A Moment of Weakness (29 page)

She closed her eyes and willed the entire scene to disappear.
Why, Lord? Why are you letting this happen?

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding
.

The Scripture flooded her with enough strength to open her eyes, to let her precious son go. She glanced at the officer. “He’s coming.”

She rested her hands on Ty’s shoulders and smiled through her tears. “You gotta go, Ty. I love you.”

“I love you, Mom.” Ty hung his head and pulled away. The separation was as painful as if someone had sliced her arms off. She stayed stooped down, sobbing quietly, watching as Ty walked four steps and then five. Then as one of the officers held out his hand, her son stopped and spun around.

“No!
I won’t go!” He raced back to her and flung his arms around her neck. Jade clutched him and covered the back of his head with her open hand, stroking his hair, holding him close as he sobbed out loud. Ty had never cried like this before, and for a moment, Jade wished she had acted on her earlier impulse to run away with him. She should have taken him to Canada or Mexico. Some place where she could love the Lord and not lose her son because of it. At least then she could have spared him this pain. Spared them both.

At least until they were caught. And then she’d never have seen him again.

She sighed. No, this was the only option. She would work with Tanner and his law firm, and they would win Ty back. It had to happen. She held her son and let him cry until he had calmed down. “Honey, you have to go. I’m sorry, baby.”

Ty nodded. “I’ll be back, right? Soon?” His eyes were filled
with uncertainty, his face red and puffy, streaked from so many tears.

“Soon. I promise.”

Ty swallowed hard, kissed her on the cheek once more, and then turned and walked to the waiting officer. He kept his gaze downward as the officers handed him over to Jim. He would go, but not gently, not willingly. Jade wondered if the officers could see how ludicrous the situation was.

Ty climbed into Jim’s backseat and turned to face her. She kept her eyes locked on his and saw that he was crying hard again. Sobbing. Probably out loud.
Why, God? What good can come from this?
The last thing she saw before Jim and his attorney drove out of sight was the tormented face of her only son, his hand up against the glass of the rear window, and the single word he repeated over and over again: “Mom!”

With visions of him threatening to suffocate her, Jade limped inside, grabbed a jacket Ty had forgotten, and collapsed on the tiled floor. She lay there, sobbing and clutching the jacket, savoring the smell of her little boy until she had no more tears left to cry. Finally, when she could find the strength, she pulled herself up and forced herself toward the bedroom.

With Ty gone she was empty, dead inside. Everything hurt and nothing mattered. That night as she tossed on her bed, God made one thing painfully clear:

Whatever it might cost her personally, she was ready to face Tanner.

T
ANNER ARRANGED FOR THE MEETING TO TAKE PLACE IN AN
empty classroom at a large church in downtown Portland. According to Matt, the woman hadn’t wanted to meet at her house, and certainly a diner would be too distracting. The classroom would be quiet and neutral, and hopefully set the woman at ease so they could get to know her and the story behind her loss of custody. He and Matt arrived at nine-thirty, half an hour early. They spread an assortment of briefs over the table and studied them one last time.

Over the past week they had requested the help of nearly everyone in the office, making certain every case regarding parental custody and issues of faith was researched and summarized. The summaries were contained in the briefs that now filled the table.

“There’s enough precedence here to win an appeal without even making an appearance.” Matt tossed the last of the cases on the table, folded his arms, and stared at Tanner. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Believe it.”

“I mean, who’d have thought it?”

Tanner remembered Peter and the people of Hungary. “I have a feeling it’ll get worse before it gets better.” He ran his fingers over the assorted documents, recalling the highlights of each case. “Bottom line is Jade Rudolph. What kind of mother is she?”

Matt shrugged. “Hard to tell from our conversations.”

“But she’s not a cult member draped in white linen refusing her son medical treatment and encouraging him to drink cyanide Kool-Aid. We know that much.”

“She’s definitely not that.”

Tanner straightened the documents and pulled out a single sheet, a retainer that the woman needed to sign if she wanted the CPRR to represent her appeal. “The only problem here is the local judges.”

