The fatherhood mandate, p.2
The Fatherhood Mandate, page 2
“A ward of the state? I don’t understand, Dad!” Sam exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair in exasperation. So what if the ultrasound detected something that looked like a heartbeat? That didn’t mean anything!
His dad sighed. He put an arm around Sam and pulled him close so that their shoulders touched. “It means that both you and Rylee are responsible for making sure that those cells become a baby and that baby is your responsibility until he or she legally becomes an adult. The State of Wisconsin is going to monitor both of you every step of the way.”
“I don’t understand!” Sam scrubbed at his face, a feeling of raw panic making him sweat.
“I guess we’ll find out on Monday,” his dad said as he released him. “We should probably retain an attorney. Let me make some calls.”
Chapter Three
Sam trailed after his parents as they slowly walked down the hallway to the courtroom. His mom had insisted that he wear his good suit, the one that they made him buy for special events, like the occasional formal dinners or funerals. He only had time for a light breakfast, just toast with some sort of nut butter, before they hopped into the car. Dad had said that they were lucky to be at the top of the docket. But that meant that they had to check in before 8 am.
As he stood behind his parents while they talked to the attorney, Sam looked around. The hallway was nearly empty. Children’s Court should start later in the day, he groused.
The last three days had been sheer hell.
Wendy had been in high rage and spent the entire weekend in fall cleaning mode. That meant going beyond the usual dusting/vacuuming/floor scrubbing and into full-blown carpet cleaning/window washing/household sanitizing frenzy. Her outrage was palatable. She was a godly woman, she told him repeatedly. This was not supposed to happen to families like hers.
Sam had tried to stay out of her way, almost barricading himself in his bedroom. He vaguely remembered that the state’s constitution had been amended a few years ago to include that life began at conception. But arresting Rylee just because she was pregnant sounded illegal. He needed to know more.
He had started with Reddit. Seemed like a logical choice. A quick search of ‘forced pregnancy’ brought up hundreds of individual posts, each of them overflowing with articles, opinions, and video clips. It was just too much.
Social media was a bust. Twitter was a nightmare of competing squabbles that seemed to flail around the ecosystem in a frantic quest for dominance. TikTok felt like a tsunami of short clips that seemed to alternate between an obsession with portraying pregnant women almost as if they were complete innocents in urgent need of protection and equating laws forcing women to carry unwanted pregnancies as fascism. Even YouTube let him down.
So many conspiracy theories. It was information overload. Sam had spent two days slogging through it on and off, but couldn’t seem to make much headway, so he gave up.
After church on Sunday, he had tried again. An online article led him to Discord. He found a server called Bodily Autonomy, which led him to Prolife. From there, he found Forced Fatherhood.
Finally. The server included a number of channels, and he spent the afternoon delving into the dark side of things.
Apparently, according to Wisconsin’s state constitution, not only did life begin at conception, but actual citizenship, with all the rights and responsibilities, was conferred with the embryo’s first recorded heartbeat. And, just like Dad had said, unmarried women, or those who were getting a divorce, were automatically taken into custody to review their risk of hurting themselves or their embryo.
Assuming that Rylee was pregnant, and it was his, Sam still had no idea why he had to appear in court this early in her pregnancy. The channel talked about the need to establish paternity and some obligatory parenting program with mandatory mentorship meetings, but little else.
He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the acid eating into his stomach. This was just a small delay, he told himself. After this was done, he could start packing up his car for the move into that sweet new condo right off of campus. Yup, just a few more hours and things would get back to normal. Absolutely.
“Sam?” his dad said, his voice slightly raised so that it echoed in the marbled hallway.
“Yeah, Dad,” Sam answered. “Sorry, just a lot going on.” He walked around the bench his parents were sitting on so that he could join the conversation.
His dad sighed. “I know, son. But we need you to think. What day did you and Rylee break up? It’s important.”
Sam looked down and tried to focus. “Which time?”
Their attorney, an older woman with a perpetual frown carved into her face, leaned forward. “Explain,” she said.
“Explain what?” Sam asked. “We broke up a couple of times, but somehow things just didn’t end.”
The woman nodded. “Think carefully about this next question. Were you exclusive? Or did Rylee have other men in her life that she might have been sleeping with in the last few months?”
“What?” Sam exclaimed. “Why does that matter?”
“Because if Rylee had sexual relations with anyone else, then we will be able to contest Rylee naming you as the alleged father,” the attorney drawled, a wicked smile twisting that frown. “You may not actually be the biological father.”
