Adam and Steve

By Ellen Frances Dyke

Kate is apprehensive about meeting her son Joey for the first time in thirteen yearsthe first time since she gave birth to him and relinquished custody to the father, Michael Shaw. Shes invited to Michaels home where he lives with his husband, Stuart Shaw, a restaurant manager. Kate feels a bit uncomfortable, and this turns to shock when she discovers naked pictures of Joey on Stuarts phone.

Thinking her son is in danger from a pedophile stepfather, she and her husband, Larry, sue for custody of Joey. For Stuart, the possible loss of his stepson culminates a lifetime of victimization by homophobes, whether it be his mother, classmate, employer, the average man in a bar letting loose after a hard days work, or the judge who decides his familys fate.

Michael and Stuart must discover who took the pictures in order to prove Stuart didnt do anything to endanger his stepson and to regain custody of Joey. Stuart refuses to be a victim and demands to be heard, but that could change his destiny.

A novel of legal intrigue, Adam and Steve explores the timely subjects of child custody, prejudice against homosexuality, and gay marriage laws as Michael and Stuart face a difficult struggle to maintain their family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475941364

Ellen Frances Dyke

Ellen Frances Dyke, a retired attorney, lives in Fairfax County, Virginia, with her husband James. Married just twelve years after their mixed racial marriage would become legal in Virginia, they have four children and six grandchildren.

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ADAM

AND

STEVE

Ellen Frances Dyke

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

Adam and Steve

Copyright © 2012 by Ellen Frances Dyke.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4135-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4137-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4136-4 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012913923

iUniverse rev. date: 08/25/2012

Contents

Prologue Avon, Connecticut—Sunday, May 17, 2009

Chapter One Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, March 11, 2011

Chapter Two Washington, DC—Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Chapter Three Washington, DC/Fairfax, Virginia—Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Chapter Four Great Falls, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Chapter Five Somewhere Between Short Pump, Henrico County, and Alexandria, Virginia Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Chapter Six City of Fairfax, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Chapter Seven City of Fairfax, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Chapter Eight City of Fairfax, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Chapter Nine City of Fairfax, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Chapter Ten Alexandria, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Chapter Eleven St. John, the United States Virgin Islands—Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Chapter Twelve Alexandria, Virginia—Thursday, March 31, 2011

Chapter Thirteen Great Falls, Virginia—Thursday, March 31, 2011

Chapter Fourteen Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Fifteen Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Sixteen Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Seventeen Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, VirginiaFriday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Eighteen Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Nineteen Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-One Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Two Alexandria, Virginia—Saturday, March 5, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Three Alexandria Elementary School Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, December 12, 2008

Chapter Twenty-Four Rita Dove Middle School, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Five Rita Dove Middle School, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Six Rita Dove Middle School, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Seven Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Eight Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Nine Rita Dove Middle School, Alexandria, Virginia Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Thirty Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Thirty-One Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, April 1, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Two Alexandria, Virginia—Saturday, April 2, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Three Falls Church, Virginia—Monday, April 4, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Four Washington, DC—Monday, April 4, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Five Washington, DC—Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Six Washington, DC—Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Seven Great Falls, Virginia—Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Eight Short Pump, Virginia—Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Chapter Thirty-Nine City of Fairfax, Virginia—Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Chapter Forty City of Fairfax, Virginia—Friday, April 8, 2011

Chapter Forty-One City of Fairfax, Virginia—Friday, April 8, 2011

Chapter Forty-Two Arlington, Virginia—Monday, April 11, 2011

Chapter Forty-Three Alexandria, Virginia—Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Chapter Forty-Four Falls Church, Virginia—Thursday, April 14, 2011

Chapter Forty-Five Washington, DC—Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Chapter Forty-Six Henrico Middle School, Short Pump, Virginia Thursday, April 21, 2011

Chapter Forty-Seven Short Pump, Virginia—Friday, April 22, 2011

Chapter Forty-Eight Somewhere Between Washington, DC, and Avon, Connecticut Monday, April 25, 2011

