Page 23 of The Me I Left Behind (Tuckaway Bay #4)

Pushing back, Maggie stared out the window. What the hell? “I don’t want a fucking condo, and I don’t want him to buy it for me, either. I’ll buy and choose my own place. Besides, I need more room for the kids.”

“That’s the other thing.”

Maggie froze. Icy tremors tripped up her spine. “What does that mean?”

“He’s suing for full custody, claiming you are an unfit mother, citing a history of mental illness.”

“Excuse me?”

Julia took a breath. “He claims you’ve been on antidepressants for years and that there is mental illness in the family. Apparently, he says your mother was hospitalized for depression.”

“Fuck.” Maggie’s stomach turned over. “You know he’s only doing this, making the case for wanting them, because he doesn’t want them to think he’s abandoning them.”

“Maybe so. And we can certainly play that up.” Julia reached for her hand. “But let’s address his claim.”

“Well, I take antidepressants, yes. Who wouldn’t, given the circumstances?”

“Anything else?”

Maggie’s thoughts rolled over her recent recollections. “I saw a therapist years ago because of my mother issues. Max knew that. Do you think he’s talking about that, too?”

“I don’t know.” Julia exhaled and glanced over her notes. “Maybe. You never talked much about your family, Mags. Is he right? Is your mom mentally ill?”

My mother is crazy.

Just get out of this damn town. Out of this fucking house.

Mary Margaret Brennan! I’d kill myself right here and now, put a gun in my goddamn mouth and pull the fucking trigger, but I don’t want you to feel guilty for the rest of your life.

“Mom spent time in a facility,” she told Julia. “She threatened suicide, waving a gun around, and my dad called the cops. She willingly agreed to commit herself. But seeking help with mental health is not a bad thing. Is it?”

I am not like my mother.

Julia squeezed her hand tighter. “No, but let’s see how Max and his attorney spin it. Right now, let’s worry more about some of the other things.”

She would have a difficult time doing that, but would try. “Like…?”

“Like, the condo thing. He wants to move the kids to Australia. Therefore, all you need, according to him, is the condo. His attorney even suggested Max was being generous with the two-bedroom unit.”

“Well, how fucking special.”

“Of course, we will not agree to any of that.”

“No.” Her stomach was still queasy though…that he could even think about taking her kids. And this mental health issue? How far would he take that? The last thing she wanted was to rehash her dysfunctional relationship with her mother.

“Him having custody of the kids would be traumatic for them, Julia. Please play that up. Chloe is not prepared emotionally for anything like this. And Jason? I’m not sure he is, either. Carol will outright rebel, refuse, and tell him to go to hell.”

“You’re right. I will definitely play up the trauma angle, but since Carol is heading off to college in a few months, her issue is moot—except for Max footing the bill.

Jason’s input will be considered down the road.

And like you, I worry mostly about Chloe.

Just don’t mention the custody issue to them. I will make sure this does not happen.”

“Too late. We talked last night, so they know about the pending divorce, and why. Jason was having a hard time, so I had to tell him everything. Chloe was….” She sniffled.

“They had lots of questions, and I told them what I could. They needed some assurance that I would not let Max take them. But I won’t say anything more until things are final. ”

“Oh, Mags. How did that go?”

“Rough.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with a napkin. “But things were better this morning.”

Angie swept up to the table with a tray, setting both breakfasts in front of the women. “Enjoy, darlings. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Maggie took one look at her eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and rushed off to find a restroom.

When she returned, Maggie noticed Julia had asked Angie to take her breakfast away—which was a shame, since an hour earlier, she’d been craving a good country breakfast.

But not now.

“I had her bring tea. That okay?” Julia said.

“Perfect. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Mags. This shit is going to get worse before it gets better. We just don’t need to get ahead of ourselves.”

“I can’t stand the thought of Max getting custody of the kids.”

Julia shook her head. “That will not happen. We’ll present to the judge that he abandoned his kids here, because he has a new family in Australia.

He will argue that he wants his family intact.

While he has broken no laws, his ethics and morals are questionable, and we will double down on that.

The other thing is the domestic violence charges that were never filed.

I know we discussed that, but I didn’t push it.

Technically, we could get a prosecutor to file charges against Max within two years of the event.

It’s a misdemeanor, but could mean jail time if he’s found liable.

Getting those charges filed while he is in the U.S.

for the divorce hearing could be a plus. I’m sure he wouldn’t expect it.”

Maggie exhaled, feeling a little better. “Let’s do that.”

“Great. I agree. I’ll get in touch with the right people, and we’ll go from there.”

“Okay. So, should we go over the divorce papers now?”

Julia reached for the file. “We should.” She opened the folder, handed Maggie a copy, and kept one for herself.

“North Carolina is a no-fault divorce state, but we can claim fault for an absolute divorce and seek separation support and maybe alimony. I’m suggesting we claim marital misconduct due to abandonment, illicit sexual behavior, and cruel and barbarous treatment endangering your life.

In North Carolina, you also have to be separated at least for a year—living apart—before the divorce is granted.

This is April, almost May, so you’re nearly five months in.

Under no circumstances is Max to come home and stay in that house overnight.

You can’t let that happen. Call a locksmith and get the locks changed as soon as possible.

We don’t want anything to trigger a reset on that length of time. ”

Maggie nodded. “Gotcha.”