“We didn’t talk about our relationship, but Rylee didn’t sleep around,” he responded. “At least, I don't think so.” He thought about what he’d heard about Rylee and Kathryn and mentally shrugged. So what if she messed around with another girl. It wasn’t as if they could get married or anything. It had been a few years, but hadn’t the state passed some law that restricted marriage to just one man and one woman?
“What if he doesn’t really know, Olivia?” his mom asked, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Rylee does have a reputation at church. Could that be a way to get him out of this until they’re able to do a DNA test?”
Olivia shook her head. “The way that the law is written, at this stage we would need third-party testimony or the actual biological father to come forward to claim paternity,” she told them.Third-party testimony can be very messy and expensive to litigate. The court will not accept social media statements or even photographs or videos of the alleged relationship because deepfake technology is so good. So, unless the biological father steps forward and Rylee agrees, Sam is on the hook until a DNA test absolves him.”
His mom moaned and threw her head back to glare at the ceiling. “So, no matter what, he will still have to go through the motions and pay that whore money until we can get a DNA test done.”
“Mom!” Sam gasped. His mom never really liked Rylee, but this was getting really old.
The attorney ignored him. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Sam winced and looked over at his dad, hoping he would step in. Rylee might not be perfect, but the name calling was really beginning to get to him. So much for being a godly woman, he thought.
“Enough, Wendy,” Dad said, impatiently tapping his fingers against the side of his leg. “Based on what I read, Sam will have to pay half of the expenses related to Rylee’s pregnancy until a DNA test confirms paternity. Is that right?”
The attorney nodded. “Yes, but that’s only part of it.” She sighed, glancing up at Sam. “As unmarried parents, you will be enrolled in the Wisconsin Individual Family Education program. It includes classes like childbirth preparation, parenting, and even a finance class. If you are confirmed to be the biological father, you will also have to attend child developmental training on an annual basis until the child is three years-old.”
Sam found himself sitting on the bench next to his dad. It was too much. He had a full plate this year.
Olivia held up one finger to get everyone’s attention. “One more thing. Sam and Rylee are required to live together in a residence that is separate from either family beginning in Rylee’s third trimester.” She paused. “That way, you’re close by when she goes into labor.”
What the hell?
“What if I don’t want to live with her?” Sam demanded. “It’s too late for me to find another apartment near campus for just the two of us!”
“Cohabitation until the baby is a few months old is not optional unless there is documented proof of domestic abuse or a pending rape trial,” she told him. “Be grateful that the girl hasn’t claimed either of these or you’d be on the hook for 100% of prenatal expenses until it was sorted out at trial.”
She glanced at Andrew, then made significant eye contact with Wendy. “Last thing to consider: grandparents are allowed brief visits only. No babysitting until cleared by the guardian ad litem because the legislation isn’t clear on where the line is between the occasional sleepover and taking over parental care.”
“So, if this is my grandchild, I’m not allowed to have a sleepover or take them to church?” his mom snarled.
The attorney smiled, no doubt hearing the irony in his mom’s indignation. “That depends on what the guardian ad litem allows. And that depends on you. So, be nice, Wendy!”
The bailiff opened the courtroom doors. “The judge will see you now,” he said.
As they walked in, Sam noticed that the room was much smaller than he’d imagined. Gone was the elevated judge’s bench, a jury box, and tables for the prosecution and defense like he’d seen on TV. Instead, the room had four narrow tables with a small desk for the stenographer tucked in the far corner. One desk, that he assumed was for the judge, faced the room, with two smaller tables directly in front of it. Another desk was off to the side, with a number of files neatly stacked on the far-right corner. Enormous monitors hung on the side walls.
Rylee’s parents were already seated at the small table on the right, along with their attorneys. Sam’s dad herded them into the room and, with a quick nod to Rylee’s dad, gestured for them to have a seat at the other table. Almost as if they had come to an agreement earlier, Sam’s mom wedged herself between the attorney and Sam’s dad. Sam took the seat on the far side, nervously brushing his hand against his tie as he sat.
He looked over to try to get some idea as to how angry Rylee’s parents were. Rylee’s mom looked like she was on the verge of passing out as she leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder, her bleached hair trailing off to one side. His black suit seemed to leach the color from her face, making her makeup a vivid and almost comical color against her ashen skin. Rylee’s dad didn’t look too well, either. He was on the River Hill’s Board of Trustees. This probably didn’t look too good for him.
