Chapter 6
Nora and Mason got home at nine o’clock, just like we’d planned.
Mason ran in first, still hyped up on sugar and movie excitement. He stopped dead when he saw me standing in the hallway.
His little face went through three expressions in as many seconds. Confusion. Recognition. Disbelief.
“DAD?”
He launched himself at me. I dropped to one knee and caught him. He wrapped his arms around my neck so tight I could barely breathe. He was bigger than I remembered. Heavier. His hair was longer.
“Dad, Dad, Dad,” he kept saying, over and over, like he couldn’t believe I was real. “You’re home! You’re really home! Mom said you wouldn’t be back for months!”
I held him. Breathed in the smell of his shampoo and popcorn and little-boy sweat. I’d missed this. More than I could ever say.
“I’m home, buddy,” I said into his hair. “I’m home for good.”
Nora was standing in the doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder. She didn’t run. She just looked at me. Her eyes were red. Tired. Older than fifteen.
I set Mason down gently.
“Go wash up, okay? I’ll make you some ice cream in a minute.”
He took off for the bathroom, chattering a mile a minute about the movie, the popcorn, the giant lollipop Nora had bought him.
Nora walked slowly toward me. When she was close enough, I pulled her into a hug. She stiffened for half a second, then melted. She started crying. Quiet, body-shaking sobs she’d been holding in for months.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispered into my chest. “I was so scared. I thought — I thought she was gonna get away with it.”
I stroked her hair. “I’m never letting anything happen to you. Ever again. I promise.”
We sat down at the kitchen table. I made her hot chocolate. Extra marshmallows, just how she liked it.
“Nora,” I said gently, when she’d stopped crying. “I need you to tell me everything. From the beginning. Everything she said. Everything he did. Can you do that?”
She nodded. Wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“It started about a month after you left,” she said. Her voice was small. “He came over one night for dinner. She said he was an old friend from high school. At first it was just dinners. Then he started staying late. Then… he started staying over.”
She paused. Swallowed hard.
“I told her it was wrong. That you’d be hurt. She got so mad, Dad. She yelled at me. Said I didn’t understand how hard it was being alone. Said you didn’t care about us anymore, that the Army had changed you, that you’d probably come home mean and angry and you wouldn’t love us anymore.”
My chest ached. She’d been poisoning my daughter against me. One lie at a time.
“What about Mason?” I asked.
Nora looked down. “She told him Travis was your brother. That you’d asked him to look after us while you were gone. Mason believes her. He — he draws pictures of all four of us. With Travis instead of you.”
She started crying again. “I tried to tell him, Dad. I tried. But he’s only eight. He doesn’t understand. And Mom told me if I said anything, you’d get hurt overseas. That bad guys would find out you were distracted and —”
She couldn’t finish.
I pulled her close again. My heart was breaking for her. She’d been carrying this alone for months. Scared. Confused. Threatened by her own mother.
“You did so good, baby,” I said. “You were so brave. Calling me. Telling me the truth. You saved us, Nora. You saved Mason. You saved me.”
She looked up at me. Eyes wet. Searching.
“What happens now? With Mom? Is she… is she coming back?”
I took a deep breath. There was no easy way to say this.
“Mom and I are getting a divorce, Nora. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. She made bad choices. Very bad choices. And she has to face the consequences.”
Nora nodded slowly. Like she’d already known. Like she’d been waiting for me to say it.
“Will I have to see her?”
“Only if you want to. But Nora… there’s something else. Something hard.” I hesitated. “Your mom is gonna fight us. She’s gonna try to get custody of you and Mason. And she’s gonna say things about me that aren’t true. She’s gonna tell people I’m sick. That I’m dangerous. That you shouldn’t be with me.”
Nora’s jaw tightened. The fear in her eyes hardened into something I recognized. Something I saw in the mirror every morning.
Rage.
“She wouldn’t,” Nora said.
“She would. And she might try to get you to say things. To lie. To tell the judge you’re scared of me.” I leaned forward. “If that happens — if anyone asks you anything — you tell the truth. Always. No matter what your mom says, no matter what she promises you or threatens you with. The truth is the only thing that matters. Can you promise me that?”
Nora looked me dead in the eye.
“I promise. And Dad? If I have to go to court? I’ll tell them everything. What she did. What she said. How she tried to steal my college fund. I won’t let her win. I won’t let her take us away from you.”
I squeezed her hand.
“Thank you, baby. But I don’t want you to worry about any of that right now. Okay? That’s my job. Your job is to be a kid again. To watch stupid movies. To eat too much ice cream. To forget about all of this for a little while.”
Mason ran back into the kitchen then, bouncing off the walls.
“ICE CREAM!” he yelled. “Dad said ice cream! With sprinkles!”
I smiled at Nora. She gave me a small, wobbly smile back.
Later that night, after I’d tucked both kids into bed, I sat on the porch and called Grant.
“Nora’s on our side,” I said. “She’ll testify if she has to.”
“Good,” Grant said. “But there’s more. Marissa’s lawyer called. She’s requesting an emergency hearing. Day after tomorrow. She’s asking for temporary sole custody. Exclusive use of the house. And she’s requesting a psychological evaluation for you. Full PTSD battery.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course she is.”
“I filed a counter. We’re requesting the same evaluation for her. And I’m putting Nora on the witness list. The judge will have to speak with her privately. In chambers. No lawyers. No parents. Just her and the judge.”
“Will that work?”
“It’s our best shot. James… you need to be ready for anything at that hearing. Marissa is gonna pull out every stop. She’s gonna cry. She’s gonna play the grieving military wife. She’s gonna make you look like a monster. And if the judge buys it? You lose the kids. Temporarily, at least. And that’s a very hard hole to climb out of.”
I looked up at the stars. The same stars I’d looked at every night from the other side of the world.
“I’ve survived worse,” I said.
“Have you?” Grant asked quietly. “You’ve survived bullets and bombs. But this is different. This is your kids. And there are no medals for winning in family court.”
He was right.
But I wasn’t the same kid who’d joined the Army at eighteen, scared and broke and looking for a way out.
May you like
I was a father. And fathers don’t lose. Not when their children are on the line.
“See you in court,” I said.
