Cracks in the Sidewalk(35)

“Oh, Liz would like more than just visitation,” Claire said. “What she wants is full custody of all three children.”

For the first time, Dudley stopped writing and looked up. “Wants custody?”

Charlie turned to Claire, astonished. “Custody?” he repeated. “Liz never said—”

“She might not have said it in so many words,” Claire countered. “But I know for certain it’s what she intended.”

“I don’t understand,” Dudley stammered. “If Elizabeth’s condition is terminal, who’s going to—”

“Me,” Claire answered. “Our house has plenty of room, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Liz and the children.”

“Even if that’s true,” Dudley said, “no court will award custody to—”

Harsh words did not come easily to Dudley Grimm so he hesitated, trying to find a tactful way to say what he had to say. When none came to mind, he reluctantly finished the statement. “A mother who’s dying.”

“Liz isn’t dying,” Claire replied sharply. “She’s learning to live with her disability. Surely the court will understand that. If they have a concern about her ability to care for the children, then let them assign custody to us.”

“Us?” Charlie echoed. “Why, we’ve never even discussed—”

“That won’t happen anyway,” Dudley said. “You’re grandparents. Unfortunately, grandparents have no legal standing, except in rare instances where both parents are deceased, and there is no specific—”

“What about if the father is an unfit parent?” Claire asked.

“Unfit how?”

“He’s mean, intolerant, selfish, has no job, has a girlfriend living with him—”

“Does he abuse the children in any way? Neglect their care? Leave them unattended?”

“I can’t say that exactly.”

“Then you have no case,” Dudley said apologetically. “Without specific proof of such actions, the court automatically awards custody to the natural parent.”

“Well, what about if we say—”

“Claire!” Charlie interrupted. “That’s enough! Let’s get on with what we came here to do, which, in case you’ve forgotten, is to get Liz visitation with the kids.”

Dudley Grimm breathed a sigh of relief. “That, I think, is quite doable.”

He asked a number of questions about Jeffrey: his home address, his last place of employment, any known childcare arrangements, and whether he had retained a lawyer to fight this action. Writing furiously again, Dudley asked about the children, the state of their health, and their previous relationship with their mother. Just before the meeting came to an end, he requested the name, address, and telephone number of Elizabeth’s doctor.





Thus it Began


On the second Tuesday of May the Caruthers’ doorbell chimed early in the morning, so early that JT was still in bed. Believing it to be Claire, he squeezed his eyes shut and tugged the blanket over his head. A few minutes later he heard the knock—a knock much too heavy for Claire, unless she’d come back with the sledgehammer. He bolted out of bed and flew down the stairs ready for a fight.

“I warned you—” he screamed as he yanked open the door.

“Jeffrey T. Caruthers?” the sheriff’s deputy asked.

“Yes, but if this is about the store—”

The deputy handed him an envelope, politely said, “Have a nice day,” and turned toward his car.

“Wait,” JT cried out. “What’s this?”

The deputy didn’t bother looking back. He climbed into the patrol car, pulled out of the driveway, and disappeared down the street.

“What the—” JT looked at the envelope, addressed to him but with a return address of the Union County Courthouse. Still groggy and bewildered he stumbled back inside, flopped down on the sofa, and tore open the envelope.

At the top of the first page a line of bold black letters shot through him like bullets:

Motion to Compel Parental Visitation

Caruthers v Caruthers

“No way!” he screamed and slammed the paper down. The noise startled Christian who woke crying, which hardly concerned Jeffrey since he’d launched into a full-blown rage.

“This is Liz’s doing!” he ranted. “Her and that crappy family of hers! Troublemakers, that’s what they are, big-time troublemakers! Their life is miserable, so they think they’re gonna make mine miserable too! Well, this time they ain’t getting away with it!”

He angrily kicked over the coffee table and sent a stack of magazines flying. “If they want a fight, I’ll give it to them! I’ll make them wish they never heard of me! I’ll—”

Suddenly JT noticed Kimberly on the stair clutching Ballerina Bear. “Daddy, are you mad at me?” she asked tearfully.

“Oh.” Jeffrey saw the fear in his daughter’s eyes, and shame overcame him. “No, sweetheart, Daddy’s not mad at you. I just bumped into the coffee table and knocked it over.”

“Were you yelling because it hurt?”

“Yes, Kimberly,” he replied. “It hurts a lot.”