Squared Away (Out of Uniform 5)

“Here.” Mark dug in his pocket and came up with two folded pieces of paper. He handed one to Isaiah. “This is what I wanted to give you. It’s an email I just sent to my lawyer.”

Isaiah opened it with shaking hands, having to read it twice with blurry eyes. “You’re dropping the motion to intervene? Why?”

“Because this is the best way to show you that I do trust you and respect you. I trust you to do a good job. I trust you to let me stay in their lives. But it’s more than that. I want it to be you. Because it should be you. You’re the one who’s doing the real work, raising the kids, with them day in and day out. The court wants to find the person in the best interests of the kids. And that’s you. I believe that now.”

“You do?” Isaiah’s lungs burned like he’d done one of the swim torture exercises Mark had told him about.

“But I also believe we’re better together. We’re a good team, you and I. And that’s why I did this.” He handed Isaiah a second email, this one to Tom Yates, the lawyer who’d handled the wills.

“You want to give up your claim to the house? Put it in trust for the kids? And you want me named trustee? Mark, that’s a ton of money. And you’re giving it up, why?”

“I talked with Tom tonight. It’s going to be complicated, but we think we can satisfy the debts with other assets, come out of probate without selling the house. Not gonna lie, it’s going to be very tricky. And the court could still come out as finding me the sole owner. But I want them to grow up here. I want you here with them. Annual taxes and maintenance are going to be a sticking—”

“Back it up. Screw taxes. You want to give the kids this house? Isn’t that more protector crap?”

“Maybe a little.” Mark’s cheeks flushed. “But it’s also selfish. I like you guys here. I like knowing a family is here again. My family. I like you guys so close to base. Even if I have to move back to barracks, let you have...your life, I like the idea of being able visit easily. And I love the idea of the kids deciding to keep the house. One or more of them spending their whole lives here. I didn’t want to sell. Not yet. This way I don’t have to.”

“Your uncle is going to shit a brick with you giving up the house for the kids and suggesting I be the trustee. He’s going to contest both the physical and legal custody, even if you withdraw.”

“I have a few ideas about that. If you’d hear me out. I thought about talking to him myself, but then I figured you’d like it better if I talked to you first, got your thoughts on what the best course of action is.”

“You figured right.” Isaiah did like being consulted. And he still couldn’t believe that Mark was dropping his case. Because he believed in Isaiah. He was having to work very hard to not get emotional over Mark’s declaration. “So, options?”

“Okay, so option one is that I talk to my uncle. Get him to drop out. I have a strong feeling that if I personally give up some voting shares or something—”

“Absolutely not. You are not buying your way out of this. You’re not giving up even more money.” Isaiah shook his head. No way was he letting Mark go through with the house plan. “There’s an option two?”

“Yeah. I write a letter to the court, throw my full support behind you for physical and financial guardian. And then we cross our fingers and hope the court doesn’t listen to my uncle.”

“That sounds more reasonable than you giving up money. I think I’ve got a shot. Even with you trying to tilt things by giving up the house, I’ve got my family behind me. My dad says the kids and I can stay with him as long as we need, and I’ve filled my client book into the fall. Adding jobs every day this week.”

“That’s great. You and your dad came to an understanding?”

“Of sorts.” Isaiah shrugged like standing up to his dad hadn’t been a minor miracle. And wonder of wonders, it had worked. He was still in shock over that. “Option two sounds like the best course of action. You on our side will help—”

“Wait.” Mark sounded wounded, face falling. “You don’t even want to hear option three?”

“Okay, okay. Tell me about option three?”

“We get married.” Mark might have said more words but Isaiah’s brain imploded, right there on the sofa. Done. Goo. No more neurons.

“Whaaa?” It was the only sound he could force out.

“I said, we could get married. You and me.”