ryan is too important to me to risk your revenge. But as a show of good faith, I’ll have five thousand dollars deposited within a day of the case being closed. The rest you’ll get when I’m certain it’s closed for good. And if I ever see your face again, I’ll have records showing you accepted a bribe. It will look bad for both of us, but mostly for you, so I’d recommend staying as far away from me and Ryan as possible.”

“You think I’d give up my son that easily?”

“Please.” Devon pushed his chair back and tossed an old business card on the table. “Here’s my cell number. You have my offer. If you decide to accept it, text me your account info. As for the letter, you can deliver it to your solicitor and she’ll know what to do.”

Without another word, Devon walked out, leaving Justin to his disgusting apartment.

Devon finished reading
You Are Special
to Ryan before tucking him under the covers. Tomorrow they would appear in court for the final judgment, and Devon still hadn’t heard one word from Justin. The hope he’d felt weeks ago had dwindled and then died, and now Devon was having a difficult time masking his despair.

He had been so sure Justin would take the money—that this entire ordeal would have ended weeks ago. Maybe Devon hadn’t offered enough. Maybe he should run over to Justin’s apartment right then and double his offer. Would it make a difference? Would it sway him?

Large, trusting brown eyes stared up at him. “I want to see Aussie. He misses me.”

Devon brushed Ryan’s hair back. “I know.”

“When can we go home?”

Devon hesitated. “You know we have to go to court again tomorrow morning, right?”

“I don’t want to go. I want to go home and play with Aussie.”

“Just one more day and then we’ll be done, okay?”

“And then we can go home to see Aussie?”

Devon blinked and cleared his throat. He couldn’t let Ryan see him lose it. “I hope so, but it all depends on what the judge says. He might ask you to live with Justin for a while.”

Ryan’s lips trembled. “But I don’t want to live with Justin. I want to live with you and Aussie.” His face crumpled, and he started crying.

Devon felt tears wet his own eyes as he picked up Ryan and hugged him tight, rubbing his back and murmuring, “I know,” over and over. Eventually Ryan quieted down and fell asleep, but the pain still throbbed in Devon’s chest. Would he really have to stand by and watch Ryan get taken away?

His parents, solemn and quiet, were sitting on the couch in the front room. The feeling of gloom festered until Devon wanted to leave the hotel and hit the city streets—anything to distract him from the long night ahead.

Lydia patted the seat of the armchair, and Devon forced himself to sit down. Stella had left only an hour ago, explaining she had some things to get done before tomorrow, and Devon already missed her. He needed to see her, to feel her comforting arms around him and to hear her tell him everything would be okay.

As if reading his mind, his mother’s quiet voice broke through his thoughts. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, it’s going to be okay.” She said it like she was trying to convince herself as well.

Devon nodded but said nothing. He’d never believe that Ryan should belong with Justin. Never. Even Devon’s faith gave him no relief from the darkness and misery that consumed him now. It made no sense that a loving God would prod Lindsay into choosing Devon, only to let something like this happen.

Leaning forward, Devon’s thumb and finger covered his eyes as he wiped at the tears threatening to spill. He wanted to understand, wanted to believe there was a reason, but he couldn’t summon the will to try.

His mother stroked his back, offering a comfort he didn’t feel.

“Your mother’s right, son,” Jack said. “You’ve done all you can do. Now your only choice is to let the good Lord take over. He knows what He’s doing, even if we don’t.”

Devon broke down. His shoulders shook uncontrollably as he cried harder than he’d ever cried in his life. No words could describe the aching pit in his stomach, the sorrow that drowned his soul. He didn’t have the faith to believe it was supposed to turn out like this.

And yet Devon knew it happened all the time. Children forced to stay with abusive parents. Children born into horrible circumstances. Children belittled, despised, and treated cruelly. It had happened to Lindsay. Sure, he could tell himself that there was a reason; that what didn’t kill people made them stronger. But Devon couldn’t wrap his mind around any of it—not now. Not when it was Ryan.

