Eyes of a Child (6 page)

Carlo gave a slight smile. ‘Don't worry about me. He was in such a great mood last night it was absolutely obnoxious. Think I should ask him to up my allowance?'

It was, Terri decided, a teenage effort to make this easier. ‘Maybe a car phone,' Terri answered dryly. ‘To go in the Maserati Chris has ordered for your sixteenth birthday.'

‘I'm sure,' Carlo said, and then angled his head toward the library. ‘Does Elena know?'

‘Not really.' Terri hesitated. ‘It's hard explaining divorce to a five-year-old who just wants things the same.'

He nodded. ‘She won't get it for a while. She probably thinks her dad's a saint.'

Once more, the remark surprised her. ‘More like a martyr,' Terri answered. ‘It would be easier if he were.'

Carlo gave a philosophical shrug. Terri could almost read his thoughts: Richie was not part of his life and never would be, which was fine with him. The world of adults – even the ones closest to him – could hold only so much interest.

‘This won't be a regular thing,' Terri told him. ‘doing
Sesame Street
.'

Carlo grinned. ‘Suits me,' he said. ‘I've got a social life to work on. People who've passed puberty. But I'll make an exception for the “children of divorce” – if they're yours.' He turned to Terri. ‘You don't have any
more
of them, do you?'

Terri laughed. ‘Only Elena.'

‘Good deal.' Carlo poured some Happy Loops and milk into a bowl. ‘I'd better go amuse the munchkin.'

Chris was back shortly, glancing over his shoulder. ‘Talk about the Odd Couple. This is a side of Carlo I've seldom seen.'

‘He's a good kid, Chris. And he's had a good dad.' Terri glanced toward the library. ‘Think we can go for a walk? I don't want Elena to hear this.'

Chris nodded. Telling Elena they'd be back soon, they passed through the dining room and living area, the high ceilings and bright art, and stepped outside. Terri found herself looking for Richie's car.

They turned on Pacific Avenue, walking up Pierce Street to Alta Plaza, a gently rolling park that looked back down Pierce as it sloped for over a mile of city blocks to the blue water of San Francisco Bay. The bay was in front of them; to their left, on the rolling grass of the park, a group of kids played with a foam rubber football; the rhythmic volley of matches on four tennis courts sounded from behind them. They sat on a wooden bench, looking out at the bay.

‘You must feel pretty isolated,' Chris said at last.

A few simple words of understanding, Terri realized, could bring her close to tears. ‘I should never have come yesterday,' she said simply. ‘Richie sees you as a threat.'

‘I'm sure that's how he
wants
you to feel.' Chris's voice had a trace of suppressed anger. ‘It's not that I don't understand. My first instinct would be to protect Carlo – whatever it took. If you really think seeing me means losing Elena, then you can't see me. At least outside the office.'

Terri felt her throat constrict. ‘I don't need you to be rational. I just need you to hold me, all right?'

His face softened, and then he brought her close. ‘Someone once told me,' he murmured after a time, ‘that men have more answers than women have questions. I should remember that.'

Terri rested against his chest. ‘I can't take the money you've offered,' she said finally. ‘And you can't be my lawyer.'

‘Why not?'

‘This morning Richie handed me a subpoena for my bank records.' She leaned back, looking into his face. ‘You
know
what that's about: if you're giving me money, he'll claim that I can afford to pay him even more support. Plus he'll use it to imply that you enticed your impressionable young associate to leave her happy home. Which won't help me at all when it comes to Elena.'

‘For God's sake, Terri. It's not like we've committed adultery – in fact, we haven't committed
anything.
And even if we had, it's not relevant to custody.'

‘He'll
make
it relevant, and he'll try to make any relationship we have seem bad for Elena. Trust me about this.' Her voice rose. ‘We're lawyers, Chris – we know what lawsuits can be like. And this is going to be a bad one, with all the dirty tricks, twisted facts, and psychological warfare Richie can imagine. Except that it's about
my
child.'

‘There must be
some
way for you to buy him off.'

