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AUTUMN
I scoop cheesy scrambled eggs onto a plate and add a slice of buttered toast. Setting it on the breakfast bar for Clementine, I pour her a glass of orange juice.
Clementine swings her dangling feet as she eats her breakfast. To her, today is just a typical Monday. Breakfast before school. Getting dressed and gathering her backpack of school supplies.
But today is far from a typical Monday. Quite the opposite, actually. Today, my daughter’s future is in the hands of a judge. A judge I have never met and know nothing about. A judge who reads over a stack of papers and listens to our attorneys as they plead our case. And there is nothing I can do except try to remain calm. On the outside, at least.
Jonas strolls into the kitchen in jeans and a T-shirt. Last night, we decided to dress as we normally would in the morning. We didn’t want Clementine to go to school asking why we were dressed up or with worry in her heart. So, for now, we go about the morning as if nothing is different.
“‘Morning, scarlet.” Jonas steps up behind me, wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my temple.
“‘Morning. Hungry?”
He nods. “Little bit.”
I portion out the last of the eggs and make us each some toast. After we finish eating, we gear up and drive Clementine to school. She bops and sings in the back seat, and I can’t help but tear up a little. But I resist the urge to cry and swallow the wad of emotion lodged in my throat.
Just before we reach the drop-off point in the car circle, I spin around in my seat. “Hey, pumpkin. Hope you have a good day at school. Are you doing any fun projects?” Jonas rubs small circles on my thigh, trying to soothe me as I engage with Clementine.
I don’t want to consider this my last opportunity with my daughter, but what if it is? What if the judge sides with Leo and I am ordered to hand custody over to him before the end of the day? Doesn’t seem logical, but I have also never been in a situation like this. I have never had to think about the possibility of losing my child to someone who never cared until eight weeks ago.
“We’re making aliens in art class today,” she says with exuberance.
“How cool. Do you know what you want your alien to look like?”
Until we reach the drop-off, Clementine goes into animated detail on how she plans to create her alien. When it’s time to say goodbye, I choke back my words and hug her harder than normal.
“Have a good day, pumpkin. See you later.”
“Bye, Mama. Bye, Mr. Jonas. See you after school.” She hops out of the Jeep and walks past the gate into the school.
I stare after her until she heads into the building. As soon as she vanishes, I lose it. Tears spill down my cheeks and I sob at the plausibility of not doing this every day. Of not dropping my daughter off at school. Of not hugging her whenever I please. Or being able to enjoy the little moments. The animated conversations. Watching a movie with her every night. Witnessing her evolve from a girl into a young woman.
“Know it’s not easy, but try to stay optimistic. Keep telling the universe youwillget to keep her. Put it out there.”
And I do. I pray to whoever listens and ask them to let today end well. To let Clementine stay with me, where she is loved and happy and healthy. To let today be the last day I hear from or speak to Leo again.
We get back to the house and rush to get ready. Jonas changes into gray dress slacks and a black button-down. Considering I see him in jeans and a T-shirt most days, I look forward to peeling his clothes off later.
“Quit looking at me like that,” he states.
“Like what?” I play coy.
“Like you want to rip my clothes off.” He chuckles when I shrug and my favorite dimple makes an appearance. “We’ll have time for that later. When we’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating,” I mumble. “Yes.”
I finish getting ready. Apply a light coat of makeup and pin the top half of my hair back while letting the rest hang in loose waves. I lint brush my knee-length black and red dress, shifting the skirt a little to make sure the small pleats at the base sit over my knees.
“You look beautiful,” Jonas says from the doorway. “We should get going.”
We head out the door and drive toward downtown. The traffic is light heading toward the beach this time of day. Most residents are heading out, and it’s still early for the snowbirds to drive to the beach.
By the time Jonas turns on Court Street, my palms are clammy. As he pulls into the parking lot, locates a space to park, and feeds the meter, my nails dig into my skin. My heart beats out of my chest as Jonas opens my door and holds his hand out.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry about what’s going on around us.”
He guides us into the courthouse and we go through security. Past the screening area, I spot Theresa and wave. Once we catch up to her, she shakes Jonas’s hand before pulling me into a hug.
