Charlotte Hughes – A New Attitude (страница 16)

“Mrs. Abernathy, you can go in now,” the young receptionist called out, startling Marilee from her thoughts. “Second door on the left.”

“Thank you.” Marilee stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Tucking her handbag under one arm, she proceeded down a short hall, gulping in air as she went. The door opened and a tall, angular man stepped out.

“Mrs. Abernathy, I’m Tate Radford.” He offered his hand and they shook before he led her inside his office.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Marilee said, realizing she had taken in too much air and now felt dizzy. It would be just her luck to hyperventilate in the man’s office.

“Please sit down,” he said, motioning to a chair. Seating himself on the other side of his desk, he gave her an odd look. “Mrs. Abernathy, are you okay? You look pale.”

She nodded. “I’m fine. This is my first time, you see. Not the first time I’ve been in a lawyer’s office, of course. I had to deal with my parents’ attorney after my mother passed on, but that’s neither here nor there. This is my first…uh…divorce.”

He looked sympathetic. “Do you think there’s a chance of reconciliation?”

Marilee was surprised by the question. Even if Grady wanted her back, which wasn’t likely, now that he had a woman who probably knew more positions than Dr. Ruth, how would she ever trust him again? He had betrayed her, not only as her husband, but by throwing away all they’d believed in, the very foundation of their marriage. He’d turned his back on his family and work because he’d lusted for another woman, simple as that. Worse, Grady’d taken their son into that woman’s house, where he and LaFonda were living without benefit of marriage. Not that Grady was free to marry at this point, mind you, but he could have waited, instead of flaunting the affair.

“Mrs. Abernathy?”

Marilee looked up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Radford. This has been one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made, and believe me, I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about it. The answer to your question is no. I do not want a reconciliation. I never thought I’d say this, but I want to get out of this marriage as quickly as possible. And I want my son with me so he can live a normal life. I sense he’s very troubled, and he needs guidance. He won’t find it where he is presently living.” She paused to catch her breath. “I guess you were just expecting a simple yes-or-no answer, huh?”

“I want my clients to feel comfortable talking to me, Mrs. Abernathy. Is your husband, by chance, Reverend Grady Abernathy from Chickpea Baptist Church?”

“He was, but he was asked to leave.”

“That might prove helpful to our case.” Tate pulled a yellow legal pad from his desk drawer. “I’d like to jot down a few notes if you don’t mind. Now, you say your husband is living with a woman. Do you know her name?”

“LaFonda Bonaire. At least that’s what she calls herself. Her real name is Betty Clump.”

“So you can prove your husband is committing adultery?”

“Yes. They’re living in her mobile home in Tall Pines Trailer Park.”

“And he has your son? How old is the boy?”

“Fifteen. His name is Josh.”

Tate sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Do you think your husband took Josh against his will?”

Marilee looked at her hands. “I don’t know what to think, Mr. Radford. My son has been going through a rebellious stage for some time now. Our relationship was strained before he left. He may very well have gone on his own.” It wasn’t easy for her to admit that, even to herself.

“I have teenagers myself, Mrs. Abernathy. I think divorce is hard on kids at any age, but it seems to hit them hardest in the teen years. Also, the boy probably has more freedom living with his dad, and when you’re a teenager that seems to matter more than anything. Have you tried talking to him?”

Marilee told him about her trip to the school. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He’s probably ashamed of what he’s done. Frankly, I don’t know why your husband wants the boy there in the first place. Seems like it would crowd the love nest.”

Marilee shrugged. “Maybe he feels less guilty this way.”

Tate folded his hands across his stomach. “I’ll level with you, Mrs. Abernathy. It won’t be easy getting your son back if he prefers being with his dad. After all, he’s old enough to decide with whom he wishes to live. If he were younger, you’d have no problem getting custody. As it stands, you’ll have to fight, and that’s going to cost money.”

Marilee shifted in her chair. “How much?”