“A bit liberal?” A grin spread across Matt’s face.

“They define the word.”

“Still, it’s crazy. We’ll win the appeal hands down.”

“I’m worried about it.”

“Why?”

“Because these days certain judges enjoy going against precedence. Charting their own course in history.”

Matt grew pensive. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Before too long, everyone in America will know about this case. Last week it was played on wire stories across the country. Soon the talking heads will get hold of it, and long before the appeal, public opinion will be set—or at least the media’s view of public opinion. Jade Rudolph will be dragged through the gutter before this is said and done. She’ll be accused of being intolerant, hateful, extreme.…”

“Taking Jade Rudolph’s son from her is hardly a way of eliminating hate.”

Tanner nodded slowly. “You and I know that. But the media wields a fickle finger at times. When I first took on religious freedom cases, they applauded me as a hero, a voice where once there had only been silence. My practice exploded overnight because of the media’s positive attention.… But Jade’s story is something else entirely.”

“The Channel One thing?”

“The media has long supported Channel One as an educational tool. By taking a stand against it, Jade’s put herself in a tough spot.”

“So you think public opinion could hurt the case?” Matt shifted positions and eyed Tanner curiously.

“It could. In some ways the timing is perfect for a precedent case that would send a message to everyone: Watch yourself. Too much faith might be a bad thing.”

“You really think so?”

Tanner remembered the feelings he’d had recently, warnings, almost as if God was trying to tell him something about this case. He had long since dismissed the idea that this woman could be his Jade. But still he felt for her. “All we can do is feed the public a vivid picture of the kind of mother Jade Rudolph really is. Then we cite our case precedence and, of course, the protection offered by the constitution.”

Matt glanced at his watch. “She should be here soon. You have the tape recorder ready?”

Tanner tapped his briefcase. “I’m not bringing it out unless she’s willing to give me a deposition today, and even then—” There was a knock. Tanner glanced across the room. “I’ll get it.”

He stood, reached for the door, and pulled it open. As he did, the woman came into view—and the shock was like a sucker punch to his gut, leaving him struggling for breath.…

God, Father, it’s her
.

He stood frozen in place. It was like seeing a ghost, an image lifted from some long ago memory. How long had he searched for her? How many times had he imagined this, wondered what he would say, how he would react?

“Jade.” It came out low and ragged.

“Hello, Tanner.” She wasn’t surprised. She had known he’d
be here. The truth of that hit, and it was like a physical blow. She’d known he would be here, and still she hadn’t called him.

He composed himself and stilled his trembling hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was a whisper, and he felt tears in his eyes. It didn’t matter that she didn’t love him anymore, maybe never had. She was here, inches from him, and no matter what had gone wrong so many years ago, she was still the only woman he had ever truly loved.

“I couldn’t.” She looked the same. Her face was unlined and, though he wouldn’t have believed it were possible, even more beautiful. But something was different about her eyes. They were still green, but they didn’t sparkle. Instead they held a dense layer of fog, a cloak protecting her from anyone who might try and see into her soul.

Whatever life had dealt Jade, it had left her unwilling to share it with anyone. Especially him. Tanner guessed the barrier harbored an ocean of sadness.
What are you thinking, Jade? What happened a decade ago that drove you into another man’s arms?

He was trapped in her gaze, studying her, a million questions fighting for position when he heard Matt laugh behind him. “Aren’t you going to let her in?”

Tanner broke the lock he held on Jade’s eyes and stepped aside. “I’m sorry. Come in, Jade.”

Matt looked from Tanner to Jade and back. “Did I miss something?”

Tanner searched Jade’s face again and shivered. She was cold as ice. “Uh … Jade and I were friends. A long time ago.”

A knowing look crossed Matt’s face as Jade took a seat next to him and clutched her purse tightly in her lap.

She hates me, Lord. What did I ever do to her?

He cleared his throat. The last thing he wanted to do was
talk about Jade’s custody battle. He wanted to excuse Matt and not let her out of the room until she told him what happened.

