“Does he need the help?”
Her question stopped me in my tracks. Did he?
As she took the turn off the highway to town, I thought about Diesel’s case, about everything he had to offer and how well respected he was in town and by his customers.
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But I never want him to feel alone. Ever again.”
She smiled without looking over at me. “Sounds like a lucky man.”
“I am,” I said with a pitiful sniff. “So lucky.”
She pulled up to the curb outside of the courthouse and turned to me with the same smile. “I meant him, darlin’. Go in there and squeeze your little family. I’m sure they’ll be gladder than glad you made it home safely even if you missed the court thing.”
I handed her a stack of bills from my wallet, but she waved me off. When I hopped out, I placed the money on the seat and shot her a wink. “He’d want me to thank you for getting me here safely,” I said, calling her on her earlier words. “And make sure you take care of yourself too. See you soon about the Mercedes. Thanks again.”
I knew Aunt Marnie would be ten times more grateful for my safety than her car, but I still felt a gut punch of remorse that I’d been in her vehicle when the accident happened.
After waving her goodbye, I turned and ran, ignoring the loss of one of my shoes and the damp, mud-caked suit I had on. Grease and dirt lined my face, my shirt was half-untucked, and my jacket pocket had been ripped off somewhere along the way.
But I was here. Come what may, I was here to take my family home.
22
Diesel
There’s something to be said about knowing the outcome of an event before it happens. You can sit back and take it all in, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that nothing you do will change anything.
“You may be seated,” the bailiff said in a deep voice.
We sat. I held Marigold on my lap like a security blanket while she watched the proceedings with big eyes. Ava had volunteered to hold her for me if needed, but right now I just wanted to enjoy my final moments before having to tell her goodbye.
The blood rushed loudly in my ears, and I tried blocking out the words the attorneys were saying. It wasn’t until Ian nudged me and tilted his head at Miss Sara—Judge Kelly—that I tuned back in.
“I’m sorry,” I said, clearing my throat. “Can you please repeat the question?”
Her face was softer than I’d imagined. Kinder. I was sure it was never easy making a decision in a custody case, no matter how clear-cut it was.
“Mr. Church, in custody cases like these, we try to take the biological parents’ wishes into consideration. Mr. Merchant has provided us a copy of your sister’s will, but he mentioned you have a letter too?”
I nodded and reached for the folder I’d brought while the Kensingtons’ attorney blustered about wishes not meaning anything about the suitability of a proper legal guardian. The judge politely reminded them that they would get the opportunity to raise questions in a little while.
After I handed Beth’s letter to Ian, he took it to the bailiff to hand to the judge. In the silence that followed, I heard whispers behind me. I turned to see the courtroom absolutely full of my friends and neighbors. Tucker shot me a double thumbs-up. Riker from the Devoted Dogs MC, who was sitting next to Parrish’s friend Colin, gave me a stoic nod. Even Mrs. Snowdon next door, who complained about Lloyd crowing at all hours, gave me a smile and patted her chest over her heart. I turned back to face forward before I lost my shit completely.
When they decided in the Kensingtons’ favor, everyone I knew was going to be here to witness it. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad thing. Maybe they’d all help keep me from doing something I’d regret.
I turned again and glanced at the door to the hallway. Still no Parrish. Something had happened to him, and I knew it had to be something big to keep him from Mari’s custody hearing, so my stomach churned with nerves for him on top of the ones I already had about Marigold.
Judge Kelly put the letter down and pulled off her glasses before shooting me an empathetic glance. “I’m sorry for your loss. Regardless of what happens here today, it is clear that this sweet child and all of you have lost something important she’ll never get back. Our job today is to make sure we come as close as possible to giving her the kind of life she’d lead with her biological parent.”
I bit back a sigh. That sure as hell wasn’t me. Her life had been money and private school, brand names and opportunity. Mine wasn’t like that at all.