Page 31

Twenty-Four

WHEN SCOTT TOLD Abby what his lawyer had said later that night, after Dylan had gone to bed, she couldn’t help wondering what drove a person to such lengths.

Was his ex-wife really doing all of this to ruin Scott’s happiness?

And, if so, how long could Scott hold out in the face of such an attack?

How long could he continue choosing to be with her, knowing it might cost him his son?

Because, if it ever came to a direct choice between them, he’d pick Dylan. As he should.

She pushed the niggling doubt this thought left in its wake aside, but once acknowledged, she couldn’t shake it.

“I never thought a three-and-two record could be a relief to talk about,” she joked, trying to change the subject, to lighten the mood.

“Me, either.” Scott’s voice flattened. “Coach wasn’t happy I missed this morning, but at least the Raptors are supportive, and they understand my family has to come first. Still, it’s like I have to play twice as well, now, to prove it isn’t impacting my game.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Welcome to what it’s like to be a woman. ‘Except backward and in high heels’.”

Scott raised his brows.

“Someone said it once about Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. She did everything he did, except backwards and in high heels.”

“Now, imagine that on a football field,” Scott replied, eyes dancing.

Abby paused and cocked her head, taking a moment to visualize the ensuing chaos. “Finn would rock some Louboutin’s, though. Those red soles? He’d be all over that.”

“Oh, my gosh, I am texting him right now .” Scott lurched for his cell phone and held it up like a trophy before pecking at the screen.

“Fine, but I bet Kelly agrees with me.” Laughing too hard to fight him for the phone, his first smile in weeks made it worthwhile.

Scott’s phone pinged and he took a moment to read the message before dissolving into whoops of laughter. Not yet recovered, Abby turned the screen toward her and read the message through bleary eyes. “Manolo Blahniks? What even...?” And then she, too, lost it again.

Gen, curious, padded down the stairs from Dylan’s room and, toenails clicking across the floor, came to gaze up at Abby and Scott, as if to ask why they had gone bonkers, and did this fall under her job description as a therapy dog?

“Good girl,” Abby gasped. “You’re a good girl, Gen.”

Scott, catching his breath, leaned over to scratch the dog under the chin. “She sure is. Hey, maybe if Dylan took her to the next hearing Lindsay would be so scared, she’d run away.”

She thought he meant it as a joke, but both of them sobered.

“I know why she growled at Lindsay. I wanted to myself.” Abby sighed. “But she shouldn’t have. I mean, she wasn’t working, but still...”

Scott rested his arm over her shoulders. “It’ll be fine. Like you said, she wasn’t working, and you and Dylan were both upset... She couldn’t help reacting to all the stress.”

Abby picked at a fingernail. “Yeah, but what if she reacts that way again? What if she does it at the hospital? Dogs pattern fast; once might be all it takes for her to think it’s okay...”

“Hey,” he interrupted, pulling her into his side. “We’ll worry about it if it happens. Once isn’t a pattern—not yet—and I’m sure she’ll never do it again.”

“She hasn’t been herself, you know? The hotspots, but they were so weird this year, and then being off her food, and sometimes she doesn’t want to go running with me.”

“I thought the vet gave her a clean bill of health.”

“He did. But then I keep second-guessing myself. Something comes up, and I think I should take her in, then it goes away. I’m worrying too much, that’s all.”

“You love her. We worry when we love someone.” Scott laughed.

“I remember the first time Dylan caught a cold. It had been going around the daycare, a little sniffle, but he woke up one morning with this smear of snot across his whole cheek and this yellow line running out of one nostril and I’m pretty sure I about called an ambulance. ”

“Ewww, that is so gross.”

“Really? Ewww? You deal with IV’s and blood and stuff all day long.” He squinted at her.

“Don’t forget catheter bags.”

“And on that note... Anyway. He was fine, of course. Didn’t even need antibiotics.

” He frowned. “Another time, certain it was nothing – maybe teething? I waited and waited to take him in. I only did because I had a game, and I didn’t want him to end up sick with the nanny.

Poor kid had a double ear infection and strep.

I thought I’d locked up the award for the worst father ever. ”

He’d told the story to be funny, to make her laugh, but it struck something deeper in her than amusement. “See, sometimes something is wrong.”

Scott turned toward her, lifting her chin so they could lock eyes. “You’re right, sometimes there is. Would it reassure you to take her in? To tell the vet everything and know for sure she’s fine?” At her quiet yeah , he nodded. “Then we’ll do it tomorrow.”

Except tomorrow came and they didn’t. Abby spent the next several days at the hospital; Liam had been admitted again, making eight times so far this year.

Scott had practice, then Dylan had school, and band, and soccer, then another away game.

This time, Dylan stayed home with Lauren and Abby came to their place, instead.

They won again, a solid streak, now, with four in a row, and Scott played well—better than the previous week when the hearing the following morning had been looming over his head.

The next two games were at home, so Abby and Dylan spent them together at the stadium and went out for dinner afterwards with Finn and Kelly, too.

Once, Jordan joined them. Young, unattached, and far from his parents, Abby loved how Scott and Finn took him under their wing. They made sure the team became his family, with Jordan, as the little brother, trying to survive his rookie year.

Abby made good on her personal promise to encourage Scott to get out more with his teammates and friends, though she couldn’t be upset when he chose to spend what precious little extra time he had with her and Dylan.