“Do you still think you can win my son back for me?” As cold as she was toward Tanner, her eyes were filled with hope, and he remembered a conversation they’d shared over pizza once during that long ago summer. If there had been one thing Jade was determined to do in life, it was to stand by her child. She’d been so determined, that she’d told him she’d rather not have children at all if she couldn’t offer them a stable home. Again Tanner wondered what went wrong.

“It isn’t a clear-cut case. We’ve done some research on custody cases involving issues of faith. On the surface …”

The words faded to a halt. Tanner couldn’t think, let alone talk. He couldn’t make sense if he tried. Not with Jade Conner in the same room and a lifetime of unanswered questions dying on the table between them.

He shot a look at his partner and Matt cut in. “On the surface your case looks like an easy win. There’s no way a mother should lose custody of her child because of her belief in God. But what we’re seeing lately is a shift in public opinion. It’s okay to believe in God. Not okay to take a public stand on issues of faith, on areas where morality might be perceived as intolerance.”

Jade drew a shaky breath and stared at Matt. “If there’s some kind of law these days stating that
I
have to be tolerant of their views, don’t they also have to be tolerant of
mine?”

Matt cocked his head. “Depends. Tolerance is a one-way street. The social definition is to have a viewpoint that is politically, morally correct. The courts and government and media tell us we should accept all faiths, all lifestyles. What you’ve done is crossed a line. You’ve taken a stand against Channel One and apparently several other issues that the mainstream is choosing to accept.”

“Isn’t that my choice?” Jade’s voice rose.

Tanner leaned back in his chair and watched her. So some things hadn’t changed. She was still a fighter.

“Yes and no. If you were a single parent, no one would have a problem with your decisions to defend your faith. But …”

Jade’s face fell and Tanner could see the regret. “Since I’m married it’s different, right?”

“Right.” Matt crossed his arms. “Now two parents are involved. Your husband was able to convince the judge that his tolerant, accepting mind-set made him a better parent than you.”

“So why not force us to split custody? Why take him away from me?”

Tanner stepped back into the conversation. “Because parents like you have become a danger to the system. You teach your child biblical truths and clear-cut lessons on right and wrong, and suddenly, in their eyes, you’ve brought up a clone, another voter among the masses who isn’t politically correct.” He rested his elbows on the table and looked at Jade. He’d had time to catch his breath. They could talk about their past later. “At the same time, you deny your husband the chance to raise the boy with a liberal mind-set.”

Jade shifted her gaze back to Matt’s. “Why is his way better than mine?”

Tanner answered, forcing Jade to look at him again. “Because, like Matt said, public opinion has it that people strong in faith are dangerous, that we’re hateful.”

Jade’s eyes locked on his.
“We’re?”

Tanner felt as if he’d been slapped by the challenge in her tone. “Yes. You and Matt and I. Everyone at the CPRR has a deep and devoted faith.”

Her gaze fell to her hands. “I wasn’t sure.”

What is she saying, Lord? What’s happened to her?

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.…

Tanner felt himself relax. Jade obviously had something against him, but there would be time later to talk about that. Now they needed to get through the interview.

The look in Tanner’s eyes told Jade he was upset, and she found that disturbing. He hadn’t cared for her anymore than he cared for the other women he’d been with. Why had he looked so pained since she opened the door?

He was asking her questions about Ty, about their relationship and daily routine. “How old did you say he was?”

Jade felt her heart rate double. Clearly Doris Eastman had kept her promise and told Tanner nothing about her pregnancy. Still, the answers to these questions were bound to make him wonder. “Ty’s nine. He’ll be ten in a few months.”

Tanner started writing down the information, then his pen slowed. Stopped. He looked up at her, his gaze intent. “When’s his birthday?”

Jade knew he was looking for more than a date. He wanted to know when she got pregnant. She considered making up her answer, but the dates had always convinced Jim. No point in lying about a detail that would eventually come out in court. “June 14. Almost nine months after Jim and I married.” She hesitated, hating the look in Tanner’s eyes. What right did he have to look so upset? It was his fault, after all. He was the one who had used her and lied to her. “Ty was three weeks early.”