Nina

Chapter 12

You know, back to the funeral ... Jennifer's mom and dad. I saw them there. They were cordial, as always was the case, and they hugged on Sandy and stood with her between themselves and me during the service.

After the graveside service, Jennifer's mom, Glenda Garrett, bent over to speak to Sandy as we were leaving. "Sandy," she said. "We love you, child. We want ... Well, keep in touch." Glenda stood and looked at me, unsmiling, her expression something I couldn't parse. "Dan, we'd like to see a lot of Sandy."

"I think that's a good idea, Mizz Glenda. My parents are gone. Grandparents are good for kids." I was being honest. Yes, Glenda was one of those 'difficult' personalities. I can't help but believe that it was her influence, her strange idea of status and entitlement that screwed up Jennifer in the first place. But that wasn't enough to keep a little girl from visiting her grandma.

Andrew Garrett, Sandy's grandfather, he was probably the most hen-pecked guy in the state. However, I do know how he survived. He and Glenda used to do a mixed drink every evening when he came in from work, or after dinner, now that he was retired. She thought it somehow genteel and sophisticated. He saw it as an excuse for the smell of alcohol on his breath. He kept a half-gallon of bourbon in his workshop, replenished frequently.

Jennifer had a sister, too, but she was out of the picture. Actually, the sister was out of her freakin' mind, living with some sort of spiritual guru or guide or whatever on a farm or ashram or whatever scam he was running. She didn't even come in for her sister's funeral, and I'd seen her exactly twice in the years I was married to Jennifer.

So that's where we were. Me. Nina. Sandy. There are crazier 'blended families' in the world today. This one is ours.

Friday after work I visited the local rental emporium that gets a significant portion of business from the facility where I work, a fact that I mentioned (TWICE. Pointed out my name on a couple of purchase orders) and rented an enclosed trailer. As in, "Ten bucks to cover the paperwork and we'll call it good, Mister Gleason!"

We went to dinner Friday night in Nina's little car, rather than tug that trailer through parking lots.

Saturday morning we were up early, on the road at six, through the McDonalds for a bag of breakfast, then we were back on the road with a piano work on the stereo, a fact not unnoticed by the ten year old in the back seat.

"Dad, can I take piano lessons? I wanna play stuff like that."

"Are you gonna be serious about it? I don't like that 'flavor of the week' thing, little girl."

"I know, Dad." She huffed. "I'm serious about it."

"You have to be. There's a pretty long road from where you are today to playing Mozart."

"Yes, Dad, I know..." she sounded slightly exasperated.

Nina walked up to the little bonfire we had going between me and Sandy and dumped gasoline on it. "Dan, I'd like to take lessons with her. We're BOTH beginners."

Apparently there was another Plan being implemented. I thought I'd test to see if I was right. "So where did you two decide to put the piano?"

Sandy said, "That short wall between the door to the kitchen and the hall. You'll have to move a bookcase."

I'd been had, and what's worse, I was actually happy about it. "Nina, do you think you two can look into who might be a suitable teacher?"

Squeal! "Thank you, Daddy!"

Nina just looked at me and smiled.

The actual trip, one way, was almost four hundred miles. Somewhere along the ride we changed the CD to something else.

Nina laughed. "Oak Ridge Boys? Are you KIDDING!"

Sandy giggle. "Daddy sings the bass part! Show 'er, Daddy!"

Okay ... Call it a weakness. Apparently it's contagious, because I soon had the three of us singing along in harmony as the miles rolled by.

Lunch was a chain restaurant just off the interstate, and mid-afternoon, we pulled up on the residential street in front of Harry and Jennifer's house. There was a car I didn't recognize in the driveway, and since it didn't have dealer plates, I surmised it wasn't Harry's. We walked to the door.

Sandy barged right in. "Harry! It's meeee..."

"Well, hello, Sandy," Glenda said.

That explained the unidentified car.

She looked up at me and Nina standing in the door. The smile that was there for Sandy waned quickly. "Do come in," she said. "Harry's not here. He had to be at work. I've been helping him with Jennifer's things. It's hard for him, you know."

"I can't see where it would be any easier for you, Glenda," I said. I was honest. The lady'd lost her daughter. That had to be tough.