‘Not in exchange for Elena. He
needs
her too much.' Terri felt bitterness overcome her. ‘It's all about
Richie
, of course. He'll do almost anything to win Elena over – play the martyr, lie about me, treat her as a little wife – because he's in love with the man he sees in his daughter's eyes. And because she's his one excuse for not working.'

Chris gave a grimace of disgust. ‘Lots of people have jobs. ‘What's
his
problem?'

‘I don't think he
can
work for anyone. Before he stopped working entirely, he lost three law jobs. Or quit them; I could never quite tell. It was always someone else's fault – they were stupid or didn't understand him. But as long as I made money, and we could meet new people, every night was opening night – the great promoter-father and his loyal wife, coming soon to a cocktail party near you.' Her voice filled with self-contempt. ‘Elena became part of it too. Whenever Richie made dinner, we'd both praise him, as if he'd done something wonderful.'

‘Why on earth did you stay with him?'

How to explain, Terri wondered, what she herself did not understand? ‘I've always told myself that he might have problems,' she said at last, ‘but that he wasn't so bad. And
he
kept telling me that we were a
family
now and good for Elena. That was what I'd always wanted: a real family, where the parents loved each other and the kids felt safe.' She turned to him. ‘He
knew
that, Chris. Sometimes I think there's a part of me Richie knows better than I ever can. Like all my life, Richie was waiting for me, sure that one day I'd be there for him.'

Chris's look was searching. Terri sensed him wanting to know more, then decide that this was not the time. ‘What will you do now?' he asked.

All at once, Terri felt the pressure of facing Richie alone. ‘The next couple of weeks are key,' she said slowly. ‘First, we have to meet with the mediator. If that doesn't work, we're off to court to see who gets interim custody of Elena. For at least nine months, until there's a trial.

‘Richie's going to make a good impression, at least to start with – he always does. Two weeks isn't enough time for anyone to figure out who he is. Unless I show them the real Richie, he's got a chance of taking Elena.' Terri looked into Chris's face again. ‘Once I start doing that, he's going to retaliate any way he can. You're already on the list.'

Chris gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I'm only concerned that you won't let me represent you. Unless you mean to handle this yourself.'

Terri shook her head. ‘I don't know family law, and from what I hear, the judge in Alameda County hates parents in custody suits who represent themselves.' Her voice softened. ‘I can't do it, Chris, and neither can you. I don't want you near this. For your sake
and
Elena's.'

Chris stood, hands on hips, looking away from her. ‘Maybe you can pacify him. Maybe I'm buying you a fight you don't need. Maybe if he's the first to find someone, he'll go on to other things.'

Terri got up and went to him. ‘I want custody of Elena,' she said. ‘And then I want to spend time with you. I have to be careful, that's all. Just until this hearing's over.'

Chris became narrow-eyed with thought. His quiet made Terri anxious. ‘Is there anything you even want?' she asked. ‘Because for me, I have to put Elena first.'

‘What's bothering me is yesterday. All that restraint, and I'm paying for it anyhow.' He smiled down at her. ‘Two weeks is a long time to live with the knowledge that I'm an idiot.'

In her relief, Terri found herself laughing. ‘Two
hours
,' she said, ‘is a long time with Elena, unless you're seeking custody. We should rescue Carlo.'

When they returned, Carlo and Elena were still in the library. Elena had planted herself in his lap, and the floor was a mess. Carlo glanced at his watch with a look of mock annoyance, an important man with places to go and teenagers to see. ‘We've done a trip down memory lane,' he reported. ‘My childhood from seven to thirteen – puzzle by puzzle and game by game.' He looked at his father. ‘You saving this stuff for my kids or something? Or for the Smithsonian?'

Chris smiled. ‘Cooperstown,' he rejoined. ‘Along with your baseball glove and first athletic supporter. From Little League.'

‘What's an athletic support?' Elena asked Carlo.

