She motioned for them to sit across from her, then drew in a breath.
“This sort of action makes me tired,” she began, her voice thick with irritation. “You’re wasting my time and the court’s time. You are two reasonably intelligent people who went to all the trouble to create a child together. Now, when your son is eleven, suddenly I have to deal with this?”
Liz had to consciously press her lips together to keep her mouth from falling open. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it sure hadn’t been a beginning like that.
“Your Honor,” Ethan responded, “there are some extraordinary circumstances.”
“There always are,” she said, reaching for her reading glasses and opening a file. “Dazzle me with them.”
Ethan briefly explained about how Tyler had come to be in his life. Liz gave him points for being fair about her attempts to tell him. He was a little dismissive of her first effort, but detailed the second accurately.
Judge Powers frowned. “Your wife kept the information about your son from you?”
Ethan nodded.
“There’s a prize,” the judge commented. “Where is she now?”
“She died a few years ago.”
The judge drew in a breath. “I’m sorry for your loss. So now you’re back in town, Ms. Sutton. I understand you’re caring for your brother’s two daughters while your brother is incarcerated. Is that correct?”
Liz nodded, shocked for the second time in the very short meeting. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Don’t look so surprised,” the judge said. “I do my homework. What you’re doing with them is admirable. I’ve heard you plan on taking them to San Francisco with you. How do they feel about that?”
“They’re not happy about the decision.”
“They’re teenage girls. They’re not going to be happy about anything.” She picked up the folder and looked at Ethan over her glasses. “This wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
“It’s done now. You’re going to have to deal with it. Both of you. School starts the Tuesday after Labor Day. You have between now and the Friday before Labor Day to come up with a reasonable plan. You will present it to me at nine that morning. If I like it, then everything will be fine. If I don’t…”
She smiled tightly. “Trust me. You’re going to want me to like it.” The smile faded. “However, if you don’t come up with a plan, then I will put both of you in jail and charge you five hundred dollars a day until you do. Each. That should cover the cost of three additional children being put in our already overcrowded foster care system. Have I made myself clear?”
Liz nodded. She had no idea if Ethan did the same, but then they were being shown out.
She stood in the corridor feeling as if she’d just escaped a war zone.
“Jesus.” Ethan shoved his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“We’re going to have to figure something out,” Liz insisted, glancing back at the door. “While I’m sure you’re not excited about paying five hundred dollars a day, either, I can at least work from jail. You made this happen, Ethan. Now we’re both stuck.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“You’d rather be right than anything?” What happened to the gentle, funny man she’d fallen in love with? Was he gone forever? Or had the person she’d cared about been little more than an illusion?
“I can’t lose Tyler again.”
“You won’t,” she said, frustration boiling inside of her. “How many times do I have to tell you before you’ll believe…”
She stared at him as understanding dawned. “Of course,” she whispered. “You can’t believe me. Because if I’m reasonable, if I really want you to get to know your son, then I’m not the bad guy. And just maybe part of the reason you don’t know him now is because of the choices you made.”
She was thinking about how he’d betrayed her, but the tightness in his expression warned her that he’d gone to a different place.
“You leave Rayanne out of this,” he growled.
“I wasn’t talking about her.”
“You blame her.”
She considered the question. “Not as much as you do.”
“I don’t blame her. She was my wife.”
There was something about the way he said the words, she thought. She didn’t know what it was. What secret or piece of information she was missing.
Before she could decide if she should hit him or walk away, he surprised her by touching her cheek with the back of his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sensitive topic.”
“Apparently.”
They stared at each other. Looking into his eyes was a little too much like looking at the sun. Do it for any length of time and there would be permanent consequences.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he told her. “You’re right. We need to come up with a plan.”
The gentle stroking made her want to lean against him. “As if I’d trust you now.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Liz.”