"One does what one must, Dan," she said. "You're here to get Sandy's things?"

"Yes," I said. "We brought a trailer."

"Dan, can I talk to you a minute?" she said.

"Sure!' I said.

"In private?"

"Oooo-kay," I said. We walked outside. Sandy was sitting with Nina, holding a picture of her and her mom, crying. Nina looked at me and nodded acknowledgment, and went back to stroking Sandy's hair, consoling a sobbing little girl.

I followed Glenda outside.

She turned. "Dan, I know you're newly married ... to that girl..."

The little twist of her tone changed my mode from friendly and sympathetic to wary. Very wary.

"We want Sandy to live with us, Dan." Her grey eyes were hard.

"Glenda," I said, "Sandy was going to ask Jenn about moving in with us, Nina and me, this summer. She fits well with Nina and me. We'll make sure she visits you any time she wants. Whenever it's okay with you and Andy. But she's MY daughter. I want her with me."

"Dan, I don't think she should be exposed to you and your teen bride."

"Glenda," I said, struggling to maintain decorum, "We are decent people, Nina and I. We ARE married. I don't remember you objecting to what Sandy was exposed to when Jennifer hauled her out of our house to move in with her boyfriend six months before the divorce was final."

"That's immaterial. History lesson. Dan, I'm serious. You'd have your freedom, you and uh ... Nina, is it? You two could do whatever you wanted, when you wanted. Sandy's just gonna be in YOUR way..."

I tried to defuse the situation. "Glenda, I know it's tough for you right now, losing Jennifer. Let's just let things go as they are. You'll be able to think clearly in a few days..."

"Don't you DARE patronize me, Dan Gleason!" she spat. "I know what I'm doing!"

"No, Glenda, I don't think you do. Do you honestly mean that you were a bigger part of Sandy's life since Jennifer left me than I was? Seriously? I can't believe you think like that." I was struggling now to keep civil.

"Okay, Dan," she said through tight lips. "We'll leave things as they are. I will help you locate Sandy's things. I've found some photos and things of Jennifer's that Sandy should have."

"Okay, Glenda," I said.

Nina looked at me curiously when we walked back into the house. We loaded boxes and bags and a raft of clothes on hangers and lastly, a cat carrier with a grey male tabby cat who was not happy with the disrespect being shown him.

Nina and I were rearranging the boxes in the trailer. Sandy was inside with her grandmother, being shown photo albums.

"What went on out here, baby?" she asked. "I couldn't make out words, but your voice..."

"Don't say anything to Sandy, sweetheart, but Glenda wants Sandy to live with them. I told her 'no way'."

"You're serious? What's she thinking?"

"Sweetie," I said, "She said that it would allow us to have our lives to ourselves, without having to worry about Sandy."

"How just too wonderfully admirable of her, Dan! Yeah, I didn't expect to end up with Sandy a month and a half ago when we got married, but you know what?!?!? I LIKE her!" She paused and looked into my eyes, that ebony hair in delightful disarray. "You aren't considering it, are you?"

"No. Not really. Sandy's lost her mom. She doesn't need her dad dumping her off on grandma."

I got a kiss on the cheek. "Good! That's my Dan! And OUR Sandy."

We went inside and retrieved Sandy. Harry drove up, parking on his own lawn. Sandy ran up and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Harry..." she said. He bent over and she kissed him on the cheek. I walked up to him as Sandy went to talk to her cat.

"Harry, I'm sorry. Again. And Sandy ... I know she's not yours, but she likes you. Send her a card or talk to her every now and then. This is hard on her. Her whole life turned upside down."

"I appreciate that, Dan. She's a good kid, but Jenn used to get exasperated at her. Said, in her words, she was so much YOU. But yeah, she's a good kid. Smart. Real smart. I'll keep in touch, for her sake."

Nina came up behind me. "We're ready to roll, Dan."

"I'll see you around, Harry," I said. I got in the car without looking for Glenda, and we drove off with a pet-friendly hotel as a destination for the night. We parked the SUV and trailer and the four of us, me, Nina, Sandy and one fuzzy Mister Mittens who was glaring at the world from his barred vantage in the pet carrier.

Bathing suits came out and we did an hour at the pool, then retreated to the room and enjoyed delivery pizza for dinner. The three of us sat cross-legged on one of the two queen beds and played cards for a while, then the two of them located a nature show on TV and we went to sleep.

