Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Wait, you mean you’re getting all of these clothes? I thought we only needed one decent outfit for the meeting.”
“There are going to be lots of meetings, and you don’t want to wear the same thing over and over. We’re going to get you some suits too, but that’s a job for my tailor. And remember, these clothes will have a life beyond the custody hearing, so think of them as an investment.” I started to look at the price tag hanging from my cuff, but he quickly plucked it off and said, “You don’t want to know. You’ll just say I’m spending too much.”
“And are you spending too much?”
“No. I’m spending exactly the right amount.”
One of the sales associates helped me remove all the tags from that outfit so I could wear it out of the store, and another rang up our purchases while the last two neatly packed everything into shopping bags. I’d ended up with six new shirts and pants, a sport coat, three neckties, two pairs of dress shoes, some socks, and two new belts. Lucky had even thought to include some new briefs, not that they had anything to do with looking good for my appointments.
He must have spoken to her ahead of time, because the woman working the register never told us the total. Instead, Lucky just handed over a credit card, and it was all handled discreetly. I was sure that was for my benefit. I’d glimpsed a price tag here and there, so I knew this must have added up to a couple of thousand dollars. In other words, he’d just spent more on my clothes in an hour than I had over the entire course of my adult life.
When I told him that, he said, “That can’t be true.”
“Spoken like someone who’s never spent time in thrift shops,” I said, as we loaded the shopping bags into the trunk of the town car. “You’re really missing out too, because let me tell you—finding a pair of nice jeans for a buck is a rush.”
“I can imagine.”
After he slammed the trunk, I gave him a hug and said, “Thank you. I feel good in this outfit.” I also felt guilty for letting him spend so much on me, especially on the heels of the fortune he’d spent to hire the lawyers. But instead of casting a shadow on his kindness and generosity, I went with gratitude.
We drove straight to our meeting after the department store. It was weird to actually go inside one of the tallest buildings in downtown San Francisco, and weirder still to look out over the city from the fortieth floor. I barely recognized it from up here.
Walt met us in the lobby and took us back to a spacious conference room, where we were introduced to Padma Singh and Charles Spiegel, the senior partners Lucky had hired. Since they were working through lunch, someone had ordered fancy boxed lunches for all of us, but I was too nervous to eat.
Instead, I answered the lawyers’ questions while they jotted down some notes. They wanted to know about Kathy, our relationship, how and when Owen had come into my care, and so on. They also told me about the process and what to expect, both over the next few weeks and once the custody hearing began.
Then, toward the end of the meeting, Charles said, “I assume you did a paternity test when your son was first put into your care, but don’t be surprised if the Wilsons’ lawyer requests another one. They probably won’t take your word for it that you’re the baby’s father.”
“I, um, I actually never took a test,” I admitted. “I thought about it when I first found out about Owen, but then I guess it didn’t really matter. I knew I was going to take care of him no matter what, because he needed me.”
A look of concern crossed Padma’s elegant features, and she exchanged a quick glance with her colleague as she tucked her salt-and-pepper bob behind her ear. But then she quickly schooled her expression and turned to Walt. “Please schedule an appointment with Doctor Gunderson. Ask him to fit Mr. Genardi in as soon as possible.” Walt told her he was on it and stepped out of the room, and then Padma turned to me and said, “Just so we know up front if there might be a potential issue, I’d like you to take your son and get a paternity test right away. It’s important.”
A sick feeling settled in my gut, and I asked, “What if it comes back saying I’m not his father? I want to believe Kathy was monogamous when we were together, but I just don’t know for sure.”
Padma pulled up a smile that felt rehearsed. “Let’s not worry ourselves with what-ifs at this point. Just get the test done, and we’ll go from there.”