Ryan. His buddy, his champ. The boy who’d traipsed into Devon’s life with his dimple, his charm, and his little Australian accent. The boy who giggled, loved Aussie, tracked dirt everywhere, colored on walls, memorized poems, and made castles for ninjas. The boy who sent balloons to heaven and couldn’t understand why the Southern Cross didn’t appear in the Portland night skies.

The boy who called him Dad.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice cutting though his sobs. “I’m not strong enough.”

Jack laid a hand on Devon’s back, speaking through tears of his own. “You’re stronger than you think you are. We all are—even Ryan.”

But Ryan shouldn’t have to be strong enough.

“We’re going to try and get some sleep,” Jack said. “You should too. We’ll see you in the morning.”

His mom kissed the top of his head before they left, and as the door clicked closed, the thick silence of the room screamed in Devon’s ears.

He had never felt more alone.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

On the morning of the hearing, the weather reflected Stella’s mood. The sky was filled with ominous, swirling charcoal clouds that promised a thunderstorm. Peeking through her bedroom window, she searched for one ray of sunlight. Just one. Stella needed a sign that Devon had a whisper of a chance, that there was still hope. But no sunlight appeared, and she felt suffocated by the darkness. After a few minutes, she gave up, wished the clouds to Hades, and yanked her drapes closed.

In the foyer outside the courtroom, Stella nodded at Devon, Ryan, and the Pierces. Everyone looked as miserable as she felt. Even Ryan seemed to sense the overall mood and stood there quietly, gripping Devon’s hand and looking darling in a two-piece navy suit. Stella wanted to pick him up and take him far, far away where no one could find him.

The courtroom door opened, and Stella followed the others in slowly, glimpsing the room from the eyes of a client rather than a solicitor. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized what a life-altering day this could be for people. Yes, she had sympathized with clients in the past, felt terrible when the ruling didn’t go their way, but now Stella felt true empathy.

Finding her seat, she sat down. Devon’s parents sat a few rows back, holding hands and fighting back tears. Janelle Renning sat quietly and erect, with a bland, unreadable expression. Was she gloating inside? Did Janelle have any idea what Justin was really like? Did she know what she had done?

Stella’s fingers tightened around the pen in her fingers. She couldn’t seem to look at anyone without becoming emotional in one way or another. Reaching for Ryan’s hand, she held it tightly in her own, not daring to meet Devon’s eyes.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And for the first time in her career, Stella hated the law.

Where was Gerald? He should be here by now. Justin was nowhere to be seen either, which gave Stella some relief. She couldn’t handle looking into his cold, dark, and triumphant eyes. Maybe he’d been hit by a car and wouldn’t show up at all. If only.

Several minutes later, Gerald arrived out of breath, like he’d been running. “Sorry I’m late,” he breathed.

“Everything okay?” Stella asked.

“Traffic.”

A deep voice asked them to stand for Federal Magistrate Dover.

The magistrate entered briskly, took his seat, and scanned the courtroom. His gaze rested on the table where Janelle sat. “Where is your client, Ms. Renning?”

Janelle stood and lifted her chin. “Justin won’t be coming today, Your Honour. I told him he needed to be here, but he insisted that the letter we delivered to you would be sufficient to excuse him today.”

Stella’s heart pounded as she stared at Janelle. What letter? What was she talking about? She waited anxiously for the magistrate to speak.

“He should have been here regardless of my decision.”

“I know, Your Honour, but I couldn’t force him to come,” Janelle said.

“I could reschedule this hearing, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But nothing I said would convince him to come.”

What’s going on? Would the judge really postpone the hearing? Please no!

The magistrate’s eyes shifted to Ryan before resting on Janelle once again. “This case has dragged on long enough, so we will proceed with the decision. Your client, however, will be assessed a fine of one hundred dollars for thinking he knows better than the law. Mr. Wells filed the appeal, he should have been here.”