At six the next morning, we did the reverse of the previous day's trip. Arriving at home, I backed the trailer into the drive and we started unloading. After the first three boxes were inside, I did the unloading while Nina and Sandy started putting things away. Mister Mittens was still in the pet carrier, having a stare-down through the bars at Sam, who was considering this NEW intrusion into his carefully managed household.

Once I got the trailer emptied, I walked into Sandy's room, interrupting a discussion about the order one uses to hang one's clothing. "I'm gonna go turn in the trailer," I said. "If you two come with me, we can go out to eat. If you stay, I expect to see a meal in progress when I get back.

Sandy looked at Nina. "Honestly, Nina, how DO you put up with 'im?" Giggle.

"It's the price I pay to associate with his bright children," Nina quipped right back.

"Well I suppose one must make sacrifices..." My precocious daughter.

We dropped the trailer off and went to the Italian restaurant for dinner.

'"Sandy, this is where your dad and I went on our first date."

"Really?" Sandy said.

"Really," I answered. "And I didn't even know it was a date. I thought I was bringing a bright young high school girl out to eat after working with her on her trigonometry."

Dinner was a happy affair. Maybe happier for them than me, because I had this nagging feeling that Glenda was going to be a problem. I pushed it out of my mind and enjoyed dinner, and we went home.

Sandy walked in and went to the cat carrier. "Dad, can I let Mister Mittens out now?"

"Sure, baby," I said. "But they might not get along very well. They're two cats used to having their own houses. Now they have to share."

She opened the carrier and Mister Mittens walked warily out into his new home. Sam observed from the arm of the sofa. Okay. That looked pretty good. The next forty-five minutes was occupied by various showers and post-shower rituals.

We played a round of rummy, the stereo on in the background, and then what would become another ritual for us, three mugs of herbal tea, relaxing for bed.

Sandy kissed me and Nina good night. "I'll sleep in my room tonight," she announced. Maybe Mister Mittens will sleep in there with me. Sam does."

I tucked her in. "I love you, Sandy."

"I love you too, Dad," she said.

Nina and I retired to our bedroom, closing the door. She turned to me, throwing arms around my neck. "Long day, honey," she said. "Now, is there anything that Glenda can really do about getting Sandy away from us?"

"Not that I know of, baby," I said. "But all the same, I'm calling my lawyer in the morning." I ran my hands down her sides, savoring her form through the cloth of her nightshirt.

"You could do better if this thing was off," she whispered. I peeled her nightshirt off over her head, watching her sassy hair splay out, and she slid her panties down, kicking her feet free. "Now yours," she whispered.

I complied. We loved on each other with hands and mouths and she tugged me into her and she had a shuddering little orgasm and I filled her with my own.

"We need to put our nightshirts back on, baby" she said afterward. We did. She rolled on her side and I spooned up behind her. I put my arm around her and she put my hand over her breast and whispered, "I love you, Dan."

"I love you, too, Nina." And we went to sleep.

Monday morning. Nina got up with me, despite my suggestion that she sleep in. Apparently we made enough noise to wake Sandy because she walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

"Hi, sleepy head," I said.

"Mornin', Dad. Mornin', Nina."

"How'd you sleep?" Nina asked.

"Two cats. One on each side. Ever time I move I have to move one."

"That means they'll do okay. As long as there's a little girl between 'em." Of course, I was immediately made to be a liar when two cats sauntered into the kitchen in close tandem. I was out the door before seven and in my office before seven thirty.

After the staff meeting, I retired to my office and closed the door. My computer gave me the phone number. I dialed.

A pleasant female voice answered, "Grantham Law Offices. Can I help you?"

I explained who I was, cited some work that Dodd Grantham had done for me and vice versa, added a remark about us being in high school together, and asked if he could call me back. I figured, 'yeah, right ... that'll happen... ' but was pleasantly surprised shortly afterward when the phone rang and I answered.

"Dan Gleason, XYZCorp, can I help you?"

"Hey, Dan. This is Dodd Grantham. Maybe I can help you?"

"Dodd," I said, "If I need to come to your office, just say so, but I got a question."

"Shoot," he said. "I don't start chargin' until you make me do research."