Chapter Forty-Nine Avon, Connecticut—Monday, April 25, 2011

Chapter Fifty Jersey City, New Jersey—Saturday, May 4, 1991

Chapter Fifty-One Avon, Connecticut—Monday, April 25, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Two Alexandria, Virginia—Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Three Short Pump, Virginia—Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Four Short Pump, Virginia—Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Five Alexandria, Virginia—Thursday, April 28, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Six Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Monday, May 2, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Seven Fairfax Hospital Center, Falls Church, Virginia Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Eight City of Fairfax, Virginia—Thursday, May 5, 2011

Chapter Fifty-Nine City of Fairfax, Virginia—Thursday, May 5, 2011

Chapter Sixty Somewhere between the City of Fairfax and Short Pump, Virginia Thursday, May 5, 2011

Chapter Sixty-One Somewhere Between the City of Fairfax and Herndon, Virginia Friday, May 6, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Two Alexandria, Virginia—Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Three Alexandria, Virginia—Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Four Alexandria, Virginia—Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Five City of Fairfax, Virginia—Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Six Avon, Connecticut—Friday, May 13, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Seven Alexandria/City of Fairfax, Virginia—Friday, May 13, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Eight Alexandria, Virginia—Friday, May 13, 2011

Chapter Sixty-Nine City of Fairfax, Virginia—Friday, May 13, 2011

Chapter Seventy Bethesda, Maryland—Saturday, May 14, 2011

Chapter Seventy-One Great Falls, Virginia—Sunday, May 15, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Two Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Three Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Four Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Five Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Six Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Seven Alexandria, Virginia—Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Eight Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Seventy-Nine Great Falls, Virginia—Monday, May 16, 2011

Chapter Eighty Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court, Alexandria, Virginia Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Chapter Eighty-One Fairfax Hospital Center, Falls Church, Virginia Friday, May 20, 2011

Chapter Eighty-Two Alexandria, Virginia—Sunday, June 19, 2011

Epilogue St. John, the United States Virgin Islands—Thursday, May 17, 2012

Author’s Notes and Acknowledgments

To the love of my life—you know who you are—

and to our amazing and wondrous family.

And to the memory of James and Mattie Dyke.

It is natural to develop prejudices. It is

noble to rise above them.

—Author unknown

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have

chosen the side of the oppressor.

—Archbishop Desmond Tutu

Prologue

Avon, Connecticut—Sunday,

May 17, 2009

Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve; Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve reverberated through the glorious spring afternoon. Eleven demonstrators walked a twenty-five-foot oval, careful to remain on the public space in front of a sprawling native-stone estate nestled in the Connecticut countryside. They left their prescribed route only to hoist their signs into the faces of the guests arriving for the wedding, which was to begin within the next half hour in the backyard of the estate.

Their signs reading Gay Marriage is against God’s will, Return to God, and One man + One woman = God’s will conveyed their up-close and personal relationship with the Almighty. For who else would deign to know the intricacies of God’s will and have no reluctance to impose that knowledge on others?

With God squarely on the demonstrators’ shoulders, a sense of smug entitlement permeated the rowdy event, allowing the demonstrators without remorse to intimidate the arriving guests. If all went as planned, they would cause enough of a ruckus that at least they would watch themselves on the evening news—and at most they would disrupt the wedding.

Get out of my face, snarled Harper Sinclair as she tried without success to circumvent the demonstration. At over 5’10" in heels, Harper was still no match for the shorter demonstrator. Using his placard sporting blood red letters, he moved to the left, then to the right, and back to the left so as to block each of Harper’s attempts to enter the gate leading to the site of the wedding. The sign seemed to have a life of its own as it bobbed in front of her nose.

Fag lover was the best the demonstrator could hurl at Harper before other arriving guests diverted his attention. Harper was free but unnerved. She stumbled slightly as she walked through the gate and entered wedding heaven. She stood in awe. Although Harper had attended quite a few weddings in her forty-five years, the site of this wedding high atop a hill could have come straight from the pages of Brides and Bloom, a magazine Harper read religiously and one of her guilty pleasures. Keeping her emotions in check would require a Herculean effort.

Walking to the edge of the lawn, Harper bore witness to nature’s glorious beauty—the acres of deciduous woodlands, the stream snaking through the ground cover below, and the distant horizon where earth formed sky. She was struck by the obvious. Nature was a continuum of disparate and similar features. Taken together, they created a stunning world of immense promise, much like the potential of the marriage that would take place shortly.

