Chapter 7 - The Desperate Ploy
With the threat of a lien on her house and Kendra facing eviction, my family’s pride finally shattered. But instead of apologizing, they turned to a more desperate, dangerous tactic: they tried to use my ex-husband.
My ex-husband, Richard, was a man of grand promises and zero follow-through. We had divorced when Charlotte was two because he preferred the company of his poker buddies and his young assistant to the responsibilities of fatherhood. He paid a meager amount of child support, usually late, and saw Charlotte perhaps once every three months for a superficial afternoon at the zoo.
On Thursday evening, my phone rang. It was Richard.
"Mallerie," he said, his voice carrying that familiar, smooth arrogance that had once fooled me. "I’ve been hearing some pretty disturbing things from your mother and sister."
"Really, Richard?" I said, sitting on my back porch while Charlotte played with her building blocks inside. "I didn't know you kept in touch with my mother."
"She called me, Mal. She’s worried about Charlotte. She says you’ve been acting unstable, cutting off family, and that you had a massive screaming fit in front of the kids last week. She’s worried you’re having some kind of breakdown."
I let out a soft, dry laugh. "And let me guess. She suggested that maybe Charlotte would be better off spending more time with you? Or perhaps that you should seek primary custody?"
"Well, she raised some valid points," Richard said, his tone turning defensive. "If you're under a lot of stress with your work, maybe I should step in. I have a right to my daughter, Mallerie."
"You have a right to visitation, Richard, which you barely use," I said, my voice turning icy. "But let me ask you something. Did my mother mention that she called the police on Charlotte? Did she tell you that she had two armed officers interrogate our five-year-old daughter because she didn't want to share a toy with Nora?"
There was a long silence on the line. "Wait... what?"
"I have the police report, Richard," I said, my voice sharp as a razor. "I have the bodycam footage request pending. I also have the independent bank audit showing my mother embezzled $28,000 from Dad’s trust, and that she’s currently facing a federal lien on her home. She’s looking for someone to pay her bills, Richard. If you take custody of Charlotte, she expects you to move in, pay her mortgage, and support Kendra."
"She... she said she had some investments she wanted to share with me," Richard stammered, his greed suddenly warred with his laziness.
"She has no investments, Richard. She has debt. And if you attempt to file for any change in custody, my lawyer will present the police report of the incident at her house, her financial audit, and your own history of missed child support payments to the judge. You’ll end up paying double what you pay now, and you’ll have to explain to a judge why you’re associating with people who call the cops on toddlers."
"Look, Mal, I don't want any trouble," Richard said, his voice dropping into a panicked whine. "I was just checking in. Your mom made it sound like... well, never mind. I gotta go."
The line went dead.
May you like
I smiled, looking through the glass door at Charlotte. She had built a massive, crooked tower of colorful blocks, and she was currently laughing as she knocked it down with a plastic dinosaur.
She was loud. She was messy. She was alive. And she was entirely mine.