I explained the situation. "Can she take Sandy? Court order or something?"

"Look, Dan ... Under the conditions of the custodial parent's death, the surviving parent retains custody. That's you. The only exception is if you're an unfit parent. You're not. And there's no judge in THIS town that would rule you as unfit."

"What about an eighteen year old wife?" I asked.

"Oh, that might raise an eyebrow, but you could be the pole dancer in a transvestite bar and they wouldn't say anything these days. You're not in prison. You're employed. You're not on drugs. You're fit, as far as the courts are concerned."

"Good," I said. "So what do you think the ex-mother in law is thinking?"

"Wellll," Dodd said, "If she came to me, I'd tell her that her only chance would be to get you to sign over custody voluntarily. If it was me, and she'd already asked you herself, I think my final step would be to call you myself and make a few carefully crafted but idle threats to see if you'd fold your hand."

"My, you lawyers are a devious bunch, aren't you?" I laughed.

"Law ain't like that electrical stuff you play with. Rules in MY game are what we choose to make them."

I laughed again. "Well, they may pull your license for it, but you've actually helped me today."

Dodd chuckled. "Glad to do it. But hey, new wife, kid, you need to get your will straightened out. Come see me. I'll fix you up, and won't screw you too bad."

"You know, I need to do that. Thanks for reminding me."

"Yeah. And if you get hauled into court over this, let me know. We'll win. And if they take you to court and they lose, they'll pay me, not you."

"Okay, Dodd. I appreciate the advice."

"No problem," he said. "You helped me on that suit last year." I'd given him a professional report on an issue that showed up in an almost frivolous lawsuit.

I opened my door, considerably relaxed, and left the office in my golf-cart to survey my kingdom.

Lunch today was a sandwich, packed with love, so I was told, by Nina.

After lunch I had a roll of drawings spread out on the table in my office when my phone rang. Nina. "Hey, baby," I said.

"Hey, guy," she answered. She didn't sound too happy. "You're getting ready to get a phone call from a lawyer. He called here looking for your work number. I told him I couldn't give it out. He said he'd get it anyway."

I recounted my earlier conversation with Dodd. "Still, though, it seems like she's going to give it a try."

"We'll do okay. In the meantime, I won't let her call Sandy. But if Sandy wants to call her..."

"Discourage it," I said. "I don't know how, but I don't want her playing games with Sandy."

"Okay, sweetie. I'll have dinner on the stove when you get home, okay?"

"Okay, love ya, sweetie! Bye." I hung up.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, the phone rang. "Dan Gleason, XYZCorp, can I help you?"

"Mister Gleason, I am Howard Smythe, attorney for Mr. & Mrs. Andrew Garrett, parents of your deceased ex-wife. They are formally requesting custody of their grand-daughter. It would be easiest for all involved if you'd sign a voluntary consent to this."

"Sir, I know who you are." I did. He was the go-to guy if you wanted to hit up Wal-Mart for tripping in the parking lot or wanted to claim you found a dismembered body in your new refrigerator or a mouse in your Pepsi or whatever. Ambulance-chasers had to push HIM out of the way. He was a joke, fighting against his payment of child support for his own kids who were living with their mom whom he'd divorced to marry his new legal assistant. I continued. "I see no reason to comply with that request. My daughter has been with me for the last three weeks. She's faced the trauma of losing her mom, and I'll be damned if I subject her to the feelings that her dad doesn't want her around."

"Mr. Gleason, I advise you that we may likely file suit for custody. It could be unpleasant for you and your new wife." Oily. That's how he sounded. Oily.

"Howard," I said, not giving him the honor of using his last name, "In the immortal words of General McAuliffe of Bastogne, 'Nuts!'. Do what you have to do. Good day, sir!" Clunk. I hung up.

My next move was to alert Dodd Grantham. "Head's up," I told him.

I went home seething over the audacity of Glenda. I pulled Nina aside and explained what had transpired.

"I think we should explain it to her, Dan. She's smart. She can grasp what's going on."

"Okay, baby. Let's go have a family talk." When we walked into the living room, she looked up.

"Uh-oh, looks serious," she said.

We sat down. Nina was at my side. "Come sit here," I said.

She perched on my knee. "Dad? You look serious."

