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

stomach twisted up in knots; she hoped he ached too. She reached across the table and touched his hand. Her hand trembled and she yanked it back.

“You know, I made a mistake and I kick myself every day. I should have settled things with her when she left, but, instead, I did nothing. And you know what it got me? Her word against mine, and frankly, right now; she has me by the balls.” Brad leaned back and tapped his hand on the table. The waitress arrived with their coffee and Trevor’s juice.

“Thank you.”

She only nodded as she walked away.

Brad ripped off the paper surrounding the straw and dunked it in Trevor’s apple juice.

Emily studied the man. What was he talking about?

His face flushed. “Sorry, Em, I didn’t mean to be so graphic.” He waved his hand for her to forget it and slurped his coffee. “You don’t need this crap; you have your own struggles. I feel pretty low about how you got dragged into the middle of this shit, her shit, and how she treated you and Katy.”

Her ears were ringing and the room didn’t quite look right. She sucked in a deep breath, and then another. She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. So she closed her mouth. He then reached for her hand as something similar to worry transformed those hard brown eyes.

Emily snatched her hand back. “Brad, you need to stop. I don’t understand. What the hell are you talking about? How does she have you by the balls? What’s going on? No more games. I swear to God; I feel as if you two crammed me into a shooting gallery, at a carnival, and I’m the target.”

Gobs of blue dripped out of Trevor’s mouth. He’d found a crayon and was now chewing the paper off along with bits of the crayon. Emily reached across the table. “Trevor, no—spit it out.”

Brad jammed his fingers into Trevor’s mouth and pulled out what was left of the blue crayon then used a napkin to wipe his face. Emily made sure, this time, she’d confiscated all the crayons. Trevor whined and reached for the crayons which, of course, he wanted back. “Brad, more crackers.” Emily wiped the bits of crayon and spit off the table as Brad dumped a pile of crackers in front of Trevor. “Here give me that.” Emily took the soiled napkins and dumped them in the garbage by the door.

She felt grounded when she slid back in her seat. Trevor ate his crackers and swung his legs knocking the bottom of the booth, thud, thud. They’d better hurry. His crackers were almost gone.

Brad tapped his hand on the back of the booth. His face colored. “I never should have let her back in. That was my mistake. Since I never filed for legal separation or abandonment of Trevor—full custody...” He threw his hands in the air and leaned back. “Let’s just say; she’s one smart B…” He almost said it but caught himself before the vulgar word slipped.

He glanced over at the waitress who raised her eyebrows from where she lingered behind the cappuccino machine. “She’d seen a lawyer and had a plan in place before she ever walked back into my house. She knew exactly what to say and do. I screwed up. And I can’t force her to leave. I’m the one that has to leave if I want a separation. And I can’t take Trevor. She said I threatened and abused her and threw her out after Trevor was born; that she suffered from depression, didn’t know her rights. Now, she’s back because Trevor’s autistic. She’s threatening to take him because this therapy is abusive. She believes because he was born this way, he is to live this way. He needs to be respected for who he is. She’s even gone so far as putting him on a waiting list for an institution in California, specializing in autistic children. She’s using Trevor; for what reason, I don’t know yet. But I can’t, no I won’t, let her do that to my little boy.” His eyes filled with tears as he placed his hand protectively on top of Trevor’s head.

Emily wanted to leap up, race out to the ranch and give the woman a tongue lashing. “What do you mean she’s threatened to take Trevor? She can’t handle him. An institution, what the hell… She can’t do that!” Emily slammed both hands on the table.

Brad grabbed her arms, jerked her forward. The man and woman across the room watched and whispered behind their hands. “Calm down, Em. I won’t let her get away with it.”

Emily lowered her voice, shooting a meaningful glance at Trevor. “I’m sorry, Brad, but what the hell does she think she’s doing? She hasn’t spent any time with him. She avoids him. Her body language alone screams out how uncomfortable she is around him. She doesn’t know him; she can’t stand to be in the same room with him and he picks up on that.”

“She can’t fake motherly concern. He won’t respond to her. She freaks him out. I don’t understand why anyone would stoop that low. She’s his mother; doesn’t she want what’s best for him?” Emily couldn’t hold back the venom. She tried—she really did. She’d always tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt; hadn’t she? But this was too much. Trevor wasn’t hers. But she wanted him to be.

