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Valerie scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“Olivia won’t be going anywhere with you this weekend,” Neil went on. “And we need to discuss why.”
The rage I saw in Laurence’s expression chilled me.
Valerie had to go home with that rage.
I was going to be sick.
“There’s no discussion to be had,” Valerie said firmly. “Olivia is my granddaughter. You can’t keep her from me.”
“You planned to keep her from us.” Neil’s accusation dashed any hope of a best-case scenario. “We know you were behind the CPS call.”
They didn’t even have the courtesy to say, “What CPS call?” Instead, Laurence said, “What did you expect?”
“I expected that we could work out our differences without underhanded tactics.” Neil’s tone was even.
That only made Laurence more furious. “We expected that Olivia wasn’t going to be raised by drug-addicted swingers.”
I quickly cut in. “Neil has been clean since he got out of rehab. Valerie, you know this.”
“I also know that I saw you in the paper, wasted out of your mind and being carried out of some nightclub by your boyfriend,” she shot back.
“That’s what this is about?” I had to laugh in her face because it was so absurd. “I’m diabetic. El-Mudad was carrying me to an ambulance because I had a severe complication—”
“Do you mean an interaction?” Laurence snarled.
“That’s enough!” Neil stepped slightly forward, and I laid my hand on his arm. But he was putting himself between Laurence and me, not advancing on him. “Our current arrangement isn’t working. It won’t continue.”
“So, what? You just won’t let me see her?” Valerie choked on a laugh of disbelief.
Neil and I said nothing. I was glad that both Laurence and Valerie were focused on Neil because I couldn’t have made eye contact.
“We’ll sue you.” Valerie’s throat sounded painfully hoarse. “We’ll sue you for visitation—”
I didn’t raise my voice so that she would know I was serious and had done my research. “And you might be successful. We understand that. But until there’s a court order, or until our mutual respect and trust heal, this is how things will be.”
Where had that come from? For once, I’d somehow managed to sound smarter and calmer than I felt where Valerie was concerned.
She turned her watering eyes to Neil. “This is how you’re punishing me, then?”
“I’m not punishing you,” he said, still tense but at a lower volume. “But I don’t recognize the person you’ve become.”
Valerie turned away. Laurence didn’t.
Neil maintained a scary level of eye-contact with him. “I suggest you leave our home.”
“Do you have any idea how humiliating this is going to be for the two of you?” Laurence asked, trying for smugness but falling short. His anger at their immediate powerlessness bent his mouth into a tight grimace. “Sorry. The three of you. And the kids.”
“All of them,” I reminded him. “Even Olivia. You’re going to hurt her most of all.”
“But she’s just collateral damage,” Neil snarled. “This isn’t about Olivia. It’s about winning. A moral victory.”
I gripped his arm harder, praying he wouldn’t say or do something in the heat of the moment that would end up with us in court.
Neil’s throat moved as he swallowed. “Leave. Or I’ll have security escort you off the property.”
A second is a long measurement of time when it separates a silent moment from a potential explosion of violence in one’s foyer. My chest constricted, and my ears rang in the quiet suspense. When Laurence turned and slammed the door behind him, I stumbled.
“Steady,” Neil said, catching my elbow.
“Whoa. I do not like confrontation, apparently,” I said with a deep breath, keeping my voice low so they wouldn’t hear me as they stalked back to their car.
“That’s only now becoming apparent to you? After how many years of therapy?”
“It’s not the time to joke,” I warned.
He was immediately chastened. “I know. I didn’t enjoy that any more than you did. I despise hurting Valerie. Even if it’s for the greater good.”
“That’s only now becoming apparent to you? After how many years of therapy?” I mocked him with his own words. The knots in my shoulders loosened, but only a little bit. “I’m going to have the most destructive headache from this.”
“Why don’t you take something for it before we leave for the city,” he suggested gently. “You can sleep on the flight, and we can have a nice evening at home, just the two of us, while El-Mudad endures yet another ‘Let It Go.’”
“That sounds good.” I headed for the bedroom, Neil following along behind me. Over my shoulder, I said, “You and El-Mudad have gotten a lot of one-on-one time lately.”
“I hope you weren’t feeling abandoned, darling,” Neil said, crestfallen.
“No, no,” I hurried to reassure him. “I meant that in a good way. I love your love.”
“That was a fantastic line, by the way,” Neil said, falling into step beside me. At my confused frown, he added, “‘Our mutual respect and trust?’ Did you rehearse that?”
