Selena Kitt - Grace

Leah covered her face with her hands, defeated. “Oh my god.”

Donald wasn’t done dealing out the facts. “They’ll want to force you to submit to a psychiatric exam with one of their doctors. He, of course, will diagnose you as sexually deviant because you got pregnant out of wedlock in the first place, and hence, you may be judged unfit to be a mother.”

“What the hell?” Rob exploded. Leah looked over at him, incredulous. “It’s like the Salem witch trials. If she drowns, she’s not a witch, but if she floats, she’s a witch, and we get to burn her!”

“Very much so, I’m afraid.” Donald nodded slowly. “If you are, indeed, married by the time we reach a courtroom, they will likely swap the sexual deviancy argument.”

Rob sat back. “Well that’s a relief.”

“I didn’t say they’d drop it. I said they’d swap it.” Donald tapped his pen on the yellow legal pad. “They will, instead, label Leah as neurotic. They will point to all of those natural reactions of grief-crying jags, bouts of anger and depression, irritability, low self-esteem, anxiety, even chronic headaches and stomachaches-as signs of neurosis that prove her unfit to be a mother.”

“Is there any hope at all?” Leah whispered, feeling the sick ball in her stomach tightening with every word out of the lawyer’s mouth.

“Of course there is!” Donald insisted, giving her a reassuring smile. He really was a handsome man, sharp in his suit, his salt and pepper hair neatly cut and combed. He had always given off a sense of confidence that Leah had deeply felt. When he talked, people really listened and trusted what he had to say. It was probably what made him such a good lawyer.

Donald reached over and patted Leah’s hand. “I just want you to be prepared for the worst. We are gearing up for war here, and we want as much ammunition as possible on our side. That’s why I need to know everything, absolutely everything that might be used against you. I can’t create a good defense if I don’t have the whole picture.”

Leah met Rob’s eyes and she knew he saw the panic in hers. What if they found out? About the secret room under the loft? The pictures? The Mary Magdalenes? Rob pressed his lips together and gave a small shake of his head, but it wasn’t reassurance enough for Leah.

“Is there anything I should know?” Donald asked, looking between them.

“We’re living together,” Leah admitted, looking back at the lawyer. “In sin. Technically.”

Donald nodded. “I would get married as quickly as possible. Elope. Go to the Justice of the Peace if you have to, just so you have a marriage license on file with the state. Appearances are important now, more than ever.”

Leah nodded, remembering that this was the man who had arranged to fake her mother’s marriage license.

Donald wrote something else down, underlining it. Twice. “Is there anything untoward in your pasts I need to know about? Any history of mental illness in your families? Any criminal history?”

Leah and Rob looked at each other. She knew what he was thinking. How could they risk telling him?

Rob shook his head. “No, not that I’m aware of. I’m an upstanding citizen. We go to church. I donate generously.”

“Your age difference is going to be problematic,” Donald said, looking directly at Rob. “No judge is going to like the fact that you impregnated a girl half your age, even if you did end up married to her.”

“I understand that.” Rob’s jaw was working again. “But it’s your job to make them understand that we’re good people, that we love each other and we want to keep our baby.”

“Yes, that it is.” Donald flipped his notepad over the desk. “And trust me, I will do my job.”

“That’s why I hired you.” Rob held out his hand and Donald shook it.

“Not yet. There’s still a matter of my retainer.” Donald laughed and nodded toward the door. “You can pay it on your way out.”

“So there really is hope?” Leah asked. “I really might get her back?”

“I’m a cautious optimist,” Donald explained, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tented under his chin. “In these cases, I find social workers and doctors take advantage of naive young girls like yourself who know nothing about the law or their rights under it. They’re told all sorts of lies, like they’ll have to pay the hospital bill before they can take their baby-which isn’t true, of course. Or they’re told their babies are already promised to families.”

Leah gasped. “That’s exactly what she told me!”

“Of course it is.” Donald grimaced. “She wanted your baby. Every baby adopted means she’s doing her job, and of course, it means there is a large donation made from a happy adoptive couple to the church.”

Rob frowned. “Is it really so nefarious?”

“Oh, no.” Donald waved the thought away. “I think these social workers really believe they’re doing what’s best for the baby. I mean, if you hadn’t come riding in on your white horse to rescue her, Leah would probably be on the streets of New York right now, doing God only knows what, with a newborn. What kind of life is that for a child?”

Leah glared at him. “A better one than without her own mother…”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Donald countered. “I believe you have rights as a mother, and the law does too. And I will defend them. I bet Mrs. Goulden didn’t tell you that you have six months from the time of your baby’s birth to change your mind, even if you did sign the adoption papers.”

“No!” Leah sat up, eyes wide, her heart soaring.“Is that true?”

“Yes, it is,” the lawyer assured her. “I’m going to file a motion in court on Monday morning using that argument to attempt to force the social worker to relinquish your baby.”

“Oh, Rob!” Leah turned to him, seeing the light in his eyes, and she threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so happy!”

“Well don’t count all the chickens before they hatch.” The lawyer sighed, looking between the two of them. “I’ve filed motions like this before and have had social workers stall, giving the judge reason after reason that baby can’t yet be relinquished. They try to stall past the six month mark, because they know they law.”

Leah sat back in her chair. “Oh…”

The lawyer leaned forward, elbows on the table, looking directly at her. “Leah, this may be a long, hard fight. I want you to be prepared for that. We always prepare for the worst but hope for the best, right? What we want to do is create a case so solid they feel overwhelmed by the evidence against them and simply give up the fight before it comes to blows. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “I’m not an unfit mother, Mr. Highbrow.”

“I know you’re not, Leah,” he said softly, glancing toward the door. “Speaking of motherhood… you should know that your own mother misses you very much. I’ve known her a long time, and I can tell you that she truly only wants what’s best for you.”

Leah felt her spine stiffen at the mention of her mother, but the way he spoke about her, the look on his face, his demeanor-it all contained an element of truth she couldn’t deny. She could feel it, his words seeping in past her defenses, melting the ice around her heart.

Could it be true?

Rob stood, taking Leah’s hand, and when he stopped at the front desk to write a check-a retainer so large, it made Leah feel faint, watching him write all those zeros-she found herself face to face again with her mother. Rob gave her the check, turning to say goodbye to the lawyer, who was talking about motions and future depositions and subpoenas, but Leah didn’t pay attention.

She watched the way her mother filed the check, turning away to dab her eyes with a tissue she hid on the other side of her typewriter.