Thief .(60)

She laughed at the confused expression on my face. “Life does not accommodate you, it shatters you. Love is mean, but it’s good. It keeps us alive. If you need her, then wait. But, right now she’s getting married. It’s her day and you can’t ruin it.”

Love is mean.

I loved my mom — especially when she wasn’t being a bitch.



I jogged down the stairs to my car. She watched me from the doorway, tugging on her locket. Maybe she was right. I wanted Olivia to be happy. To have the things that were taken from her as a child. I couldn’t give her those things because I was giving them to someone else.

I drove aimlessly for a while before eventually pulling into a random strip mall. Florida was a maze of peach-colored strip malls. Each one bragged a fast food chain front and center like the mast on a ship. Flanking the token McDonalds or Burger King was always a nail place. I pulled into a spot in front of Nail Happy. The shop was empty except for the workers. When I got out instead of a woman, they looked disappointed. I pulled out my phone, leaning against the door. It was cool outside — not cool enough for a jacket — but Florida cool. My thumbs lingered over the keyboard.



I love you

Delete

If you leave him, I’ll leave her

Delete

Can we talk?

Delete

Peter Pan

Delete



I pocketed my phone. Punched a tree. Drove home with bloody knuckles. Love was fucking mean.





The day after I barged into Leah’s, she got a restraining order. If I go anywhere near my daughter, I’ll get arrested. I was almost arrested that night. The cops had me handcuffed when my brother showed up. He spoke quietly to Leah for a few minutes before coming over and taking off my cuffs.

“She’s not going to press charges, little brother, but she’s going to have us file a report, and tomorrow she’s going to get a restraining order.”

“Was that your idea?”

He smirked at me. We didn’t exchange any more words. I just got in my car and drove away. Leah filed a report. She claims that I kicked down the door, threatened her life and woke Estella up in the middle of the night —drunk. She is also back to claiming that I am not Estella’s father. I wonder if she lied to Olivia to torment me. I don’t know what goes on in that woman’s head. Or what went on in my head for so many years. Either way, Leah’s woken the beast. Olivia directs me to an attorney that deals primarily with twisted family issues like mine. She says she’s the best in the business. Her name is Moira Lynda. Ariom — I like that one. After listening to me speak for ten minutes, Moira holds up her hand to stop me. She has a tattoo on her hand, on the skin between her thumb and pointer finger. It looks like a four-leaf clover.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says. “The woman finds out that you want a divorce and tells you that the child you’ve been raising for six months isn’t yours — and you believe her? Just like that?”

“I didn’t have any reason not to. She didn’t want a divorce. At that point, it would have only benefited her to let me believe Estella was mine.”

“Oh, Caleb.” She puts a hand to her forehead. “Didn’t you see what was happening? You came out and dropped a couple bombs on her, and at some point in that conversation she decided that she didn’t want you, she wanted revenge. And that’s exactly what’s happening.”

I stare out her window at the traffic below and know it’s true. But, why hadn’t I had the sight to see it? If someone other than myself were telling me this story, I’d laugh at their stupidity. Why do humans have such a hard time seeing their own shit clearly?

“She has you by the balls here, Caleb. There is no proof of what happened that night. But, there is proof that for the last three years of that child’s life you haven’t seen her, paid child support or fought for custody. Leah has you at abandonment. And now that she knows that, she’s come back to let you know that Estella is yours, and she has the power.”

God.

“What do I do?”

“You get a court-ordered paternity test. That’s going to take some time. Then we ask for visitation. It’ll be supervised at first, but as long as you comply with the rules and show up to see Estella, we can push for joint custody.”

“I want full.”

“Yeah well, I want to be a swimsuit model. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m chubby and ate a cheeseburger for dinner last night.”

“Okay,” I say. “Do what you need to do. I’m in it. Whatever it is. Is there a way for me to see Estella?”

It’s such a stupid question, but I had to ask. There is no way Leah is going to let me anywhere near my daughter. I have no proof, but I’m already thinking of her as my daughter again. Have I ever stopped?