Liam’s kidneys were failing, but they didn’t want to put him on dialysis yet. They tried a transfusion, which helped for a few days, but then the toxins in his kidneys began building up again.

Some days, Abby spent all hours at the hospital with Liam, Ethan, and their family, supporting Cara and Linda and the other nurses, waiting as the doctors considered first one treatment, then another. Then, she went home, or, more often, to Scott’s, and she got to be a whole different person.

No longer somber and quiet, or endlessly upbeat and positive, she could be her real self – doubts, stresses, strains, and all.

Gen, equally exhausted by their long days, flopped onto Dylan’s bed with him and slept until Abby came up to get her.

The guardian ad litem that had been appointed by the court contacted Scott.

She’d already spoken to Lauren and most of Dylan’s teachers, but she still needed to interview Scott and Lindsay.

She wanted to speak with Abby, too. The psychologist also contacted Scott, but he lived in New York and would have to find time to fly down.

Scott offered to do a telephone evaluation, hoping to save himself the hassle of meeting with the man, but he’d been insistent on a face-to-face.

In no particular rush to change the custody arrangements, Scott had acquiesced.

“I’m Ruth Weiring. As you may know, I’ve been appointed to help the court decide the best course of action for amending the custody agreement for Dylan Edwards.

I’m not here to take sides; my sole purpose is to consider the best interests of the child in question and make a recommendation to Judge Farmer.

” The guardian ad litem ’s words were professional, and though firm, she expressed a sense of fairness that should have reassured Abby.

Still, she couldn’t comprehend what purpose interviewing her could serve.

The woman waited for an answer, so Abby nodded, fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt. “I understand.”

“Let’s start with how you got to know Scott and Dylan.” The guardian locked eyes with Abby, her full attention absorbed by the conversation between them.

“Uh, well, I first met them last spring,” Abby explained.

“Dylan had fallen off the monkey bars and broken his arm...” She told the story, smiling as she recalled Scott chasing her through the park to give her jacket back, their awkward exchange of information, and her chagrin at being asked on a thank-you date.

Then, she talked about how Dylan had showed up on her doorstep several weeks later.

“So, he felt safe with you?”

Abby considered before answering. She didn’t want to imply he hadn’t felt safe with Scott. “I think he remembered I’d taken good care of him when he first broke his arm. He hoped I’d help take care of him again.”

“Because he didn’t trust his father would.”

“N... No. Nothing like that. Scott thought it was funny. I think most parents would. He didn’t catch on right away to Dylan’s.

.. worry.” She shied away from using the word fear .

“As soon as he did, though, he changed right away. He found a new doctor for Dylan, helped him understand the process, even let the doctor use the cast-saw on his thumb before using it on Dylan.” When the guardian blanched, Abby shook her head.

“It’s fine. You hold it at an angle and it tickles.

Most kids are scared of the saw, so it’s kind of standard practice. ”

“And what about later? I understand the two of you began dating in June?”

“Yes, although, we had kind of been dancing around each other for weeks beforehand. We did a lot of stuff all together, with Dylan, and my dog, Gen, too. I wasn’t.

.. I didn’t feel ready to date, yet, but I enjoyed spending time with them, and Scott’s such a good father.

..” She trailed off, unsure what else to say.

“Have you ever heard Scott talk about his ex-wife, Lindsay Meyers?”

Abby chewed her lip. “Before all this? Not at all, no. He thought it would be too much drama for me. And Dylan didn’t spend a lot of time with her, anyway.

Since,” she waved her hand to encompass the most recent events.

“We’ve talked. He’s told me a little more about what happened between them and how he feels, now. ”

“How does he feel?”

Abby’s gaze hardened as she studied the guardian. “I think that’s a question you should ask him.”

The guardian nodded, sat back, then continued, “What about in front of Dylan? Have you seen him discuss this situation with his son?”

“The situation? Yes,” Abby hedged. “His mom, no.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, they had to talk about his mom taking him from my place. He’s a pretty easy-going kid.

I’ve never seen him upset like that, before.

And he knows his mom and dad are back in court about his custody.

He’s smart, and he’s asked a lot of questions.

Scott always answers them honestly, but he’s careful not to say anything about how it’s going or about his mom. ”

“Can you give an example?”

Abby tipped her head to one side, rifling through remembered conversations.

“Dylan wanted to know why he couldn’t stay with me anymore when his dad had away games. Scott told him he and Lindsay were learning to co-parent in a new way, and that included respecting how his mom didn’t know me.”

“How did Dylan take that?”

Abby huffed a small laugh. Dylan’s response wouldn’t be judicious in this situation.

“He accepted it.”

“Has he promised Dylan that he can stay with him?”

Abby shook her head. “Scott tells him he has to be patient, and there are a lot of people who love Dylan very much, and we’re all trying to figure out what’s best for him. So far, he’s accepted that answer, too.”

“Has Dylan talked about wanting to live with his mom?”

Abby compressed her lips before a smile could sneak out. “No, he hasn’t.”

What he had said, a few nights ago as Abby had tucked the blankets around him and leaned down to brush his cheek with her own, had been, “I wish I could live with you and Gen instead of my mom.”

Abby hadn’t thought it wise to answer him then, nor did she think it prudent to say as much, now, but the memory warmed her heart, nonetheless.

She wished he could, too.