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Authors: Lorhainne Eckhart

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BOOK: The Forgotten Child
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Chapter Thirty-Five

 

His father was Rodney Friessen. He was established, hard headed and respected. To reach out and call him was, for Brad, admitting he’d been wrong. But he was—wrong, that is. In the end, he swallowed his pride and sought the help he and Trevor needed. It had been a bitter pill to swallow. His Mom had picked up the extension after listening on the sidelines for half an hour. To his daddy’s credit he never once said, “I told you so” or “you should have listened to me”. Instead, he listened without judgment, and then offered his help and some solid advice for a viable plan to resolve this situation, which meant removing Trevor from this acidic environment. Telling his parents Trevor had autism had been heart wrenching. His mother cried but his father remained silent. Then they both said they would be on the next plane back to Seattle.

Two days later Brad picked up his parents from the floatplane he’d chartered from Seattle. They’d not seen Trevor since he was a baby, so he was unprepared for their welcome.


Brad, where’s my grandson.” His mom, Becky, was short, gray haired, plump and flowing with life. She hugged him and then bent down to Trevor who stood hiding behind Brad’s leg. She took his hand and talked to him. She pulled a wrapped present from her handbag, which he grabbed. His “eeks” and squeaks were quiet for the first time, as he unwrapped two hot wheels cars and an Elmo talking book.


Cool gifts, Mom.” Trevor seemed to think so too, as he sat on the grass and played with the first car he unwrapped.

His father was a tall man with short-cropped gray hair and deeply etched lines on his face. He hovered behind his wife, hesitant, the awkwardness still there. It wasn’t until Brad extended his hand that his father reached out and pulled him into his arms instead. Their conversation was stilted at first, until his daddy pulled him aside to let him know they were prepared to stay as long as it took.

The plan was for Trevor to return with his grandparents, to Baja. He would stay with them until Brad resolved this battle with Crystal.

On the drive back to the ranch, his Mom told him of a lady she hired who had experience with autistic children. From the minute Becky got off the telephone with Brad, she’d researched autism, the therapy Brad told her about and how best they could help Trevor. She was glued to Trevor the entire ride back and insisted on walking the ranch before taking Trevor in.

When Crystal saw his parents arrive, she stumbled on the porch.

Becky cooked dinner. The conversation around the table flowed from the cattle, the dairy contract, and then to Trevor. His father was masterful, charming, when he wanted to be, and ruthless. But it was his Becky who suggested Trevor come and visit. Crystal was hesitant, but his father cornered her with his charisma, leaving her no room to maneuver. Right after dinner, Rodney produced a letter of consent. Brad signed it first, and then passed it to Crystal. He noted her reluctance as she glanced at the phone. But Becky soothed her ruffled feathers and had her sign before she could find an excuse and change her mind.

Brad’s parents left in the morning, with the signed consent for customs and their grandson, Trevor.


You call me as soon as you get things squared. Your Mom’s right on top of what needs to be done for Trevor. So you focus on what you need to do.”


Thanks again, Daddy. And I’m sorry, I should have listened.”


It’s done, but you call me if you need help.”

To have that support was like a return to the fold. For the first time, he felt his father had his back.

The fight with Crystal escalated the moment he returned home.


You railroaded me, you and your parents. I never should have signed that letter.” Brad smiled as he walked out the door.

****

Brad was finishing a ham and cheese sandwich when Crystal strode in, dropping her leather coat on the chair and dumping her purse on the table. She kissed his cheek. “Surprise.” She dropped two tickets on the table.


What’s this?” He picked them up and opened the flap.


The Cook Islands, I booked us a beachside resort for ten days, nothing but sunshine, beach and being pampered, you and me. She traced her long painted nail up his arm.


You’re unbelievable.” He pushed away his plate, threw down the tickets and walked out.

He was determined to do this right and heed his lawyers’ advice to walk away from a fight. It was hard, especially the way she goaded him. He phoned Keith again and yelled. “Hurry and get me that court date. I want her out of my house.”

Brad cancelled her credit cards, emptied their joint bank account, and took off his name. It was now solely hers. And he left firm instructions with the manager of the Bank; she no longer had access to any of his funds.

She’d stormed into the house when he was in his office. She thrown her purse at him, then a book and anything else she could grab. “You asshole, I was in the city shopping for a new pair of shoes and my card was declined. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is, I tried every card and each one was declined. The manager was called and she took my cards and cut them up.”

Brad leaned his head back and howled. He laughed so hard tears leaked out. “I’d have paid good money to see that, baby.”

Of course, she grabbed his jade bookend and launched it at his head, he ducked thank goodness, and the glass unit behind him shattered.

Of course, the very next day Brad’s lawyer received a very angry call from her lawyer. A demand for maintenance for his client or they’d be suing him for damages. It was going to get nasty.


Brad, listen to me, she’s already alleged in her suit against you she’s seeking full custody of Trevor. But now according to her lawyer, she’ll rescind this if you agree to drop the suit to divorce her, and reinstate her credit cards, and full access to your bank account.”


Keith, she’s dreaming. I’m done with her; I’m not giving her nothing.” Brad squeezed his cell phone as he stomped out of the barn.


Let me finish. It gets better. According to her lawyer, Crystal’s alleging undue cruelty to Trevor through this ABA therapy treatment you started. It seems they’re able to track down some experts who’ll cite recent claims that it leaves these children not only robotic, but also scarred with devastating long-term effects, like a syndrome similar to what veterans from the war suffer.”


I’m going in the house right now and I’m throwing her out. Trevor’s with my parents. Let her fight me from somewhere else.”