“I understand, Your Honour. And thank you.” Janelle said.

“Very well, then. Let’s not waste any more time.” The magistrate slid on a pair of reading glasses and looked down at the papers on his desk. “Yesterday, I received a letter from Justin Wells stating his intent to withdraw from the case. I don’t understand why, nor did I appreciate the short notice.” He glanced meaningfully at Janelle over the top of his glasses.

When she offered a solemn nod, he returned his attention to the papers. “That being said, I’ve since revised my orders. They are as follows: That the child, Ryan Caldwell, live with the respondent, Devon Pierce, permanently, and that the applicant, Justin Wells, have no parental responsibility for either day-to-day or long-term issues relating to the child . . .”

Relief and joy burst through Stella’s body, drowning out the magistrate’s voice. She couldn’t believe it. Justin had actually withdrawn, even if he’d waited until the last day to do it. He’d probably delayed on purpose, hoping to get back at Stella and Devon. But none of that mattered now. It was over.

Finally.

Stella blinked away tears as she pulled Ryan into a hug. Over his head, she met Devon’s eyes. A smile stretched across his face and she grinned in return, wanting to throw her arms around him as well.

When the judge finished speaking and dismissed them, Devon pulled Ryan to his lap. “Did you hear that, kiddo? You get to live with me forever. We get to go home.”

Ryan’s dimple was back. “Forever?”

“And ever,” Devon said, holding him tight.

Lydia ran to them and wrapped her arms around Ryan and Devon. “I don’t believe it. I mean, I know you offered Justin—”

“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Devon interrupted with a smile. “And neither do you.”

“She rarely does,” Jack said, grinning.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so happy.” Tears streaked down Lydia’s cheeks. She lifted Ryan from Devon’s arms and hugged him tight. “I’m making you spaghetti and homemade ice cream with TimTams the minute we get back to Portland.”

“Yay!” Ryan shouted. “Can Aussie have some too?”

“He can have mine,” Jack said, for once not grumbling about spaghetti and ice cream.

Hand-in-hand, they walked out of the courthouse together and into bright sunlight. The clouds had actually parted, and Stella could literally see rays of sunshine forging through. It was as if they were telling her, “What just happened wasn’t a dream. It’s really over.”

A moment later the clouds blocked the sun, thunder shook the skies, and rain came pouring down. Stella wanted to laugh and jump up and down, to dance and twirl in the rain. She didn’t care about her dry-clean-only suit. Ryan would be where he belonged. With Devon.

And only one question remained: Where did Stella belong?

Jack and Lydia shooed Devon and Stella out the door. “Take her out to dinner,” Lydia said. “You two deserve a relaxing evening, and we want Ryan all to ourselves tonight.”

Stella was grateful for the chance to be alone with Devon. Now that the case had ended, she had questions. A lot of questions. She wanted to know what Devon had said to Justin and how much he’d offered him—how much more he’d had to sacrifice.

The elevator took forever to arrive, and when the doors finally opened, Stella pulled Devon inside.

As soon as the doors closed, she asked. “So how much did it take?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I want to know.”

“Sorry, but you’ll have to live with never knowing because I’ll never tell you.”

Stella squeezed his hand. The sacrifices Devon had made for Ryan seemed to rain down endlessly, like the weather from earlier that day. His job, his flat in Chicago, his former fiancée, his bachelor life of freedom.

And now his money.

“How can I ever thank you?” Stella focused on the glowing floor numbers. Five . . . Four . . . Three . . .

When the elevator chimed and stopped, Devon pressed the button to keep the doors closed. Two fingers lifted her chin, and his eyes met hers. “I love Ryan, and I would do anything for him. Understand?”

Stella nodded. Could there be a better man than him? A sensation she couldn’t quite describe, a sort of intense rush, flowed through every part of her. She felt drawn to Devon like never before. He’d done so much. Enough. He shouldn’t have to make anymore sacrifices—at least not for her.

