Hard Fall by Brenda Rothert
Chapter Twenty
Hadley
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, glancing at the clock as I sat down behind Ben’s desk in his office and joined a Zoom meeting with Liz. “Benny spit up all over his clothes right as our nanny was getting here.”
It was exactly four minutes after nine in the morning, and our one-on-one meeting had been scheduled for nine sharp. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but with Liz, there were no small deals.
“Jesus, Hadley, you look like shit.”
She cringed at my appearance, and I unconsciously reached up to smooth out my hair. I’d had just enough time to wash my face, moisturize while brushing my teeth, run a brush through my hair and pull it back in a ponytail. The days of blowing out my hair, putting on a full face of makeup and thinking about what I wore to the office were in the past. Yoga pants and a T-shirt were my work uniform these days.
“Yeah, the only video meeting I have today is this one,” I said to Liz, “so the natural look it is.”
She sighed softly and said, “Is beauty even part of your life anymore?”
My lips parted with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Willow is a lifestyle magazine, Hadley. A huge part of our focus is beauty. You used to come in bright and early every Monday morning raving about the new facial mask or flat iron you’d tried over the weekend.”
I wanted to laugh, though I wasn’t the least bit amused. When I worked in the office, I’d sat across from my boss’s desk as she complained about women “letting themselves go” after they’d had children. I’d even agreed with her at times, and now, fate was showing me what it felt like to be on the receiving end of her vapid bullshit.
“Liz, you wore a baseball cap to our Zoom meeting a couple Friday mornings ago. Why does it matter if I have my hair done when it’s just you and me?”
“I was going to a Mets game that afternoon, and I still had on makeup.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Did you get the pitch list I emailed you? I think there are several strong contenders for cover stories.”
Liz lowered her brows. “I’m not ready to start the meeting yet. We also need to discuss the fact that you were late.”
I wanted to slam my laptop screen down and take an extended break from Liz, but I’d worked hard over the past seven years at Willow, earning promotions in record time. I was the youngest associate editor the magazine had ever had and I wasn’t going to let Liz’s lack of interpersonal skills ruin everything for me.
“I was four minutes late, yes,” I said. “And I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t get snarky with me. I’ve bent over backward to help you since your friend died, but this isn’t working, Hadley. You asked me if you could work remotely while you figured things out to move your friend’s kids to New York. It’s been three months. You’re barely managing your workload. You’re one of our best, and I don’t want to let you go, but something has to give here. So when can I expect you back in the office?”
I fell against the back of Ben’s cushy desk chair, so shocked I couldn’t even breathe. “Let me go? Are you firing me?”
“I don’t want it to come to that. But I do need you back in the office full time.”
Full time.I wanted to laugh but this really wasn’t funny. Before Lauren died, I was in the office by seven every morning, and I never left before six. Many nights I just ate dinner at my desk and stayed until I needed to go home, take a shower and get some sleep. Then I did it all again the next day. My weekends were always mine, but I worked a minimum of sixty hours a week Monday through Friday. How could I do that now? I’d never see Annalise and Benny.
There was also the issue of moving to New York. I didn’t want to take the kids away from Wes. That had been my original plan, but the three months we’d been together had shown me how wrong I was. The kids adored Wes, and he loved them more than anything.
I needed Wes to get traded to New York. That was the only way I could keep my job and we could raise the kids together. We weren’t ever going to be an official, mad-about-each-other couple or anything, but what we had going now was enough for me.
Probably. But that was the least of my worries right now.
“I have a court hearing this afternoon about the kids,” I told Liz. “I’ll know more about my situation tomorrow. Can we talk about this then?”
“Sure.” Her expression softened. “I want this to work out, Hadley. You’re a real asset, but I just need a lot more of you than I’m getting right now.”
I’d seen Liz use this approach with other women at Willow. She was both the good cop and the bad cop, depending on her mood and what suited her. I’d watched her drive women out of their jobs because they needed time to process the death of a parent or they were struggling with depression after a divorce.
If they can’t keep up, no one can blame her for getting rid of them, I’d thought at the time.
But now it was me. I wanted to go back and apologize to all the women I hadn’t stood up for and been more supportive of, but I couldn’t do that right now, though. I was drowning in my own situation.
Wes and I were in danger of losing custody of the kids today. It was all I’d been able to think about since our meeting with the attorney. And while I’d been overwhelmed and completely out of my element when I’d started taking care of them, everything was different now.