She turned from the overlook and surveyed the activity on the lawn. The guests, in their wedding finery, made small talk. The waitstaff, in full formal wear, carried large, circular silver trays heaped with shrimp wrapped in prosciutto, miniature crab cakes, baby lamb chops with mint sauce, and flutes filled with bubbling champagne. As Harper walked among the guests, a waiter with straight black hair slicked back from his high forehead and prominent brow offered her a flute from the many he was carrying. Because she feared the champagne would unleash the waterfall starting to build behind Harper’s glistening emerald-green eyes, her first inclination was to decline. Letting that fleeting moment pass, she thanked the server, took the crystal flute, and continued to wander aimlessly by and around the other guests, who were all unknown to her.

Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve floated on a breeze, jarring the solemn pre-ceremony socializing. Harper had a need to tell someone—anyone—of her aversion to the demonstration, but it was an aversion only to the demonstrators’ methods, not the substance of their protest. Harper had her doubts about same-sex marriage. She had only voiced those doubts once. That was a fiasco. She had seriously disappointed—or more truthfully, she had failed miserably. From then on, Harper had guarded her feelings about marriage equality, and why not? Her feelings didn’t matter. This marriage and others just like it were going to happen anyway.

Harper wondered if she was the only one with doubts. There had to be others. Nonetheless, she felt isolated. She sat upon a white-ribboned chair, one of the many chairs placed shoulder to shoulder on the side of the white petal-strewn aisle where only one other guest was seated. Although many guests were still milling about, Harper knew instinctively that a groom’s family was missing.

It wasn’t until the footsteps were immediately next to her that she realized the best man had materialized. He looked unpremeditatedly handsome, as only an eleven-year-old could look in his first tuxedo. He was the picture of the man he would become and a younger image of his father, whose wedding day this was. Like Michael, Joey, at first glance, seemed cool and calm. But the small droplets of perspiration streaking across his turned-up nose belied his excitement.

You look beautiful, Ms. Sinclair, Joey said. Harper instinctively dropped her eyes and reddened less at the compliment itself than at the thought of her actual beauty. Harper paid little attention to her looks, keeping her blonde hair close cropped for ease of handling.

Isn’t this a great day? Dad’s been praying for this day for years, but I wish the demonstrators would go away. They’ll ruin his wedding day.

I bet your dad hasn’t even noticed. Nothing could ruin this day, certainly not a hateful demonstration. Harper had finally told someone. Did the telling absolve her? Harper wondered.

Before Joey could respond, the minister, dressed in his midnight-blue business suit and looking less impressive than most of the other men present, caught Joey’s eye and signaled for him to approach.

Leaving to help the minister, Joey called back to Harper, See you later, Ms. Sinclair. The minister whispered something to Joey, who recklessly ran onto the stone patio and, with one continuous motion, into the open French doors of the lavish home of Pamela Michaels, his aunt-to-be.

Harper wondered if Joey, like her Becca, faced challenges having just one parent. After today, Joey would have a second parent committed to loving and protecting him. Why hadn’t she sooner understood the promise of stability this marriage would bring to Joey’s life? Michael had known. He told her that finding the love of his life was like finding the last missing piece to an intricate jigsaw puzzle left undone for many years.

There would be those who would never understand. They would be downright hostile. In fact, after this much-awaited ceremony, Joey would find himself in the center of a storm that would pull two families apart, cause some to question their steadfast beliefs, and result in a deadly plunge. But today was reserved for the expression of love and commitment. Tomorrow, as always, was unknown.

Maintaining her gaze at the French doors, Harper expected Joey to exit the house at any moment. She was not disappointed. He bolted from the door. If Joey didn’t slow down, he would likely run headlong into an elderly gentleman holding a food-filled plate. Almost certainly, the gentleman’s food would fly across the patio, followed closely by the yellow file Joey held.

Preventing the impending accident, Stuart, a man who gave meaning to the phrase tall, dark, and handsome, intercepted the boy. He enfolded Joey in his arms as if trying to become one with the boy. Stuart’s deep black eyes radiated only love for Joey. He tousled his sandy-blond hair and whispered to the boy. Joey gave Stuart the yellow file and scooted away. Stuart entered the house.