Devon let go of the button, and they left the hotel behind. The busyness of Sydney’s streets went unnoticed as a peace and calm overtook Stella, confirming the rightness of her decision.

As soon as they were seated in the charming and romantic seafood restaurant, Stella blurted, “I want to move to America.” The decision had been easy—easier than deciding what meal to order.

Devon’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. “No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” She was absolutely, positively, undoubtedly sure.

“No. You don’t.”

“I can see Ryan has taught you how to debate,” she said. “But I’ll say it again. Yes, I do.”

“Why? You can’t use your law degree in America. You’d be giving up your career, and I won’t let you do that.”

Oh, he did not just say that.
“You won’t let me? I’m sorry, but you have no say in the matter. I can move to America if I want to.”

“Why? I thought we’d already agreed that Ryan and I would move here.”

“Because Portland is where you and Ryan belong. It’s where Lindsay would want you to be, and it’s as far away from Justin as you can possibly get.”

Devon’s hand reached for hers. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.”

“I did too.”

“No,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “You told me why Ryan and I should stay in America, not why you want to move there.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nope.” Devon was teasing her. He knew exactly why she wanted to move, but the smile in his eyes challenged her to say the words out loud.

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“One should do the trick.”

Stella laughed. “Fine. I’m moving to America because I want to be where you and Ryan are. And unlike you, I’m sure I can think of something to do with my life. I could write for an international magazine, teach, or maybe even become a counselor. I did get an undergraduate degree in psychology, you know.”

His lips twitched. “That explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Your impressive ability to manipulate people, for one thing.”

“Maybe. But that degree was also supposed to help me understand people, which I don’t. Here I am, telling you I’m willing to move to your country so I can be with you and Ryan, and you’re trying to convince me not to. Is this your way of telling me your feelings have changed?”

“My feelings for you will never change. I just don’t want to see you give up something you love so much.”

“Even if it’s for something I love even more?”

For once, Devon was speechless. Brown eyes stared into hers before a gradual smile stretched across his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I kissed you right now?”

Chills ran up her arms. Delightful, happy chills. “No. I’d be embarrassed if you didn’t. It’s not every day I declare something like that in public.”

Devon grinned as he brought his lips to hers in a kiss that made Stella forget they were in a restaurant.

Well, almost forget. A throat cleared next to their table. It was their waiter, holding two steaming plates.

Devon leaned back in his seat. “Sorry, man, but there’s only so much temptation a guy can take.”

Stella’s cheeks infused with heat.

“No worries.” The waiter grinned. “Will there be anything else?”

“No,” Stella said. “And thanks. It smells delicious.”

“Enjoy your dinner . . . and the entertainment.” The waiter winked at Devon and left.

“You gotta love Australia,” Devon said, then lowered his voice. “You know, we could always have the waiter wrap this up and take it back to your place so we can eat and ‘entertain’ ourselves in private.”

“Oh, stop it.” Really, though, Stella loved the teasing. It warmed her and brought a silly giddiness to her stomach.

“Then how about a race?” he suggested.

“A race?”

“First one finished gets to decide whether we live here or in Portland.”

Stella dropped her fork. “Finished.”

“Brilliant,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Devon.” He couldn’t be serious.

But he was already flagging down the waiter. When asked to box up their order, the look on the waiter’s face made Stella cover her mouth to muffle her laughter.

The boxes remained on the table as Devon dragged Stella out of the restaurant, around a corner, and down a less populated, quieter street. Finding a dark corner, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless.

Or at least tried to. Unfortunately, Stella’s giggles interrupted them. She couldn’t stop. Every time her eyes closed, the waiter’s bemused face appeared, and she erupted all over again.

Devon finally gave up. “You’re ruining the moment, you know.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But did you see how the waiter looked at us? Priceless.”