"It is serious, baby. Your grandmother wants you to go live with them."

Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine and Nina's. "but I like it here. Ya'll do want me, right?" Her face was darkened with concern now.

"Of course we do, little one. We're both very happy to have you with us. We make a neat family."

"That's what I thought. Nina and I had fun today. Tomorrow we're s'posed to talk with piano teachers. Nina's gonna learn with me."

I closed my eyes. Why did anyone want to hurt my daughter now?

"I don't want to go live with gran'ma, Dad. I dunno, she's ... strange. I mean, she's my gran'ma, and I love 'er, but I don't want to live there."

"Sweetie, the only way you'd go there is if YOU told me and Nina that moving there was what you wanted. Not what your grandma wanted. But there may be a fight. With lawyers. I ... we wanted you to be prepared."

She looked sad. Now I questioned my wisdom in telling her. I'd just added uncertainty to her life when she was already shaken.

"You're my precious little girl, baby. Nina and I will do everything we can to keep you here. Don't worry. I talked with a lawyer today and he tells me we can't lose."

"Okay, Dad. 'cuz I doubt that Gran'ma would buy me a piano."

Nina said, "Come on, let's eat dinner. I talked to my Baptist grandmother, and I have made us a casserole."

"What religion do I have to find to get pie in this house?" I joked.

We started settling into something like a routine. Sandy went with Nina to the library and helped out with the kid programs, and of course, hauled back a bunch of books. We added another laptop to the house stable. I heard nothing from anybody for a couple of days.

On Thursday evening, we were just getting the table set for dinner when there was a knock on my door. I got served. Family Court. In the case of Daniel Gleason vs. Glenda Garrett, re: custody of minor child, Sandra Gleason.

Nina and Sandy sat beside me on the sofa as I read the legalese. "Judgment of fitness." "Best interests of the child."

In my engineer's mind I recalled the part of Dodd's advice that said, " And there's no judge in THIS town that would rule you as unfit", and countered that with " Rules in MY game are what we choose to make them." I preferred laws from people named Ohm and Boyle and Thevenin.

I did my best to reassure my family. It's a difficult thing to do when you need reassurance yourself.

I called Dodd Grantham as soon as I thought I could get through. He was incredulous. "Can you fax it to me?"

"How about scan and email?"

"Even better." He gave me an address. "I'll look over it and call you back. We'll know how this is gonna shake out."

Thirty minutes later the phone rang in my office. "Dan Gleason, XYZCorp, can I help you?"

"Dan, this is Dodd. Things move fast with these cases. You've got a hearing next Thursday in family court. These things don't look like courtroom stuff on TV. If we're lucky, we can end the whole thing then. If not, well, we'll just move to the next step."

"What are we talking about? A hearing?"

"Yeah, family court judge sits. They appoint a social worker on the child's behalf. That's the sticky part, I guess. The social worker is going to interview you, your child, your new wife, trying to determine the suitability of the home the child is living in. They'll also interview the grandmother and grandfather and see what kind of home they have." He paused. "Now let me ask you something, and please understand, I'm your lawyer and nothing you tell me goes any further. I just need to know what they might find to use on their side."

"I can't think of anything, Dodd," I said. "I'm employed, financially solvent, substantial savings, own my house, haven't even had a traffic ticket in years. I don't drink, other than socially. No drugs."

"What about your wife?"

"Nina? Graduated two months ago with honors. She was eighteen before we really started dating. We're legally married. Same thing. No drugs, no alcohol?"

"D'you understand 'moral turpitude'?" he asked.

"Yes I do." I told him about Nina's mom, and her grandmother, and Nina's two incidents, one at school. "But she was a minor. There shouldn't be any record. She wasn't charged."

"Well, Dan," he said, "I know that, but this isn't a criminal proceeding, and if somebody has knowledge of either incident, they may bring it up." He paused. "Honestly, Dan, I still don't see us as having a problem. I think our friend is just posturing, hoping that the weight of his name is going to scare you into giving up."

"Ah, for heaven's sake, Dodd! It's freakin' Howard Smythe. In a just society he'd be dead from a duel years ago. He's the caricature of the 99% of lawyers that give the rest a bad name."