Within a moment or two, a string quartet started to play Come What May from Moulin Rouge, signaling the beginning of the wedding procession. The minister stood in front of a natural altar created from two giant elms interwoven with yards of white ribbon and tulle and adorned with dozens of white roses.

The minister had panic in his eyes while the few standing guests hurriedly took their seats. This wedding was about to begin, and the minister was clearly unprepared. Stuart saved the day when he handed a manila folder to the minister, who sighed in relief and then smiled broadly and thanked Stuart profusely.

Harper closed her eyes and was transported to a similar day fifteen years ago. She saw herself on her wedding day in her white lace over peau de soie, fitted wedding dress, flaring as it reached the floor with a draping chapel train. Her reverie was interrupted by the minister’s words.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . .

Self-absorbed, Harper hadn’t noticed that the wedding processional had concluded, and the wedding party had taken their places. The minister continued the familiar ceremony. When the string quartet started to play I’ll Stand by You, the minister announced that Michael would sing to his betrothed. Taking hold of Stuart’s hands, Michael began an unusual song for a wedding. His hauntingly magnificent baritone mesmerized Harper.

Michael’s beautiful voice and strangely apropos melody carried her once again to her own wedding. Realizing that thoughts of Philip were creating a pervasive sadness, Harper willed away the reminiscent journey, freeing her to enjoy once again Michael’s touching song.

"Nothing you confess

Could make me love you less . . ."

Is there really a love so strong that it can withstand any truth? Harper thought. Her tears streamed down, lining her face with mascara. She tried to hide her emotion, but rather than masking her distress, it only served to make that distress more obvious by causing her to gulp air and make hiccupping noises. Harper furtively surveyed the guests to determine if anyone noticed. Seeing no one looking her way, she calmly returned her attention to Michael.

What’s the story behind that song? Harper thought.

And then, before she knew it, the minister was saying, By the power vested in me by the State of Connecticut, I now pronounce you husband and husband.

Chapter One

Alexandria, Virginia—Friday,

March 11, 2011

Stuart had planned this Friday evening with great care. He’d spent hours straightening and cleaning, and now their two-bedroom, two-story, red brick townhome was spotless. Everything was in its place, and a fresh flower arrangement presided over the center of the dining room table. The preparations were complete. All that was missing was Kate Dempsey, and she would arrive shortly.

Bear, how’s dinner coming? Do you need some help? Stuart asked.

"I’m doing fine. Dinner’s just about ready. Do you need some help?"

Everything’s under control. I hope. The house is finally ready, and Joey’s upstairs changing. What smells so great?

It’s a crown roast of lamb.

I can’t wait to taste it. Does Emeril know he’s got some serious competition? Stuart asked.

Funny you should mention Emeril. I’m actually using his recipe, including his not-so-secret ingredient, Creole mustard, as part of the glaze, Michael said.

Isn’t there anything I can do? I’m going crazy.

Putting his hand on Stuart’s shoulder, Michael, with a light tug, pulled Stuart into his space. Babe, don’t you know that because your love for Joey is so enormous, he’s never lacked for a mother’s love.

If a boy is lucky enough to have a mother, then she should be part of his life, Stuart said. From what you’ve told me about Kate, she can only add to Joey’s life.

Remember, this wasn’t what Kate wanted. She has her own family. Don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t go as you envision.

No sooner were the words out of Michael’s mouth than the doorbell chimed. I’ll take the canapés to the living room and answer the door, Stuart said. Stuart entered the living room, placed the canapés on the coffee table, fluffed the two beige and brown throw pillows perched in the corners of the mahogany leather couch, and opened the door.

Standing before him was a slip of a woman. She looked like a teenager, but given Joey’s thirteen years, she had to be about thirty. Of course, she was not much younger than Michael. She was fair and beautiful with a vulnerable expression. She wore jeans and a simple T-shirt. Until this moment, Stuart had thought Joey was all Michael. He now saw Joey’s wide-set, striking eyes reflected in the woman standing before him. Immediately, Stuart understood Michael’s attraction to her.

There was no hiding Kate’s nervousness. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Welcome to our home, Stuart said. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. Please, come in.