“Obviously we need to get your mind off that waiter and back on me, where it belongs.” Devon grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street. “Let’s see if one of your random facts will do the trick.”

It worked. The waiter forgotten, Stella groaned. “When are you going to stop making me do this?”

“When you tell me something I already know.”

“Oh. Well in that case, did you know that chickens lay eggs?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s fascinating.”

“Rubbish.” She should’ve known he’d say that.

Devon continued to pull her along. The street had a dark, vacant feel, and Stella suddenly wanted to be back in his arms.

“Since you’ve finally run out of random facts, mind if I have a turn?” Devon asked.

“Do you really think you can come up with something I don’t already know?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“By all means, then, have a go.”

Devon’s steps slowed, and he scanned the street, as if making sure they were alone. Brown eyes back on her, he said, “Did you know that when an American guy falls in love with a gorgeous Australian girl, it guarantees him good luck for the rest of his life?”

Stella’s heart down-shifted from fifth to first gear, nearly stopping altogether. She could hardly breathe. “If that’s true, you must not be in love with me. You’ve had horrible luck since we met.”

“How do you know it’s you I’m talking about?”

“A woman’s intuition.”

“Fair enough,” Devon said. “And you’re right. I have had horrible luck since I met you. On the other hand, I would still be a single workaholic living in downtown Chicago with no one to come home to, no one to call me Dad, and no one to kiss. Call me crazy, but I kind of like my new life.”

“Really?”

Devon’s arms circled her waist. “Really.”

Stella felt like a teenager who’d been asked out by her first real crush. Only better. So, so, so much better. Actually, there was no comparison. “Well, that’s all fine for you, but what about the Aussie girl? Does she get any guarantees?”

“Sorry, did I leave that part out?” He pulled her closer. “She is promised a ready-made family with a busy child, a dodgy house, a big dog, and all the fish she could ever want.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Actually, it sounded wonderful, like a slice of heaven.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.”

Stella picked at a piece of lint from his shirt. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just propose?” she teased.

“I don’t know. Did you just say yes?”

Stella smiled. All her life she’d had the occasional girlhood fantasy of a guy kneeling down in front of her, speaking words of adoration, telling her how much he loved her, how he couldn’t live without her—wait a minute.

“No, I did not just say yes.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she repeated. “Because you forgot some very important words, Mister.”

He paused. “Please?”

She could tell he was enjoying this. “Strike one.”

“Abracadabra?”

“Strike two. One more and you’re out.”

“I didn’t think Australians knew anything about baseball.”

“Strike three, you’re out.”

“That wasn’t my guess,” he said.

“Fine. You get one more chance, so don’t blow it.”

Devon pulled her close and kissed her long and hard, leaving her breathless. “I love you, Stella Walker,” he whispered in her ear. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gray box. Kneeling down on the sidewalk, he flipped open the lid and exposed a brilliant round diamond on a wide white-gold band.

“Will you marry me, Stella Walker?”

She gasped and entered a universe where time slowed and all noise disappeared except the sound of someone pounding furiously on a large bass drum. Or was that her heartbeat? The air thinned, the lights dimmed, and all that remained were her and him. Nothing else.

“I know this is a surprise, but I’ve had this ring for a couple of months now, waiting for that nightmare of a court battle to be over. I thought I’d jinxed everything when I first bought it, but then it became my hope for a future with you and Ryan. I carried it with me everywhere, not because I planned to propose right away, but because I needed the reminder. In fact, I wasn’t even planning on proposing tonight, but after dinner . . . Well, I couldn’t wait any longer.

“I don’t know how things will pan out or where we’ll end up, but so long as we’re together, I really don’t care.” Devon’s eyes searched hers, probing and wondering. “So what do you say, Stella? Will you marry me?”

Stella smiled through her tears. It had been perfect, even better than her girlhood dreams. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

Then she was in his arms again—a place she never wanted to leave.

“Looks like my plan worked,” Devon said. “I dare you to try to think about anyone else right now.”