And James watching it happen felt something he had not felt in a long time. The sensation of being part of something that was larger than himself without it costing him his sense of self. Sophia came home from her first full week of work on a Friday evening and sat down at the kitchen table and put her face in her hands for 30 seconds, not crying, just absorbing the fact that she had done it. Then she looked up and said, "I forgot how good it feels to be useful. You've been useful every day you've been here, James said.
You know what I mean? I do, he said. And I hear you. And you did it. She looked at him.
We did it. She said, "Don't do the thing where you make it only mine." He considered that fair, he said. That Friday night after Ava was in bed and Noah was down, Sophia and James sat on the back porch in the cold because Sophia said she needed air that wasn't inside a building. And James brought out two mugs of decaf and they sat in the chairs he kept out there bundled up in jackets not talking for a few minutes just listening to the neighborhood settle into nighttime.
Then Sophia said he responded. James looked over. David, through his attorney, sent an official letter to Sandra. She turned her mug in both hands. He's claiming he wants shared custody.
Sandra's response already drafted. She's pushing back hard on the tracking, on the threatening language of the first text, on the documented abandonment during the pregnancy. Sophia exhaled. Sandra says if he's smart, he'll settle for supervised visitation and stay out of our lives. If he's not smart, it gets messier before it gets cleaner.
Is he smart? James asked. He's smart enough to have kept a secret family for 2 years, she said. But that's a different kind of smart. James nodded.
Sandra's smarter than that kind. I know. He looked at her profile in the cold night air. How do you feel about it? Not the legal part.
About him wanting to be in Noah's life. Sophia was quiet for a long time. I feel two ways about it. She said finally. I feel like Noah deserves to know where he comes from.
When he's old enough to understand, he deserves the truth about who his father is and why he wasn't there. I'm not going to take that from him. She paused. But I also feel like the man who sent that text. I know you're in Charlotte.