You must be Stuart, Kate said, extending her hand. I’m . . . not sure this is a good idea.

This is a great idea. You’ll see, Stuart said. He took Kate’s offered hand in both of his and invited her into their home.

Kate’s here, Stuart called to Joey. Then to Kate, he said, Come sit on the couch and have some canapés while I go upstairs and see what’s keeping Joey. Stuart, taking the stairs two at a time, knocked on the bathroom door at the top of the stairs and then disappeared behind it.

*     *     *

Kate took deep breaths to control her racing heart. When her emotions were fairly under control, she evaluated her all-male surroundings. She wasn’t surprised. The Michael she had known a lifetime ago would have had this comfortable home.

Michael entered the room little changed from the bruiser of a man she once knew. He had the same burly physique; sandy, bristled hair; and handsome face. Michael was the first to speak, and when he did, he spoke the same words she was thinking. You haven’t changed. You look exactly as you did years ago.

The two stared at each other. The pervasive quiet was interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. Stuart and Joey gripped each other in a bear of a hug and then proceeded down the stairs.

Kate’s eyes turned toward Joey. Too self-absorbed since Stuart had contacted her some months ago, she had not, till this moment, given any thought to the appropriate words for this momentous occasion in her son’s life. Michael filled the void by making a simple introduction. Joey, this is your mother. Kate this is Joey. It’s about time you met. Not knowing what was appropriate to do and not really knowing what she wanted to do, Kate stepped toward Joey. Immediately upon glimpsing the growing panic in Joey’s eyes, she stepped back. It was a short, strange dance that took only a moment, but the silence surrounding the two-step seemed to last for eons. The awkwardness was palpable.

Stuart finally spoke. Why don’t we sit and catch up.

Relieved that somebody had provided direction, Kate sat on the couch. Michael sat next to her, and Stuart and Joey took the armchairs across from them.

Let me say again, welcome to our home. We’re thrilled you decided to come to dinner tonight. Stuart’s words had the therapeutic effect of relaxing Kate. She sat back in the plush cushions of the couch and listened to Stuart’s stream of chatter clearly aimed at putting her at ease. He monopolized the conversation, keeping her nervousness at bay. He invited Kate into the nooks of their lives. He told her about their wedding and about Michael’s job as a paralegal and his as the day manager of a restaurant. He told her about their dreams, and in almost poetic terms, he told her about his love for Joey. Because of Stuart’s intimate monologue, Kate sensed that Joey had become increasingly uneasy. She, however, had become increasingly open and eager to share her story. And she did.

With the conversation at full tilt, Michael excused himself to tend to dinner. Joey, following his Dad’s lead, also stood. Stuart said, Joey, don’t leave. I want to take some pictures of you and Kate.

Please, Pops, not now. I have some homework to do before dinner.

I thought you finished your homework this afternoon. Besides, you’ll have all weekend to do it, Stuart said. Caught in his little untruth, Joey reluctantly joined Kate at the couch. Stuart took his cell phone from the coffee table and snapped three pictures.

I hate using this outdated phone, but I’m sure you would’ve bolted before I found the Nikon. I’m sorry if I take too many pictures of you.

No, that’s not it, Joey said.

Well maybe I do. But you have to admit this is one of those moments in your life that shouldn’t go uncaptured. Now you’re free until dinner is served, Stuart said. Having finally received permission to leave, Joey darted from the room.

Please excuse me. I’m going to see if Michael needs help in the kitchen, Stuart said.

Alone in the living room, Kate was surprised at how comfortable she felt. Stuart had gone to great lengths not only to put her at ease, but also to make her feel like an integral part of this family. Because of his obvious concern for her feelings, his unfiltered manner of communicating, and, most of all, his charm, Kate liked this man who was Pops to her son. She smiled. It was the outward appearance of an inner contentment.

