I could almost feel her pinning me with her disapproving stare. “You know, you’re not just hurting Richard with this boycott. You’re hurting me, and you’re hurting your grandmother. She doesn’t understand why you’re not there. She gets more confused by the day, and I don’t know how much more time you’ll have with her. Are you really willing to sacrifice that for this…this petty disagreement?”
I barked out an incredulous laugh. “Petty disagreement? Is that a joke?”
I could picture her throwing up her hands. “He made a mistake. And no matter how you feel about that, Richard is my husband now and he wants to get to know you—”
“I have absolutely no desire to allow him to do any such thing. He’s not good enough for you. You should have never married him after what he did.”
She paused for a long beat.
“Maybe one day you’ll need forgiveness, Adrian. And someone will give it to you.”
We fell into a silence.
She was crying. I could hear her sniffling on the other end of the line. I pulled into my space in the parking garage under my building and put the car in park.
I’d been close to my mom before this. Before him. I took care of her—I’d always taken care of her. I’d done it since I was fifteen years old and my piece-of-shit dad walked out on us. Normally I was over there every Sunday for dinner with her and Grandma. I paid for repairs on the house, drove Grandma to the doctor.
Then Mom had her whirlwind romance.
That was already bad enough, but then he moved them to fucking Nebraska.
The situation was getting progressively worse and since it didn’t look like Richard was bailing or Mom was gearing up to leave him, apparently I had to be the one to be flexible. Either that or I could kiss my family goodbye. These were the choices.
And they were impossible.
She blew her nose.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Can we just talk about something else?”
“Adrian, I know this has been hard. Maybe you should see someone—”
“No. Me spending two hundred dollars an hour on a therapist isn’t going to make me feel any different about this.”
She sniffed. “Well then. I guess we don’t have anything left to discuss. You call me when you’ve decided what’s important to you.”
She hung up on me.
I sat in the car, pinching the bridge of my nose for a solid minute before I dragged myself out.
When I got back to my building, I collected my mail in the lobby and took the stairs up. I was one staircase from my floor when I heard the screaming.
A woman.
I paused on the landing, trying to determine if it was coming from up or down.
Up.
My floor.
I took the steps two at a time and pushed out into the hallway.
A bored-looking young man in a peacoat and scarf stood scrolling through his phone next to a short blond woman in a gray hoodie. A second man was wedged halfway into Vanessa’s apartment.
“Let go!” Vanessa screamed, from inside. “I’m calling the cops!”
“Hey!” I shouted.
Everyone froze. I walked purposefully toward them, and the man let go of the knob and took a step back. He was older. Probably fifties. White, salt-and-pepper hair, bushy eyebrows, argyle sweater under a blazer.
The woman was high. Pupils the size of marbles.
Vanessa peered out into the hallway from the crack in the door. Her lip was bleeding.
My jaw flexed. “Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, glowering down at the older man.
He looked me up and down. “This is none of your business, fancy hall cop. We don’t need your assistance. Stay out of it.” He looked back at Vanessa. “We have every right to see her!” he said, jabbing a finger at her.
Vanessa jutted up her chin. “Uh, no. You actually don’t. I’ve been awarded temporary guardianship. If Annabel wants to see her daughter, bring her back when she’s clean.”
The younger man let out an impatient huff. “Okay, Vanessa? I’m just here for that Gucci backpack you promised me? If you hand it through the door, I can be one less person in this hallway.”
“Fuck off, Brent!”
His mouth dropped open. “Why are you mad at me? I only came with them for the ride!”
“You shouldn’t have let them come at all!” Vanessa snapped.
He crossed his arms. “Are you pissed because I’m not helping with the baby? Is that what it is? I have a very sensitive gag reflex, Vanessa, I cannot do poopy diapers. Remember that time you ordered that Greek salad at Nico’s and the feta made me throw up in that planter?”
Vanessa gave him crazy eyes. “Brent, take. Them. Home.”
“He will do no such thing! Not until we see Grace!” the older man barked. “This is kidnapping!”
Brent scoffed. “Um, but it’s actually not?” He crossed his arms. “Can we just go? This is so not dignified.”
The older man looked like he was about to make for the door again. I took another step to put myself between him and Vanessa, and he shrank away from me. I was in a suit and tie, but I was still six-two and well aware of how intimidating I could look if I didn’t smile. “If you’re a noncustodial parent, any visitation needs to be scheduled with the court.”
The older man puffed his chest. “We’re not going until we see the baby, and that’s final!” he said, glowering up at me.
“Okay. Let’s get the police over here to work this out.” I nodded at the woman. “She’s clearly under the influence. And I’ll make sure to mention that I saw you trying to forcefully make your way into the apartment. Vanessa’s bleeding, so I’m assuming an assault and battery has taken place, at which point I’d advise she press charges and get a restraining order. And she will get it. Then your visitation, which you likely won’t be awarded, will be supervised and will have to take place at the sheriff’s station.” I looked at him sternly. “Something tells me the two of you wouldn’t do well in a sheriff’s station.”
He stood there looking up at me defiantly, and the blond woman looked like she wasn’t even processing what was going on.
Brent was smiling at me like he’d just fully acknowledged that I was here. He put a hand on the side of his mouth. “Are you seeing this? How hot this is?” he stage-whispered to Vanessa, who was still peeking through the door. “And that’s a really expensive Armani suit.”
I ignored him.
The older man straightened and tugged the bottom of his jacket down indignantly. “Fine.” He shot a look back at Vanessa. “We know where we’re not wanted.”
He didn’t look me in the eye as he edged down the hall dragging the blond woman by the sleeve. Brent paused a moment before following them. “Love the tie.”
Then he was gone too.
I turned back to Vanessa. She blinked at me with wide eyes for a second—then slammed the door in my face.
I was still standing there looking at her apartment number when she opened the door. “Thank you,” she said quickly.
And then she slammed it again.
Okay…
I waited a few moments to make sure whoever the hell those people were didn’t come back.
They didn’t.