“Em, you’re right, but I need to think of Trevor. I already got raked over the coals by my lawyer. I need to listen to him. Follow what he says to win this and get her out of my life.”

Understanding what really happened didn’t make the hurt any less. How long had the woman planned to drive a wedge between her and Brad? It was odd if you thought about it. Her timing in coming home; just when she and Brad had developed a closeness. They’d almost consummated their relationship. She winced as her mind dreamed up “what ifs” and “what might have been.” “Brad, I’m so sorry. I should have known better. Please, is there anything I can do?”

Brad clammed up and looked away. He reached for his wallet, threw a ten on the table.

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.” Emily snatched her groceries and slid out. Brad followed with Trevor. The sun dipped lower, but it was still nice and warm. Emily stopped and faced Brad. “Thanks for the coffee and for buying my groceries.” She didn’t want to walk away. She hated these awkward moments, and smiled one of those tense awkward smiles. Emily squatted in front of Trevor. “Bye, Trevor.” He stared at the ground. He made no notice of her. Did he know she was even there? “He’s regressed.” Emily stood and didn’t miss the way Brad flinched. “You know, Brad; I’ve stayed silent about a lot of things. But Trevor deserves better than to be victimized because of a greedy, selfish mother. Look at him.”

Brad flushed and touched the top of Trevor’s head. “I know, Em, but I promise you, I’ll start his therapy again. I know you’re right. She’s fighting me right now.”

“She’s wrong, Brad.” Tears misted, blurring Brad. “To not help any child, to deny them therapy is cruel. Would you deny a child with cancer his treatment?”

“That’s not the same, Em. A child with cancer is fighting for their life.”

She wanted to hit him. “What kind of life will Trevor have if he can’t function?” Brad squeezed her shoulder. His eyes turned kinder.

“Hey, hey, Em, I know what you’re saying. And I love your passion. You showed me, remember? And you did everything you could to help Trevor. And I promise you I’ll win. Remember your words, ‘don’t give up.’”

He was still touching her. And that touch was doing all kinds of weird things to her resolve. He was under her skin. He managed to make every part of her hot and cold, anxious, happy, and wanting to leap up to the moon. After the hurt and pain he'd caused her; why did he still affect her so? “I should go.” He dropped his hand, but neither turned away. So, finally, Emily looked down, shifted her grocery bag to the other hand and backed away.

“Em.” He called out. “Are you walking?”

“It’s only a few blocks.” Emily waved her hand and backed away.

“Jump in. I’ll give you a ride.” Brad gestured to his dark blue one-ton.

He stepped toward her, one step, two steps. He wasn’t giving her a choice. “Alright.”

Brad shoved Trevor’s booster to the middle and buckled him in. He placed Emily’s groceries in the back of the truck. Emily climbed in beside Trevor, Brad closed her door and strode around the front of the truck, waving to a couple walking who smiled and waved back. Brad climbed in and said nothing as he placed his arm along the back of the seat; his fingers brushed Emily’s shoulder as he backed up. The touch lingered, distracted so she didn’t realize Brad hadn’t asked where she lived. In fact, he knew where to turn. “How’d you know where I live?” She pointed out the window and Brad pulled in front of her house.

He shut off the truck, winked when he finally faced her. “I asked around. Not many places to rent, Em. You were easy to find.”

Her mouth opened to say something. But she couldn’t put two sensible words together. She glanced out her window and laughed until tears glistened. She touched Trevor’s arm beside her, and he watched her for the first time today. “Can you come in for a while?” Trevor kicked his legs back and forth; he was reaching for her now. “Please.” He glanced out his window.

“Sure.”

Thrilled, she wanted to bounce up and down on her seat and clap her hands like a little kid. But she didn’t. And she didn’t try to hide the easy smile that lifted her up. However, she shoved that cynical protective voice that piped up, bad idea, away in that locked cubby where she’d shoved her self-esteem and self-worth for so many years. Damn it all to hell, she wanted this time with him. And she’d take every minute she could get.

Emily unbuckled Trevor, and Brad grabbed Emily’s groceries. She led the way into her tiny neat bungalow. She wiggled the lock that frequently