The Forgotten Child, Lorhainne Eckhart [bearly read books txt] 📗

Keith looked like hell. His dark hair was sticking up in clumps, he had a two-day beard, and he was pale—with a bright red nose. Jenny, Keith’s high school sweetheart, and his now short and plump wife, frowned from the kitchen when Keith led Brad into his home office with a box of Kleenex tucked under his arm. He zipped his dark blue hoodie up and sank down on a brown leather chair scooting closer to the desk. Brad sat across from him and handed him the letter from Crystal’s lawyer. Keith plucked out a few tissues, blew his nose and dumped the wet tissues in a pile on his desk. After he’d adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his blood shot eyes appeared to wither right before Brad eyes. “I’m sick and my head’s pounding; so let’s not mince words. You fucked up, Brad. You should have filed for legal separation and full custody of Trevor when Crystal walked out. I told you then.”

Keith waved the letter in the air as he continued. “I’ve heard of this guy. He’s slimy and underhanded. They’ve created quite the tale. You forced Crystal out of the house when Trevor was a baby; while she struggled in a bottomless pit of sorrow with postpartum depression.” Keith flicked the letter with this finger. “This part’s my favorite. You hid her child from her and kept her from seeing Trevor. You told her that she had no rights and had to do everything you said—when you said it. Now with Trevor being diagnosed with autism, her only interest is to make sure Trevor’s respected for who he is. He was born this way and should be left this way; it’s who he is. Also, she’ll not allow you to experiment with her child, engaging him in a therapy that is cruel, abusive and isolates him.”

“Is there a possibility she can win?”

“Absolutely.” Keith tossed down the letter, grabbed a wad of Kleenex, and blew his stuffed up nose. “So what happened to your hand?”

Brad glanced down at the dried blood on his knuckle. He squeezed his fist and winced. “I lost my temper and put my fist through the wall above the bitch’s head.”

Keith didn’t move, but his bloodshot eyes took on that stern parents look. The one you get when you screwed up big time.

“I know it was stupid, but, dammit, look what the conniving bitch is doing.”

“You better pull your head out of your ass. I can guarantee you right now, that if she didn’t call the cops, she’s taking pictures for her lawyer. And she’ll play this up. You’re building her case for her.”

“She’s dragged Emily into this. She said if there was any inappropriate behavior with Emily; she’d take action against me. How does she even know about Emily?”

Keith coughed and leaned back in his seat. He held up the flat of his hand. “Are you involved with this woman?”

Brad’s face colored. He fidgeted in the straight back chair. “I hired her to look after Trevor and to cook; but, I have to tell you, this woman’s amazing. She helped me see that there was something wrong with Trevor. She researched autism, contacted a parents group, and helped me to see his symptoms. She helped me connect with the right people to get him diagnosed and to start intervention. She helped me understand my kid. She fought for Trevor, who’s not even her kid. She’s taught me to not give up, and how to advocate in order to help Trevor. She showed me the chance my kid has for a potentially bright future. She has so much love and compassion flowing through her veins. I think she’s the most beautiful, selfless woman out there.” Brad realized he was nearly shouting.

“So you’re in love with her and she works for you. Kind of like the servant and the master. You sleeping with her?”

Brad nearly came out of his chair, but instead he slammed his fist down; knocking over the pencil holder on the exceptionally neat desk.

Keith calmly picked up the dark green plastic holder, pushed aside a stack of bills, clearing the desk so the only thing on it was his box of tissue. Keith rested his arms on his desktop then glanced at the open door. Frowning, he casually glanced back at Brad. “You were a player with the ladies all through high school. I watched you when you chased Crystal around, your head shoved so far up your ass you couldn’t see how she’d lead you around by the nose hairs. Just so you could have some hot filly hanging off your arm. To you it was just looks, always going for the same type, a blonde bimbo whose only interest was your bank account and their own pretty ass. What the fuck are you doing?”

It was as if a light bulb blinked on and Brad was ashamed. He’d allowed his feelings for Emily lead him. He’d pushed aside the little voice warning him to leave her alone. But he wanted her and the sparks between them were off the charts. But not in a got-to-get-you-into-bed, purely physical way, like it had been with Crystal. With Emily, it was deeper. Something he’d never experienced, nor thought possible. He wanted something real with her, and right now, he saw it being snatched away. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Yeah, well let me give you a little advice. Whatever you’re doing with this lady—you end it now. You’ve got enough trouble in your backyard you need to clean up first. Let me paint you a picture. You’re standing in front of a judge. Your whole relationship with the lady will be the focus, after, of course, you’re painted as an abusive, violent man who can’t control his temper; who threw out a postpartum woman who was terrified of you and your threats and didn’t believe she had any rights. And yes, she may have behaved badly, using your money. But she didn’t know what to do. You separated her from her baby, who is also being diagnosed, as we speak, with autism. You don’t tell the mother, and she’s devastated when she finds out; giving her the strength to stand up to you. Meanwhile, back at the farm, you’ve paid a woman to move in and cook for you, look after Crystal’s child and warm your bed at night. She’s there at your beck and call, tending to all your needs. But it’s not a relationship. She’s an employee you pay, and to add to that, her small child is watching all of this behavior. I hope you’re following how this is going to look to a judge. A powerful man with no respect for women—women he has to have on his terms, his way. Get the picture?”

“That is absolute bullshit!” Brad shouted again. This time Keith got up and closed the door.

“It’s not about the truth, Brad, it’s about the law and who can put the best spin on the situation. And you’re playing right into Crystal and her lawyer’s hands.”

Brad needed to defend himself—to get Keith to understand the truth. The picture he painted was ugly and not what happened, not really. But he was Emily’s boss. And he did almost sleep with her. If Katy hadn’t wakened, he would have had Emily in bed and under him, doing all manner of loving with her all night. So really, it was a good thing they were interrupted, no harm done, no regrets. Right? “So, now what? What do I do?”

Keith didn’t sit. He wandered over to the large window and gazed out at his horses, in the paddock, as they grazed on the green grass. “You behave yourself. Stay away from Crystal and Emily. No more hanky-panky with the lady. Control your temper. Sleep in another room, preferably not the house. You give Crystal nothing to work with. And I’ll file for legal separation, with a motion for divorce, and petition the court for sole custody of Trevor. I’ll ask the judge to order Crystal out of the house. But this’ll take time. And from now on Brad, you call me first before doing any more stupid, hotheaded moves. Because if you raise your hand at Crystal again, she can call the sheriff, have you removed from the property with a restraining order against you. She’ll keep Trevor and your property, she can drag this out for years; putting her in a position of power—the judge will throw the book at you.”

So, Brad sat alone in the dark, thinking back to that awful day Crystal came home, his gut all mashed up as if shot through a meat grinder. He struggled with his painful decision. If it had just been the ranch, he’d have called Crystal’s bluff. But he couldn’t gamble with his little boy’s future. The innocent little boy he loved more than his next breath.

It was better this way—better if Emily left. He could no longer stand by and watch her dragged through the mud. It had nearly broken his heart to see her the last few days. He’d done his best to protect her. He’d warned Crystal to leave her alone, even going so far as to bargain with the devil herself. He’d stay away from Emily, but Crystal was to as well. Emily was there to care for Trevor and cook. Crystal made it a point to touch, caress and fling herself at Brad every time Emily walked in. And Brad didn’t miss the beaten down look that haunted Emily, crushing her vibrant spirit.

This was all Brad’s fault. He’d screwed up. And in the darkness, his back to the rough barn wall, he wept; furious at God, in that moment, for all the injustices in life, and why it had to be so damn hard.