“First we have to prove, without a doubt, that your husband is living with this Miss Bonaire. I can hire a private investigator to spend a couple of nights watching the place, get your husband’s comings and goings on video. As for your son, I’d advise you to hire a child advocate, someone who will do a home study of both residences and decide the best interests of your child. You’re looking at a cost of several thousand dollars, plus my retainer, which is fifteen hundred. Now, if we get into a custody battle, my bill is going to be substantially higher. I’ll need about six thousand dollars in an escrow account if we’re to proceed with the child advocate.”

Marilee’s heart sank. She reminded herself she was doing it for Josh, and suddenly money didn’t seem to matter as much. “I think I can put my hands on that much money. My husband and I had a modest savings account, but he’s already taken out half.”

Radford arched one eyebrow. “I suggest you get to the bank before he has a chance to clean it out completely. Once you retain me as counsel, I’ll arrange for a temporary hearing and request visitation with your son. The home study will take longer.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from a file. “I’ll need you to fill out this financial statement and give me a sworn affidavit as to what led to the breakup of your marriage. Like I said, if we can prove adultery, I can have you divorced in ninety days, but should custody become an issue, there’s no telling how long it’ll take.”

Marilee nodded. “I’ll have the money before you close your office this afternoon.”

JOSH ABERNATHY STOOD AT the entrance to Tall Pines Trailer Park and waited for the school bus. On the other side of the pockmarked road, three teenagers smoked cigarettes and watched him. Two of them were his age; one was older. He knew the older guy’s reputation and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Every now and then one of the younger kids would make a wisecrack, and the other would burst into laughter. Josh didn’t have to be psychic to know they were talking about him. People had been making fun of him all his life. The preacher’s kid, they called him, as if he didn’t have a name of his own. Goody Two-shoes. Fatso.

He didn’t belong, and he never had. Not with the kids who wore faded jeans with holes in the knees, and certainly not with the jocks, who ragged him in the shower because he’d put on weight over the past couple of years. He’d stopped showering, only to be made fun of in sixth period for being sweaty, so then he’d stopped participating in gym class at all. Instead, he sat on the bleachers and flunked the class each semester.

His mother claimed he wasn’t fat, said he was just a big kid, but he knew he outweighed kids his own age by a good twenty-five or thirty pounds. When he wore thin T-shirts he could see the roll in his stomach, which was why he’d started wearing black, short-sleeve sweatshirts. His parents said he looked as if he was in mourning, but he didn’t care. Actually, he felt as though someone or something had died. He’d had that feeling for a long time now, although he couldn’t say exactly when it had begun. Probably it had started a couple of years back, when his parents had stopped talking.

Josh heard the boys snicker, but he refused to look their way. Where was the bus, anyway?

“Hey, lard-ass, you want a drag of this here cigarette?” one boy asked.

The older guy remained detached, as though his thoughts were elsewhere.

Josh ignored them. He no longer cared what people thought. When he was younger he’d go off by himself and cry. Now he just shrugged it off. He wished he’d stayed in bed. He wished he was invisible.

He was invisible as far as his dad was concerned. All the man could think of was his new girlfriend. Josh wondered if his dad had lost it. One minute he was this respected minister bent on saving the world, next thing Josh knew he was banging some waitress and selling used cars at the Ford dealership.

“You know, smoking speeds up your metabolism,” the other kid said. “Might get rid of some of that blubber.”

“Would you two shut the hell up?” the oldest kid snapped. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m sick of listening to you. Besides, he ain’t messing with nobody.”

Josh saw the bus in the distance. He hated school. Sleep was really the only thing he liked these days. As long as he was asleep he didn’t have to think about how screwed up his life had become.

Sleep made him feel invisible.

SAM BREWER SHOOK HIS head sadly as he and one of his crew took a tour of Blessing Home. “It would be easier to tear this place down and start from scratch,” the man said.