I loved them. Not like before, as an auntie or a godmother who sent great gifts and played with them while visiting, but in a deeper, more authentic way I hadn’t known possible. I knew which of Benny’s cries meant whether he was tired, hungry or having teething pain. I knew Annalise’s favorite bedtime stories by heart. I’d always miss Lauren, but her children had filled the hole her loss left in my heart.
I couldn’t lose them.
“It’s chaos in that house,”Susan said sadly from the witness stand. “Always so loud, and no home-cooked meals. Wes and Hadley work all the time. My husband and I have time to take care of our grandchildren. And we’re their family.”
I tightened my death grip on Wes’s hand, not letting my feelings show on my face. Inside, though, I was raging. Susan Whitmer was shameless, putting on a pathetic performance in an effort to overturn her own son and daughter-in-law’s will.
“So it’s a lack of stability you’re concerned about?” Patrick and Susan’s lawyer was asking all the right questions to paint Wes and I in a negative light. I wanted to punch him in the face.
“Yes, exactly. Wes and Hadley are just living in Ben and Lauren’s house, with no plan for which of them is going to raise the children. Patrick and I don’t know which of them will be taking the kids, or where they’ll be taking them, or when they’ll be doing it. We think the children need to be settled into their new normal as soon as possible.”
I wanted to throw something at her, and from the tight set of Wes’s jaw, I was pretty sure he felt the same way. She was being completely unfair. Three months isn’t that much time when you’re grieving and working and caring for children.
“And should you be granted temporary custody today, will you be taking the children back to your home in California?” Susan’s attorney asked her.
“No, we’ll stay in St. Louis for now, preferably at Ben and Lauren’s home. We want to keep Annalise at her current preschool.”
The whole hearing was an absolute nightmare. The effort Wes and I had made to create stability for the kids had been painted as self-serving by the Whitmers’ attorney, suggesting that the reason we hadn’t decided who would raise the kids was that neither of us wanted the responsibility. He’d shown the judge Wes’s travel schedule, saying he could never be a full-time parent. Our attorney was flat-footed and unprepared, not countering any of the arguments made about me and Wes. He just kept saying Ben and Lauren’s will should be upheld.
“This is a tough situation,” the judge said after the closing arguments. “My heart goes out to all of you, due to the loss of your loved ones and your mutual concern for these children. And while this isn’t an easy decision, I’m going to grant the petitioners’ request for temporary custody. Mr. Kirby and Miss Ellis, your friends left you with a very difficult choice. You’re going to have to make it, though. I want to reconvene in two weeks and see where we are then. Both of you, please take this time away from the children and each other to reflect on what would truly be best for them.”
I turned to Wes, tears streaming down my cheeks. I was devastated and shocked. The smug expression on Susan Whitmer’s face made my insides boil on Ben and Lauren’s behalf.
Wes kept ahold of my hand as we walked out of the courtroom with our attorney.
“We’ll be ready in two weeks,” our attorney said, seeming to take the ruling in stride. “You guys make a decision about which of you will be the kids’ guardian, and you’ll get them back.”
“But…two weeks,” I managed to get out. “The kids haven’t been away from us for more than a few hours at a time since their parents died.”
“The grandparents have spent time with them, though. Listen, just take your two weeks and get this decision made. Everything will work out.”
Wes spoke up, his eyes dark and his tone firm. “Yeah, we’ll be bringing in at least one more attorney on this case, and I expect your full cooperation with anyone else I hire.”
“Mr. Kirby, I have extensive experience in these—”
“Your extensive experience didn’t do shit for us back there, did it? I’m not taking any chances with the next hearing. I’ll hire a dozen attorneys if I have to, and you’d better make helping them your full-time job.”
Wes rubbed a hand over his jaw and tugged gently on my hand. “Let’s get out of here; I can’t lay eyes on Patrick and Susan right now.”
We walked out of the courthouse in silence, and I was numb to everything around me. I didn’t even remember where Wes had parked. I just let him lead me as I thought about the judge’s words. Two weeks away from the kids. And Wes and I had to choose which of us would get them.
“What are we going to do?” I asked him, my heart hammering wildly.
He just exhaled deeply, shook his head and said nothing. It looked like he was feeling the same way I was—backed against a wall with a clock ticking, facing the most gut-wrenching situation life had ever handed me.