Instinctively, she picked up the cell phone to view the pictures Stuart had taken. Each time she pressed the back button, Kate delighted in a new photo, even though Joey’s expression made him look as if his pants were a few sizes too small. She again pushed the back button, but this time it was not a picture of her and Joey that she saw. Oh my God! She turned ashen and started to shake. Her breathing became shallow as she furtively confirmed her solitude. Knowing she was alone, she again eyed the phone. The picture of a naked Joey was still there. She continued to push the back button. Kate saw two more pictures of Joey naked. More quickly than she thought possible, she mailed the pictures to her phone, closed the picture gallery, dropped the phone on the coffee table, and, not knowing what else to do, ran from the house.

Chapter Two

Washington, DC—Tuesday,

March 29, 2011

Harper, thank God you’re here, Michael said as he rushed into Harper’s office with papers in hand. I need your help—big time. I don’t know what to do or where to turn. Kate wants Joey.

You mean Joey’s mother? Harper said, raising her eyes to look squarely at Michael.

Yeah, Joey’s mother, and she wants to take him from us. It’s all here in her filing. She wants custody after all these years of . . . nothing. What do we do? Realizing that he was hyperventilating, Michael stopped to catch his breath. He tried to bring his heart rate back to normal by placing his hands on his knees and hanging his head.

Michael had caught Harper with a breakfast burrito halfway to her mouth. She sat behind her firm-issued, partner-sized desk with neatly stacked papers along its front perimeter. Each pile represented an ongoing criminal litigation matter in which Harper was the lead chair and for which he helped her prepare. For the moment, she just stared at him. Lowing her burrito, she said, Sit down and slow down. I thought you had no communication with Kate since Joey was born. What’s going on?

Now more in control, Michael took one of the client chairs in front of Harper’s desk and collected his thoughts. His eyes strayed toward the plaques hanging on the wall behind Harper. They were a testament to her success. She was a first-rate attorney whose criminal litigation practice was a match for the best.

We were teenagers in Short Pump—that’s a town near Richmond—when we got pregnant with Joey. I really thought Kate would marry me. Instead, she went along with her parents’ wishes. She refused an abortion and decided to give Joey up for adoption. I pleaded with her to let me keep Joey. She relented on the condition that I leave Short Pump and allow her to go on with her life without me or the baby.

Now she’s back in your life? Harper asked.

Contrary to my agreement with Kate, Stuart just couldn’t leave it alone. Stuart’s mantra was that every child needs a mother, Joey had a mother, and, therefore, Joey needed Kate. Stuart finally persuaded Kate to come to dinner three Fridays ago.

I guess she came, Harper said.

Yeah, and everything seemed okay, but it was clearly a little more than a strange encounter. For the longest time, virtually no one other than Stuart spoke. I left for the kitchen to finish preparing dinner, and Joey left he says because he felt strange around Kate. I really failed Joey that night. I hadn’t prepared him adequately for meeting his mother.

Under the circumstances, I’m unsure if any child could be adequately prepared, Harper said.

Maybe you’re right. Anyway, Stuart left Kate alone in the living room for no more than five minutes to help me in the kitchen. When Stuart and I started to serve dinner, Kate was gone.

She up and left without saying good-bye? Harper asked.

Clearly befuddled, Michael merely nodded and handed Harper the court papers. Then this appeared. She wants to take Joey from us.

Harper scanned the official document. Kate’s asked for an emergency hearing on Friday to get custody of Joey, because she believes that Joey’s been abused and is in danger of further abuse. Harper shuffled through the papers. She believes that the abuse stems from ‘inappropriate behavior’ in your home. Kate asserts that it’s in Joey’s ‘best interest’ to be taken from you and placed in a ‘safe environment’ with her and her family. From these papers, I haven’t the foggiest clue what the term ‘inappropriate behavior’ means, Harper said.

I have no idea either, and I was with her that evening, Michael said.

Before Kate came to your door, did she know you’re gay?

Stuart sure told her when he was pleading with her to meet Joey. I suppose the reality could have set in only after she saw us all living together.

What were Stuart and Kate talking about immediately before she left? Harper asked.

Michael ran his hands through his hair. She was alone in the living room. No one knows what caused her to bolt.

Did Stuart say anything that could be construed as inappropriate?

Of course he didn’t. Hell, I don’t know. Stuart desperately wanted Joey to have a mother in his life. I guess he could’ve said anything if he thought it would make that happen. But ‘inappropriate,’ that’s not Stuart.

