Chapter 5
The temporary hearing took place ten days later.
Rochelle and I sat on opposite sides of the room with our lawyers. I wanted to look at her and ask why she had told Eli I was working when I was outside her house. I kept my eyes on the notes Priya had made with me.
The judge reviewed our schedule, the messages, and the dates of the missed visits. Rochelle’s lawyer said she had been responding to Eli’s anxiety about spending nights away.
I listened closely. Eli might have been anxious. I wanted to know what he had told her, and I wanted us to help him together.
Priya asked why I hadn’t been given a chance to speak with him before the visits were canceled. Rochelle’s lawyer said communication had been difficult.
That much was true.
The judge asked us each a few questions. When it was my turn, I described the first Saturday: the drive, the conversation at the door, and Eli running out with one shoe on.
“What do you want from an order today?” she asked.
“A schedule Eli can count on,” I said. “I want him to see both of us without feeling he has to choose.”
The judge made a temporary plan. Our weekend schedule remained in place. Exchanges would happen at a family center halfway between our homes, with staff to record arrival and departure. We would use one parenting app for messages about Eli. We would also arrange a counselor for him.
Rochelle stared down at the table as the judge spoke.
I felt relief, but I knew a written plan would only help if we followed it.
The first exchange was that Saturday.
I arrived early and waited outside the center. A staff member checked me in. Through the glass doors, I saw Rochelle’s car pull up. Eli climbed out with a backpack and looked around until he found me.
He ran, then stopped short at the entrance.
“Can I hug you now?” he asked.
I crouched. “Always.”
He threw his arms around me.
Rochelle came in a few steps behind him. She handed the staff member his medicine for seasonal allergies and the written directions. Her hands shook.
I wanted to say something kind. I didn’t know what she would hear from me.
“Thank you for packing his book,” I said.
“He chose it.”
Eli looked from one of us to the other. “I brought the bridge picture, too.”
“Then we’d better get building,” I told him.
In my truck, he talked the whole first hour. He told me about a science lesson, a boy who could whistle through his teeth, and a lost library book that had turned up under his bed. Then he went quiet.
“You okay?” I asked.
“What if Mom’s lonely?”
“She has people who care about her. You can call her tonight if you want.”
“Will you be lonely when I go back?”
“I’ll miss you. I’ll also be glad you get to see her.”
He pressed his forehead against the window for a moment.
“That’s confusing.”
“It can be. You’re allowed to love us both.”
At home, Maya greeted him from the kitchen. She had kept the model kit sealed, exactly where I left it.
Eli checked the box. “You really waited.”
“We made a promise,” I said.
We spread the pieces over the table. Maya painted the small road signs while Eli and I fitted the supports together. When one piece broke, Eli went pale.
“I ruined it.”
“We can glue it,” I said. “Bridges get repaired.”
Maya handed him the glue. He studied the pieces, then pressed them together carefully.
That evening, he called Rochelle from the sofa. I went into the kitchen to give him privacy. When he finished, he found me washing dishes.
“Mom asked if Maya helped with the bridge.”
“She did. Did you tell her?”
“Yes.”
“How did that feel?”
“She got quiet.”
I dried my hands. “You can tell her about your day. You don’t need to hide the people you spent it with.”
Eli nodded, but I knew a sentence from me wouldn’t make that simple.
The next morning, he woke before I did and carried the finished bridge to the living room. He placed it between two cushions and drove toy cars across it.
At Sunday’s exchange, he hugged Maya goodbye. Rochelle saw it.
Her face tightened, then she knelt and opened her arms for him. Eli went to her. I watched her hold him, and I remembered why we had once believed we could build a family together.
On the drive home, the house already felt too quiet. Maya asked if I wanted to put the bridge away.
“No,” I said. “Leave it where he can find it next time.”
Tuesday came. At our call time, Eli didn’t answer.
I waited ten minutes. Then I opened the parenting app and saw Rochelle’s message.
He says he doesn’t feel like talking.
May you like
I looked at the bridge on my coffee table.
I wanted to believe it was Eli’s choice. I also remembered his whisper at the park: Please answer Tuesday.