“If you look further, you’ll see that I’m asking for equitable property distribution, spousal support, and full custody.

Max will pay health insurance for you for two years—allowing you enough time to find employment with benefits—and for the kids until they are out of college.

He will pay for their private schools and college expenses. ”

Maggie sighed. “Sounds like a lot.”

“You and the children deserve a lot.”

“There’s more, nitty-gritty details we can get into.” She glanced at the time.

Maggie figured there was. “What time is it?”

“Nearly eleven.”

“I have time. Let’s get it done.” She was ready to nail Max Oliver’s hide to the wall.

The drive back to Rocky Mount provided the space she needed to let her mind drift while cruising the highway.

She contemplated taking the longer way home, ditching the main road and traveling the narrow back roads, but then thought better of it.

While she had plenty of time before making the school pickups—she didn’t want to risk any delays or unexpected detours.

Still, she had an hour to process all that she and Julia had discussed. And after her chaotic and emotional day yesterday, she needed that time. Letting her mind simply go blank—not thinking of anything in particular at all—was a welcome change.

It all boiled down to one thing: the children were her priority.

Her uppermost goal was to see that they were loved, safe, protected, emotionally secure, and had their needs met. They were all going to lower their standards somewhat, as this fight with Max rolled on, and she was going to have to soften that blow to make things easier for them.

Plus, she had her marching orders from Julia:

Change the locks on the house.

Keep Max out, no overnight stays.

“No comment” to anyone who asks about Max or the divorce.

No conversations with Max. Period.

Keep life stress-free for the kids.

Keep her own nose clean—meaning nothing to suggest she was a less than stellar mother, wife, general good person, and upstanding citizen.

A lot to live up to. Hopefully, some of her past transgressions would not come back to haunt her.

Her phone rang and Carol’s name popped up on the navigation screen on her dashboard.

She pressed to answer. “Sweetheart? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom. But you’re not home.”

Does that mean she is? “No, I’m not honey. Why?”

“Well, I’m here and—”

Maggie interrupted. “Carol, why are you home from school this time of day?”

“We had early release today, Mom. I’m here and so is Logan and….”

Maggie jumped in again. Two things abruptly hit her. “Wait. Did the littles have early release too?” Shit. Were they waiting for her? Was she suddenly failing in the stellar mom category?

“Just high school.”

“Good.” Her shoulders suddenly relaxed. “I met Julia for breakfast at a diner between home and the beach. On my way back now. But what’s this about Logan?”

“I’m trying, Mom. I really am. I know Logan is not supposed to be here if you are not home—but I thought you would be. He picked me up from school and we got a pizza and wings for lunch and came over here to eat them before he goes to work. But when you weren’t here, I called you.”

She really was trying. Wasn’t she?

“Mom?”

“It’s fine, sweetheart. You can’t eat wings and pizza in the driveway. Go on in and don’t trip the alarm. Remember your code? I’ll be home after I run a few errands.”

“Okay, thanks! See you soon, Mom.”

“Save me a piece of pizza. Looking forward to chatting with Logan.”

There was a slight pause. “Oh, he has to be at work by two today.”

“Okay. Another time. And Carol?”

“Yes?”

“Stay downstairs.”

“Right.”

Who am I kidding?

1996

“Did you have sex with that boy?”

Mary Margaret stared across the room at her mother sitting on the sofa. They were all in the family room—Jack, her mom, and her aunt Phoebe—watching The Price is Right. Thank God her dad was still at work.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, still looking at the TV.

“That boy you’ve been seeing. Have you had sex with him? You’re late.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mom, I’m always late. My periods are weird.”

“You’re over a week late.”

She finally turned and met her mother’s gaze. “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“Yes, we do. I want witnesses.”

“Oh, fucking hell, Mom!”

Her mother jumped up. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Mary Margaret Brennan. You’re not allowed to cuss.”

She’d had about enough. Slowly, she kicked the footstool in the recliner and sat straight up. Looking square into her mother’s face, she yelled, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

Aunt Phoebe laughed out loud. Jack hid his smile.

“You goddamned little slut.”

“Well, you always call me that, so guess I should just be one.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“No. I’m not pregnant. I’m late.”

“Have you had sex with that boy, Mary Margaret?”

For once, she felt like she had the upper hand. I have information that you want, and I don’t have to give it to you. That’s for me to know and you to find out. “Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?”

Her mother scowled, and Mary Margaret thought she might pop her eyeballs out of their sockets. “You need to break up with that boy before he gets into your pants and knocks you up.”

Mary Margaret glared. “I’m taking a walk.”

“You better be home before dark.”

“Jesus, Mom, I’m sixteen and it’s summer.” She headed for the kitchen.

Her mom yelled after her. “Going to go have sex with that boy? Go on, slut. That’s what sluts do. Spread their legs for any boy that comes along.”

“Mom,” Jack said, “That was harsh.”

Mary Margaret stood in the kitchen, stone still. She’d not spread her legs for any boy yet, but maybe she just might. And maybe it would be tonight. My body, my choice! Whirling back, she rushed back into the family room and met her mother’s stare.

“That boy has a name. It’s Kevin. He is my boyfriend. And if I want to spread my legs for him, I goddamn will. And it’s none of your fucking business!”