“How many kids do you have?”
“Three.”
“How old?”
“Six, ten and twelve,” he said.
“Spend much time with them?”
The man squirmed a bit. “As much as I can, given the kind of schedule I have to keep at work.”
“What are you thinking about custody?”
Lacey looked surprisingly thrown by the question. “Visitation, I guess,” he said, sounding disinterested.
Connor was taken aback. “Not even joint custody?”
“Like I said, I don’t have a lot of spare time,” Lacey replied defensively.
Right then, Connor decided he didn’t like his client. What kind of father could be so dismissive about being part of his children’s lives? No matter what happened between him and Heather, he would always want to play a huge role in little Mick’s life. So far they’d been able to work out a fair schedule, so he hadn’t seen a need to legalize his rights, but if it came to that, he’d insist on joint custody.
“Okay, here’s how I see it, Paul,” he began. “You’re going to abdicate the major responsibility for raising your children to your wife. She’s going to ask for a substantial amount in child support, and the court will approve it. Given the facts of the situation, which you’ve admitted to me and of which she’s apparently well aware, she’s likely to get more alimony than you want to pay. Before this goes any further, why don’t you take a step back, go home and try to work things out? It’s the only way you’re going to come out of this a winner.”
It was the first time in his career that Connor had made such a recommendation wholeheartedly. In the past, he’d made the suggestion, then quickly dropped it when his client demurred. Usually he was all too eager to rush into court or mediation and fight for his client’s financial rights.
Paul Lacey looked thrown by his advice. “I came here so you could represent me in my divorce and you’re advocating that we reconcile? What kind of lawyer are you?”
“An honest one. I can take your case and promise to do my best, but you’re going to come out a loser if what matters to you is preserving your bank account. If you ever cared about your wife and family, maybe you should take another stab at remembering why. That’s all I’m saying. If things don’t work out, divorce will still be an option.”
Even as the words came out of his mouth, Connor was surprised by them. What? Was he channeling Heather all of a sudden? It was disconcerting, to say the least.
Lacey stood up. “I’ll think about it. If I call you on Monday and tell you to proceed, you’ll handle it, right?”
“Sure,” Connor said, though without much enthusiasm.
As soon as Paul Lacey had left, Connor grabbed his briefcase full of case files and headed for the door.
“Marjorie, I’m done for the weekend. If you need me, call my cell.”
“But you have a four o’clock appointment,” she protested. “And I thought you’d scheduled several meetings for tomorrow, too. What should I do about those?”
“Call and reschedule. I need to get down to Chesapeake Shores.” He should have canceled the appointments the minute his mother had called about the honeymoon travelogue she had on tap for tomorrow night, but at the time he hadn’t been overjoyed by the prospect of an evening of cheesy family photos.
Worry immediately creased Marjorie’s brow at his response. “A family emergency?”
“In a way, but nothing for you to worry about.”
He just wanted to see Heather and his son. After a couple of weeks of dealing with nonstop ugliness, he needed to be reminded that innocence still existed. Seeing little Mick would accomplish that.
As for seeing Heather, despite how he fought her, even he was starting to appreciate the way she clung to all that was good and hopeful in the world. After the past couple of weeks, he needed that balance even more than he’d realized. And maybe he needed some time to think about why that was.
* * *
Heather had finally allowed herself to be persuaded to join the family for dinner. She pulled into the winding driveway at the house just behind Connor. He came over to help her with little Mick.
“Just getting here?” she asked.
“Actually, I came down last night,” he said as he tickled his son and set off delighted giggles.
She regarded him with surprise. “I thought you were jammed up at work.”
“I was, but I had Marjorie reschedule a few things. I needed to get down here for some peace and quiet and a fix of my guy here.”
“Really? That’s new.”
“Never let it be said I can’t learn an occasional new trick.” He met her gaze. “I’m glad you’re here. Mom said she was inviting you, but I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”
“Your mom was so excited about the trip, how could I say no?”
“And you knew I’d be here?” he asked.
She smiled. “Yes, Connor. I knew.”
“And you came anyway,” he said with exaggerated shock.
“I weighed the wisdom of staying away against the delight of hearing absolutely everything about Paris. Paris won.”
“I just hope they leave out the details about the honeymoon itself,” Connor said with an exaggerated shudder.
She laughed. “I don’t imagine they’d want to share those, so I think your delicate ears are safe.” She studied his face, then sobered. “What’s going on, Connor? Have you had a bad day at the office?”
“One too many cheating husbands who expect me to save their hides, if you must know.”
She actually stopped in her tracks. “Did you just sound as disillusioned by your clients as I think you did?”
He shrugged. “Probably. I’m sure it’s just two weeks of back-to-back consultations with new clients, who mostly have the same old story.” He held her gaze. “And maybe one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You whispering in my ear that they’re whiny jerks,” he admitted.
“I have
