Page 86 of So Much More
“It’s absolutely necessary. Walter deserves nothing after the way he’s treated your entire family, and we’ll make him pay. And if the fee is on the line, my team will work that much harder for you.”
Mom, Ash, Samuel Bernard, and I are sitting in a conference room in an office building owned by one of Samuel’s friends. We decided a neutral location was best, as we didn’t want anyone seeing Mom and Samuel together and potentially tipping Dad off to what’s coming. We need to get all our ducks in a row before he gets wind of anything.
“We’ll get a private investigator onto him this weekend,” Samuel says, “since you think he’s with the secretary again. We’ll do our best to get photographic proof of the affair over the course of the next few weeks before we file.”
Mom says, “I don’t want to see the photos.”
“You probably won’t have to,” he assures her.
“Good. Now, about the house,” Mom says. “Ash told me I shouldn’t move out, or I lose power in negotiating, right?”
“Yes. And unfortunately, you can’t kick Walter out, since his name is on the deed. You’re going to have to keep living with him for the time being, because I can guarantee he won’t move out, either, for the same reason.”
“What if I have proof of verbal abuse and threats?”
“What?”Ash and I say in unison.
“Calm down, boys.” Mom flaps her hand at us.
“I’m not going to calm down,” I say. “Dad threatened you? When? How?”
“I’m going to kill him,” Ash says.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Samuel tells my brother with a wry look.
“He has never actually hit me,” Mom explains, “although he’s come close a few times, and threats have become a regular occurrence.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ash mutters.
“You say you have proof of these threats?” Samuel asks.
Mom reaches into her purse, pulls out a mini cassette of the type found in answering machines, and slides it across the table to Samuel.
“Dad was dumb enough to threaten you on tape?” I say. “He must be slipping.”
“He was drunk. When I got home from dinner with you boys last week, I had a message from him on my private line at home. He demanded to know why I wasn’t home and answering my phone, and he said if he found out I’d been with you two, there’d be hell to pay. And he described exactly what that would be.” She looks at Samuel. “Does it matter that he was drunk when he said it? Does that invalidate it?”
“If anything, it could make things worse for him.” Samuel sticks the tape into his briefcase. “I’ll make a copy of this for you, in case this one disappears.”
“Will that be enough to get him out of the house?” Mom asks.
“Yes. We’ll file an Order of Protection. He’ll fight it, but with this tape, we’ll win that battle.”
Is it bad that I’m happy something good will come of my father’s threats?
Mom says, “The last thing I need us to discuss today is Sonya. She won’t be eighteen until February.”
“We’ll may still be dealing with all this then,” Samuel says, “but if it gets settled more quickly than I think it might, do you think he’ll fight for custody?”
“He’s never shown much interest in the girls, but he’ll probably fight for her just to be contrary.”
“The threats against you should help here, too. Add to that the fact that mothers typically win custody cases, and you’ll be fine.”
* * *
“Today’s meeting went better than expected,” I say to Ash over dinner. Since we can’t go to McConnell’s anymore, and because I’ve given up drinking for now, we’re at Pat’s Diner, where Wendy and I had ice cream last week.
“Mostly thanks to a drunken mistake,” Ash says.