"I know, Dan," he chuckled. "I don't think a sane lawyer would've taken this case. But we still need to treat it as serious. Can you and your wife and daughter come by the office Monday or Tuesday? I need to talk with all of you, just to make sure we're all on the same sheet of music."

"Dodd, these two are the love of my life," I said.

"I understand completely, Dan. I just want to give 'em a little guidance about what to expect, and to make sure we don't have any traps waiting. Monday then? Four o'clock?"

"That works," I said.

That evening we had a family discussion about what I'd learned. All of it. Nina explained the high school incident to Sandy. She glossed over the attempted molestation with 'a bad man tried to do bad things to me and I fought him off as best I could."

Saturday we shopped for pianos. A teacher had been selected, an older woman who played Sundays at her church and who'd actually had a little career in music. She recommended a music store to visit. Nina told me, "Mizz Lester says these people will do us right. Just mention her name."

"Ah, Mizz Lester," the salesman said. "She's been teaching for years. Here's what will work. It's used. Older. But it'll work until you come back to buy a Steinway. Who's taking lessons."

"Me an' Nina," Sandy said.

"Oh, really?" he smiled. "And you want the books Mizz Lester uses, too?"

"I guess," I said. "I'm not packing this thing home by myself. When can you deliver?"

"Monday afternoon? Tuesday?"

"Tuesday will work. That gives me time to move things around."

"We have to move a bookcase," Nina smiled.

The next stop was sixty miles up the road to an outdoor store. We left there with a pink kayak on a trailer. Yes, I was operating on the assumption that we were a family now, and a family we would be.

Sunday we made an event of driving to a park and spending the day bicycling and picnicking.

Monday I scooted off the job a little early and brought my bunch to Dodd's office. I was in my 'engineer at work' cloths. Nina and Sandy were dressed almost identically in jeans and blouses and athletic shoes, two pair of blue eyes, identical haircuts, one blonde, and one dark brunette.

We were ushered into Dodd's office. I introduced my girls to Dodd. I think he was impressed. Neither of them looked particularly abused. Dodd said so.

"So let me tell you what's going on with this hearing, folks," he said, smiling his best smile. "We have an advantage, I think. Dan, Nina, they may question you a bit hard, but Sandy, they'll be very careful about how they talk to you. All they want to know is how you really feel about things."

You don't give Sandy an opening like that. "Mister Dodd, I feel like they're crazy. I was gonna ask to come live with Dad this summer when I got home. Before Mom..." her eyes wetted and she suppressed a sob.

"Even with him marrying Miss Nina?" Dodd asked.

"Especially since he married Miss Nina. Don't'cha think it would've been hard, I mean, with Dad workin', for me to stay by myself? "But with Miss Nina..."

"Nina? Your thoughts?" He asked.

Nina sucked in a breath. I knew that as a sign she was going into her 'soliloquy mode'. "Mister Dodd, I knew that Dan had a daughter before we got married, and that she'd be part of our life together. Yes, I was worried. I've heard some bad stories about step-mom relationships, but I love Dan and I started talking to Sandy on the phone way before she joined us for the summer. We hit it off. Before we came back off vacation she brought up the idea of her wanting to move in with us, and I know her, and I know Dan, and I know me, and I know it would work. I don't know how to characterize our relationship. Maybe sisters, sort of, but we worked it all out so far."

"You just tell 'em that on Thursday, young lady," Dodd said. "Now, folks, I expect that in a day or two you'll get an unannounced visit from social services to determine the suitability of your home."

Nina giggled. "Then Dan needs to move a bookcase for the piano we're getting tomorrow."

That put us back at the house. Nina was in the kitchen.

"Something with noodles, Dan," she said, and she started cooking while Sandy and I moved stacks of books to get that bookcase to a movable state, helped tremendously by two cats who thought that every box needed to be tried on for size.

I and my diminuitive helper had the books out of the case and stacked in my office/spare bedroom. Nina gave me a hand scooting the case into the space I'd made for it, and then she looked at the spot on the carpet that had previously been covered by the bookcase.

"Oh, now I KNOW we need a piano," she said. "Or new carpet!"

"Next spring," I said. "I was planning on it. Now you and I and Sandy have to decide together on it."

The kitchen timer dinged and Nina pulled the casserole out of the oven, and it was dinnertime.