‘Great, Dad.' Turning to Elena, Carlo grinned at her. ‘My dad wouldn't know. And I won't tell you till you're six. Give you something to look forward to.'

Elena put her arms on his shoulders, bumping her head against Carlo's. ‘Tell me
now,'
she said. ‘Or I'll never marry you. Ever.'

Watching their children, Chris and Terri shared the smile of parents.

Chapter
6

The mediator's office was a bare rectangle in the Alameda County Administrative Building, In Oakland. Terri and Richie had sat against a blank wall, several feet from each other; Alec Keene – a fortyish mediator with a salt-and-pepper beard, horn-rimmed glasses, and a quizzical expression – had turned his chair to face them.

Terri had felt tense, concerned about Keene's first impression. In a gray suit and white blouse, she looked like what she was – a lawyer who had come from work. But with his corduroy slacks, checked shirt, and sweater with its sleeves pulled up, Richie resembled the benign head of a creative preschool for children whose parents valued ceramics and free play. He gazed at Keene with a pleasant, expectant expression. Keene would need to have been a mind reader to know, as Terri did, that Richie had studied the local family-law procedures so carefully that he could have given Keene's opening speech himself.

‘So my central purpose here,' Keene summarized, ‘is to see whether we can resolve custody of Elena without the ordeal of a courtroom.'

He paused gazing from Terri to Richie. ‘I'm sure we'd both like that,' Richie said. His voice was hesitant, humbled by their joint responsibility. ‘I love Elena very much, and I know that Terri does too.'

Richie wanted to establish a persona, Terri saw at once, to make it harder to attack him. ‘We have thirteen days,' Keene told them, ‘before the hearing on support and interim custody. If the two of you can't come to some agreement, this office will make a recommendation to the court regarding interim custody until you
do
reach an agreement or permanent custody is awarded by the court.'

The not-so-tacit message was that compromise was better. ‘How can you do that,' Terri asked, ‘without any background beyond whatever we tell you?'

Keene nodded his acknowledgment. ‘That's why we'd much prefer that the parents, who really
do
know the child, try to work this out.' He looked to Richie and back again. ‘But if they can't someone has to resolve – and pretty quickly – the child's immediate situation.'

Terri leaned forward. ‘But doesn't that put too great an emphasis on this one meeting? As I understand it, interim custody orders tend to become permanent.'

Keene's eyes opened in an expression of candor. ‘Not always. But I admit that if the status quo seems to be working, the court may be reluctant to change it. Absent compelling reasons.'

‘What are those?' Richie interjected. ‘Can you give me an example?'

Keene touched his beard. ‘I'd say the real hot-button issues are child neglect, substance abuse, the mental instability of a parent, or evidence of physical or sexual abuse.' His tone became cautionary. ‘Those kinds of allegations are becoming more and more common. In cases where parents start playing to win, it's sometimes hard to tell whether we're dealing with truth or tactics.'

Richie shook his head, as if to signal his wonderment that people would exploit such problems. ‘That's not the situation here. Not between me and Ter.' He turned to Terri for affirmation. ‘I mean, we may disagree, but I'm sure that neither one of us questions each other's sincerity.'

Terri met his eyes, letting a quizzical smile play across her mouth. She could only hope that Keene would get the message: her husband was an actor, and she was too polite to say so. Richie turned back to the mediator, eyes narrowing in pretend hurt. How terrible, Terri thought to, play games for the future of a child.

Keene seemed to watch them both more closely. ‘Let me gather some data, just to get the mundane out of the way.' He turned to Terri. ‘Where do you work, Terri?'

His manner was that of a man too well-mannered to show his boredom with routine. Terri knew better: her trial lawyer's instincts told her that he had already read this as a potential custody fight and was trying to determine who could best spend time with Elena. The next few answers could damage her beyond repair.

‘As a trial lawyer.' Her voice was cool and measured. ‘At the law offices of Christopher Paget.'

She felt Richie stir. Keene glanced at him quickly, then leaned toward Terri, as if something had just struck him. ‘You defended the Carelli case, didn't you?'