No, it’s not, Harper said.

I’ve been such an idiot. When these papers arrived, I saw our life together breaking apart. I struck out at Stuart, blaming him for bringing Kate into our lives. I just don’t know what to do. Please help.

I know nothing about family law, Harper said. But I’ll call Bob Hughes in our Fairfax office. He has a Virginia family law practice.

As they waited for the call to go through, Harper leveled her piercing green eyes in Michael’s direction. The first thing you can do is apologize to Stuart, she said.

Hi, this is Harper Sinclair in DC. Is Bob in for a consult?

Chapter Three

Washington, DC/Fairfax, Virginia—Tuesday, March 29, 2011

What do you mean you can’t help? Michael is a valued employee of this firm. He’s my assistant and my friend. The emergency hearing to take his child is in three days. Please, you’ve got to help . . . Don’t tell me not to get hysterical, Harper said. Though, with each word, Harper sensed she was sounding more and more hysterical. She tried to gain control of her voice and emotions while she listened to her partner’s excuses.

We don’t have time to go to the Management Committee, a calmer Harper continued. I wish we did. Harper took the firm’s handbook from her lower left-hand desk drawer and quickly thumbed through it. She found the paragraph that provided guidance in these circumstances. The firm’s handbook says that I only need the managing partner’s okay in the event of an emergency. I promise I’ll speak to Sully today if that’s what you need to take Michael’s case.

Harper hung her head in disbelief as the truth became apparent. Firm procedure was just an excuse. Bob wasn’t going to help. What happened next looked like a choreographed dance. As Harper’s disbelief became evident in the downward movement of her head, Michael rose and started pacing. The chair could not contain his growing anxiety.

I see. It’s not because of procedural reasons that you’re turning us down, Harper said. Then let’s speak about the substance. I thought Michael’s case would at least pique your interest. Since nothing out of the ordinary happened the evening Kate visited their home, we can only assume—and I understand the danger in making assumptions—that Kate’s concern related to Michael’s same-sex marriage. Deciding that a little shameless play to Bob’s ego might make him relent, Harper continued, For a cutting-edge family law attorney like yourself, I would think you’d relish a custody battle concerning marriage equality and the appropriateness of a gay married couple raising a child.

As Harper listened, she became painfully aware of the uphill battle Michael faced, beginning with the prejudice of one of her own partners. You don’t know whether it’s appropriate, Harper quietly repeated Bob’s words. She was confused and exasperated. What the hell does that have to do with anything? You’re a lawyer for God’s sake. If one of her partners, an educated and moderately gifted attorney, would forego a case with groundbreaking issues and openly express bigotry with a sense of entitlement, then what kind of treatment could Michael expect from the rest of the legal system? Harper wondered.

What exactly do you mean ‘it’s not the battle you’d want to fight in Virginia’? Harper asked.

Outrage was fast becoming rage as she continued to listen to Bob. Let me get this straight. Virginia amended its Bill of Rights to prohibit same-sex marriage and to deny all the benefits of marriage to same-sex couples. So . . . what exactly is the reason you don’t want to take this case?

Harper was fast losing patience. At least recommend a Virginia family law attorney who might be willing to help, she said as she picked up her fountain pen, the pen given to her by her adoptive mother almost twenty-three years ago when Harper graduated from law school. Did you say ‘Lena Howard’? And exactly what did you mean when you said ‘she’s a New York lawyer that would be ecstatic to take this case’?

Harper was still somewhat naïve about her own prejudices and about the prejudices of those around her. Bigotry, stereotyping, and unfair generalizations either passed without recognition, or if recognized, they stunned her. She would search for the perfect comeback, the retort that would make the bigot immediately understand the wrong being committed. But the words rarely came. Hopefully, Lena Howard would take Michael’s case. Hopefully, Ms. Howard would have the words.

Chapter Four

Great Falls, Virginia—Wednesday, March 30, 2011

As the water sluiced down Lena’s body, she took the opportunity to relax and let the warmth of the shower rejuvenate her while drenching her shoulder-length brunette hair with that shock of white at her forehead. Her signature white swathe was a bit incongruous when she was younger. Now, at sixty, she was in sync with the white, although there was little else to