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“Good.” He let out a sigh of relief.
“So, you don’t think an intervention would be good for Mitch?”
“I’m honestly not sure, Haize. He thinks a lot like I do, and when I think back to my days of using, I’d have stormed out should anyone have talked to me about the stuff you brought up. He’s got a temper. And it’s apparent he’s jealous of the progress I’ve made.” The six-month mark that Haize mentioned was in the back of his mind. He was coming up on six months and going strong with his sobriety. The court date for custody of Jace was coming up fast. Along with Mitch’s issues, he had all the ingredients to make him want to use if he wasn’t careful. Lucky for him, Haize was by his side, ready to take care of any challenges that came up. He needed her help but essentially had to do it all on his own.
“There’s really no other way to go about it. Tough love isn’t gonna work, seeing as he’s kicked you out. Your wake-up call was prison. I’d hate to go to those extremes. He could get in his truck and kill himself or someone else. So many possibilities if we don’t figure something out.”
“We can try your way. You’re good at what you do and a professional. It’s worth a shot. The worst that can happen is he blows up in our face and says no. He’s never really been violent with me. We’ve had some brother fights before, but when he’s drunk, he lashes out but never has threatened to hurt me.”
“His place would be best. The only public places around here are bars and restaurants. Unless we have it in the park. The weather is getting colder, and we don’t want him to make a scene. We don’t need that attention.”
Michael held onto her hand, feeling like if he let go, he’d float off into oblivion and a world full of drugs and alcohol. “Our next challenge is finding a good time when he’s sober. Lately, he’s either been drunk off his ass or asleep. There has been nothing in between.”
“That’s where it’s gonna take some work on your part, Mikey. Start reaching out through texts. Then progress to phone calls. You know him better than anyone. Even if he’s just had a few drinks, we hop on the opportunity. Start throwing out the lines. We’ll eventually be able to snag him.”
Michael leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for doing this. Thanks for all your help, Haize. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
“I love you, Mikey. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Same. I owe you big time.” Six months. Was that the average time it took an addict to relapse? He didn’t want to think about it too much, but it was in the back of his mind. He’d bring up his worries with her later. Right now, they had to focus on Mitch, or Michael feared the worst for his little brother.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Michael felt nervous. He had met with his lawyer about the upcoming custody battle, and while the attorney was optimistic about the way the judge would rule, there was still a possibility that his history in prison was going to hinder his chances of even getting joint custody. He wanted Jace out of Marilyn’s house completely, but the lawyer informed him to view even partial custody as a win.
A few days had passed since he and Haize had discussed Mitch’s intervention. Michael had tried multiple times to call him, along with stopping by his house to feel things out. His little brother wasn’t answering his calls or his front door, and he even considered contacting the police for a well-check just to make sure he was okay.
The police had done so, informing Michael that Mitch was okay. His definition of okay was probably far different than a cop’s perspective, but at least he had answered the door for them. The timing wasn’t right for an intervention, but they knew they couldn’t waste much more time. Each moment that passed held the chance that one day, Mitch might not ever answer the door again.
Haize stood with him at the bottom of the courthouse steps, hand slipping into his as they looked toward the entrance. She looked so beautiful with her wavy blond hair and subtle dress – just right for entering a courtroom. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she smiled and nudged his arm.
Just having her near gave him more confidence than he had ever felt in his life. “I’m happy you’re here, Haize.”
“Me, too.”
“I have no idea what’s gonna happen in there today.”
She smoothed some hair from her face. “You’re gonna get custody of Jace. Or you’ll get joint custody. You’ll win, or you won’t. And the sun will come up tomorrow. And I’ll be right here by your side, supporting you in every way that you need.”
“He can’t stay with her,” Michael whispered. “He just can’t.”
“I know. And you’re doing everything you can to protect him. I’m so proud of you for that, no matter what happens today.”
They went up the steps and met his lawyer at the entrance. The smell of the place brought back so many memories for Michael. Almost five years ago he was there, in handcuffs, waiting for the jury to come back and sentence him to prison. Things hadn’t changed – the painted trim of the doors, the waxed floor, the actual courtroom with the painted justice scales near the witness stand. It was like he had never left, and he swallowed back his nervousness and focused on the task at hand. This was for Jace. Every bit of nervousness, embarrassment, resentment – for Jace.
As they walked in, he saw Marilyn already sitting with her attorney. Jace was in a seat behind them, dressed in dark pants and a white button-up shirt, his usually disheveled hair smoothed down and combed, looking like a little man, having to grow up far faster than normal.
Jace perked up when he saw him, giving a slight wave he was quickly scolded for when Marilyn realized who had walked in. Haize sat next to him, with his lawyer on his right side. Marilyn glared at him and smirked when she saw Haize. Maybe she’d screw up out of jealousy. He didn’t want to use Haize for anything like that, but it was apparent Marilyn hated seeing another woman with him. Her husband was sitting next to her, and she quickly grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it, her goal obvious in attempting to make Michael feel just like she was.
The judge entered and all the formalities began. They called Marilyn up first since Michael was the person to file a suit to gain custody. She sat on the witness stand, her smirk still on her face. It was all a dog and pony show – her hair was pulled up in a tight style, her dress very conservative for her, despite it being low cut in the front. Her makeup was also light, but there was still something apparent about her active drug use. Michael hoped the judge would catch onto it.
“Good morning, Ms. Warner. I am Judge Rosco Pritchard and I will be handling this case. I am going to ask you a series of questions. It will be the same series of questions I will ask Mr. Brennan when he takes the stand. I need your complete honesty. This is for the child involved – Jace Warner. Keep that in mind. It’s all for the sake of the child. You are under oath.”
“Yes, sir,” Marilyn replied, her smile grating on Michael’s nerves. It was going to be hard to keep quiet, should she answer anything wrong that he knew about. But an outburst would only hurt him, and he gripped Haize’s hand under the table to keep him grounded.
“I see that Michael Brennan filed for custody and a DNA test has confirmed that he is the father of Jace. You filed a countersuit. What custody are you seeking today, Ms. Warner?
“Sole custody”.”
