Cracks in the Sidewalk(64)

“Do you think something might be wrong?” Elizabeth asked her father, but Charlie said he doubted such was the case.

“What then?” Elizabeth asked earnestly.

Charlie shrugged. “JT’s not one who likes losing. Maybe he thinks he can weasel out of the ruling.”

“He can’t do that,” Claire declared. “It’s illegal! The court order said he had to let Liz talk to the children. If the court ruling says that’s what he has to do, then he has to do it!”

“The likelihood,” Charlie said, “is that JT won’t out-and-out defy the court order. But he’ll probably do everything possible to push his limits.”

“Can he get away with it?” Elizabeth asked apprehensively.

“Maybe, maybe not,” her father answered. “It all depends on what we do. If we believe he’s deliberately defying the judge’s visitation order, we can take him back to court.”

“What good will it do?” Claire asked. “If he doesn’t obey the court order the first time, what makes you think he’ll obey it the second time?”

“If we take him to court for disobeying the first order, the judge will probably hit him with sanctions. A fine, possibly even jail time.”

“Dad,” Elizabeth said. “Isn’t it a little too premature to be thinking of that? After all, he didn’t answer the phone for one day. That doesn’t mean he’s never going to.”

“I hope not,” Charlie said gravely. “I certainly hope not.”

For the remainder of the evening there was no further discussion about JT. Claire worked on an afghan she was crocheting, Charles watched the second World Series game, and Elizabeth pretended to read. For almost an hour Elizabeth flipped through the pages of Better Homes and Gardens, looking at roasted turkeys and chrysanthemum arrangements clouded by the haze of tears plaguing her eyes. At ten o’clock, when her eyes had grown weary and her heart exhausted, Claire helped her into bed.

~

Charles said nothing that night. He had seen the tears in Elizabeth’s eyes and understood the heartache she felt, but he was at a loss for words. When morning came he left the house at eight-thirty, but instead of turning toward the bank he traveled through a maze of streets until he came to the Caruthers house. He parked the car, pulled a sheet of notepaper from his briefcase, and began writing. Once finished, he stepped from the car, carried the folded paper to the house, and slipped it through the mail slot in the front door. After that he drove off.





The Warning


Jeffrey despised the shaft of sunlight that sliced across the bedroom and interrupted his sleep. On Wednesday morning he woke to that blinding glint of light and the sound of David relentlessly calling his name. Jeffrey turned over and tugged the blanket above his ears. Moments later David tromped into the bedroom and began poking his back.

“Wake up, Daddy,” David said, “I need you to read my letter.”

“Later,” JT answered wearily.

“No, now.”

JT turned to face the boy. “I’m trying to sleep. Go back downstairs and play. We’ll read your book later.”

“It’s not a book,” David answered peevishly. “It’s my letter from Grandpa.”

JT sat up. “Your letter from Grandpa?”

David nodded.

“Go get it.”

David thumped down the stairs and came back carrying the note Charles had written. He handed it to JT. “Read,” he commanded.

JT unfolded the note and scanned the first few lines.

“Jeffrey,” the note began without any salutation and written in the tight script that JT recognized as Charlie’s.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked the boy.

“Grandpa gave it to me.”

“He was here? In the house?”

“Grandpa was outside,” David said. “He saw me in the window and put my letter in the letter hole. Now read, okay?”

“Okay,” JT answered. “But after I read it to you, I have to keep the letter and put it in a safe place because it also has a message for Daddy, okay?”

“Dear David,” he began, making up the words, “I hope you are being a very good boy and minding everything your daddy tells you to do. Your daddy has a lot of responsibility, and he needs you to help him. You must eat whatever he gives you for dinner and don’t hit your sister. Love from Grandpa.”

“That’s all?”

“Unh-huh,” JT nodded. “Just that and a business message for me.”

“Read me the business message.”

“Nope, little boys don’t need to hear grownup messages.” JT turned David around and gave him a pat on the behind. “Now scoot. Christian was up half the night, so let me sleep a while longer.”

“Okay,” David answered. He ran into Kimberly’s room hollering about how he’d gotten a special letter from Grandpa.

Once the boy had left, JT opened the note again.

“Jeffrey,” it read, “Either you answer the telephone this afternoon and allow Elizabeth to talk to her children, or we will be headed right back to court. I also expect you to deliver all three children to our house for a visit with their mother this coming Sunday at precisely nine o’clock—not one minute later. This is the one and only warning I will give you. If you cause my daughter another minute of unnecessary anguish, I will notify Judge Brill that you are in defiance of his court order and we can take it from there.