Keith shouted so loud Brad lifted the phone away from his ear. “I told you before to cool your temper. You do a stupid ass move like that and I guarantee you’ll spend the night cooling your ass in a holding cell. And I’ll leave you there. Then she’ll have a restraining order against you by morning before you get out of lockup. The locks will be changed on your house and she’ll have a fast track to gaining full custody of Trevor.” When he hung up, ice water could have flowed through his veins. He shoveled out a few horse stalls before he’d calmed down, and then he called Keith back. “Listen Keith, you mentioned something about some experts who said this therapy for Trevor causes some war vet syndrome.”

Keith let out a heavy sigh. “Brad, there was a court battle in Canada a few years back. A group of parents took the government to court to obtain medically necessary treatment for their autistic children. The court battle went to the Supreme Court of Canada. In the Auton case, The Supreme Court in BC dismissed the information Crystal’s using from these experts as not valid, yet it was still published. Your Lovaas ABA therapy has been proven genuine, so we’ll use her theory against her. But the judge may be swayed by her interest as a mother torn, not wanting the therapy, by all the perilous misinformation that’s out there.”


Listen up, Brad. I’m going to warn you again, because she knows what buttons to push to set you off. Control that temper of yours, be smart, think before you say anything and call me if you’re not sure.” That last remark had brought a slight smile to his lips. Keith knew him well, too well sometimes.


Plan B, I’ve hired a private detective I used to work with in Seattle. I guarantee you he’ll dig and find any deep dark secret and skeleton we can use on Crystal.”

Brad kicked at a pile of manure. “Keith, something’s been bothering me—Crystal coming back when she did and knowing things that were going on at the ranch she shouldn’t have. I don’t know, it’s as if she’s got someone on the inside feeding her information.”


I’ll get Byrd, my guy in Seattle, to check it out.”

Brad stared at the house he loved with such venom. “Thanks, Keith.”

He pocketed his phone and grabbed a rake. “May as well clean out the rest of these stalls.”

 

* * * *

 

Two weeks and three days had passed since he last touched Emily. He should have called before now. If nothing else, to tell her how much he cared.

Keith called and he raced into town. They spent hours strategizing. When Brad left, he was distracted, but he didn’t miss the small brunette who gasped, ducked her head and attempted to walk around him. “Whoa, Em, what are you doing?” He reached out and grasped her arm. But she yanked it away and when she raised her head, he was rocked by the blazing fire that seeped from her eyes. “Em, are you okay? I know I should have called.” Whoa, if the sparks flying from her were any indication, she was madder than a nest of angry hornets.


Well, funny you should ask. Just answer one question for me. What kind of kicks do you get by pulling that kind of crap on me? How could you, Brad? What did I ever do to you?”

He was stunned by her hostility. Her eyes had taken on a deeper hurt, as if she hated him. His gut twisted when the tears popped out in her eyes. “Look, Em, I’m sorry I didn’t call, I have no excuse. You’ve been on my mind almost every minute of the day. I just didn’t know what to tell you, I’ve been fighting to keep my head above water with this divorce and custody of Trevor. I just didn’t want you getting dragged into the middle of it.”

The look she gave him at that moment, Brad wondered if she’d ever speak to him again. Then she dropped her eyes and shook her head, and stepped around him to walk away. And then changed her mind, stepped into his space, tilting her face up to his, with all the fire and fury blazing in her eyes. “Your divorce? Are you kidding me, you sure have a funny way of showing it. Have a nice holiday, Brad?” This time when she stepped back, she was walking away.

It was pure instinct to grab her arm. “Whoa, just a second. What the hell are you talking about? What holiday?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t play games, Brad. I really thought you were different; that you were someone with values and integrity. What hurts more is how you could have done that to me. You know how hard I’ve been struggling and it hasn’t been easy finding another job.”

Okay, now she really had him confused, and he felt a sticky sick feeling expand inside him like a ball being pumped with air. A few curious people milled around. They were getting loud. Brad took hold of her arm and pulled her with him to his truck parked ten feet away. He yanked open the door. “Get in now.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

 

She couldn’t believe his high handedness. What a bully. She should scream and call for help. When she glanced up, she was unprepared for his rock solid caveman routine. He was going to pick her up and toss her in. So wrenched her arm away, threw him a furious gaze, and stepped back. “No.”


Get in now or I swear I will physically put you in and really give these people an eye full. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but you’re going to tell me. But not here!” A few people stopped in front of the truck.

An old lady hobbled over with a cane. “Brad, dear, maybe you should let the lady go.”

Emily went to step away but he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I can’t do that, you see she just received some unsettling news and hasn’t been acting rationally, so I need to make sure she gets home before she does or says anything that can’t be undone.”


Oh, I see.” The white haired lady waved as she wandered away.

Emily gaped; she wanted to yell after the woman. Tell her it was Brad who was a liar, a cheat, the devil himself. But she narrowed her eyes and climbed in, smacking his hand away when he touched her arm. The door slammed shut as soon as she cleared it.

He strode around to the driver’s side, wrenched it open and climbed in. He slammed the door, gunned the engine and threw it in reverse before backing out of the parking space. He didn’t say a word as he drove straight to her house, pulled up in front and turned off the engine. “Katy home?” There was no kindness in his tone.


No.” She kept her reply aloof, not willing to give anything.

He came around to her side and yanked the door open. Brad pulled her out of the truck, holding her arm and slammed the door behind her. “Let’s go.”

He led her up the walkway, the concrete steps and to the front door. She unlocked the front door; he opened it and closed it behind them. Emily dropped her purse on the sofa and continued into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulders. He stalked behind her like a wild animal. She needed to busy herself so she plugged in the kettle. When she turned, he was right there. So she turned around and reached for a mug in the cupboard and grabbed the box of tea. “Just leave it, Em. Turn around and look at me.”

BOOK: The Forgotten Child
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ads

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