Free Twilight Child by Warren Adler Page B

Tray and Peter, and Peter wanted to start fresh. No ties to the past.”
Molly swallowed and cleared her throat. “She said she hadn’t been too happy
with our Chuck.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment, moistened, then cleared
after a deep breath. “She also said that she knew we were being hurt, but that
we had to bear that for Tray’s sake. She just wanted to start all over, and we
were part of the past.”
    Â â€œJust being
damned selfish,” Charlie muttered, feeling the inevitable tightening in his
gut. “Maybe she’s afraid she’s gonna blow this new marriage like she blew the
one with Chuck. If she had been a good wife, maybe he wouldn’t have gone away.”
His remarks, he knew, qualified as an outburst, and he shot Molly a sheepish
grin, embellished with a shrug.
    Â â€œGone away?”
    Â â€œHe worked on
oil rigs in the North Sea and the Persian Gulf. Good money, but dangerous.”
    Â â€œAnd he died
when?”
    Â â€œLess than
two and a half years ago,” Charlie croaked hoarsely, trying to hide the old
ache. “Fell off a rig in a storm. Probably took some damn fool chances—just
like him. Anyway, she was in the sack with Peter in no more than ninety days;
married less than six months after the funeral—couldn’t stand to wait a proper
time, insulted his memory, his honor—which gives you some idea of the kind of
woman she is.”
    Â â€œYou haven’t
tried to see the child?” Forte studied both their faces, deliberately skirting
a response. Charlie cast a frightened look at Molly. As always, he thought, he
had probably gone too far.
    Â â€œDid you or
didn’t you?” Forte asked firmly.
    Â â€œI did,”
Charlie said.
    Â â€œDid what?”
    Â â€œTried to see
him.” Charlie shook his head. “I did see him. It turned out badly. She accused
me of harassment and threatened to call the cops.”
    Â â€œI’m sorry,”
Forte said, but he didn’t press for any further explanation.
    Â â€œCan she do
that?” Charlie asked, unable to hide his bitterness.
    Â Forte sat
back in his chair and made a cathedral with his fingers.
    Â â€œDid the new
husband adopt the child?” Both the question and the pose seemed ominous.
Charlie looked at Molly, puzzled.
    Â â€œYes,” he
answered hesitantly.
    Â â€œI was afraid
of that.”
    Â â€œWhat
difference does that make?”
    Â Forte
shrugged.
    Â â€œThe law. I
could read it to you. In a terminated marriage the grandparents have rights.
But in the case of adoption and remarriage”—he waved his graceful fingers as if
he were blowing away the words—“the new father and his parents have all
paternal rights. In other words, in the eyes of the law, you no longer exist as
grandparents.”
    Â Charlie felt
as if he had been kicked in the midsection. He could see his own condition mirrored
in Molly’s face, which had gone white.
    Â â€œYou could
have contested the adoption,” Forte said gently.
    Â â€œThat”—Charlie
cleared his throat—“didn’t seem our business. How are we supposed to know about
the law?” Frances had told Molly about the adoption, but how could they know
that it would forfeit their rights? Who was there to tell them about such
things? No, they hadn’t liked the idea, but what could they have done about it?
    Â â€œBut we are
in fact his grandparents,” Molly said emphatically. “Law or no law. That’s the
truth. That child is our blood.”
    Â Charlie
nodded vigorously.
    Â â€œThe law is
the law,” Forte said. “And there has never been a Maryland case on that point.”
    Â â€œSo she can
do it?” Charlie asked.
    Â â€œI’m afraid
so. Legally, that is. She can always claim it is in the best interests of the
child. That’s the ball game.”
    Â â€œWhich