A door at the other side of the room opened, and Rylee was escorted to her parents by a police officer. She was wearing an orange jumpsuit and her long, black hair was carefully braided down her back. No jewelry, and her ever-present iPhone was missing. She looked as lost as Sam felt.
Her mom sprang up and smothered her with hugs, alternatively smearing tears into her makeup and patting Rylee’s back as if she was a toddler. Her dad eventually got up and briefly joined the family hug before urging them to sit. At no point did anyone in the family even look in his direction.
An older man stood in the doorway, watching Rylee’s family for a moment before making his way to the side desk. He sat, sorted through the files, and pulled one of them out. The others were returned to the side.
“All rise,” the bailiff said. “The Honorable Judge Christina Olson presiding.”
Sam followed his dad’s lead as the judge walked into the room, absently smoothing his tie as he stood. She was a tall woman. Her ebony skin and closely cropped hair made her expression seem much sterner than he had expected. Her white lace collar was stark against her black robe.
The judge sat down, cracked her gavel, and got down to business.
“Rylee Williams and Samuel Maxwell, you have been brought before this court because your unborn biological child has been declared a ward of the state. Under State of Wisconsin statutes, we are here to determine the facts leading up to Ms. Williams viable pregnancy, enroll you in the Wisconsin Individual Family Education program, and to ensure that you finalize post-delivery financial and placement arrangements for your biological child, which is expected to be born”—she paused and looked down at the file on her desk—“in approximately thirty-three weeks.”
Thirty-three weeks? Sam screwed his eyes shut. That took him past the entire NCAA tennis season and into the National Playoffs!
He opened his eyes, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of Rylee. She was hunched over; her face buried in her hands as she rocked back and forth, silently crying. Her mom reached out to hold her, but Rylee shrugged her off.
Sam pursed his lips in sympathy. Rylee either needed to be completely smothered in hugs to be comforted or left alone. You never knew what she needed until you were in that moment.
The judge ignored the scene. “Attorney James Mueller has been appointed as your biological child’s guardian ad litem,” she said as she waved a hand to introduce the man sitting at the side desk. “He is responsible for representing the best interests of your child. This includes a financial resource assessment and participating in child placement negotiations or adoption, if you both agree to it.”
Sam’s mom had enough. “Investigate the facts?” she exclaimed, her face crimson with rage as she glared at Sam, then the judge. “We don’t even know if this . . . this . . . this . . . girl is pregnant and, even if she is, that it’s my son’s!”
The judge banged on her gavel. “Order in the court,” she said, sounding just a bit annoyed. “Mrs. Maxwell, I will have you removed if we have any more outbursts.”
Dad put his hand on his mom’s arm. “Stop,” he murmured. “You’re not helping.”
“But Your Honor—”
Sam’s attorney stood.
“Yes, Counselor?”
“Olivia Davis, Your Honor,” the attorney said. She looked down at Sam’s mom. “My client’s mother is distraught, and with good reason. May we ask the Court to validate how we know that there is a viable pregnancy? Sometimes tests can be deceiving.”
The judge took a deep breath. “I’ll allow it, Counselor.” The attorney sat down and the judge turned to the guardian ad litem. “Mr. Mueller, was there more than one ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s placement and fetal heartbeat?”
Mueller looked surprised. “Of course, Your Honor. It’s a standard procedure to repeat both the pregnancy test and ultrasound as a part of the intake process. Ms. Williams would not have been detained if we had not been able to validate that this was a viable pregnancy.”
Judge Olson dipped her head slightly to acknowledge the information. “Thank you, Mr. Mueller. No issues found?”
He smiled. “Your Honor, my client is approximately seven weeks old and appears to be healthy.”
“That’s good news!” the judge responded with a slight smile, then turned back to Sam’s attorney. “And, in answer to your next, obvious question, this court will rely on Ms. Williams’ sworn testimony to determine the child’s biological father.” She gave Rylee a sardonic look. “I don’t believe that I need to remind anyone about the penalty for perjury, do I?”
Rylee turned away and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.
Wendy began to sputter. The judge raised her hand to still her simmering outrage. “Unless you have pertinent third-party testimony or another man who is claiming to be the child’s actual biological father, final determination will be made after the child is born with a court-mandated DNA test.”
“Your Honor, will the Court allow us to request amniocentesis to test for birth defects and to determine if my client is the biological father?” Davis asked.
Judge Olson looked at the guardian ad litem. “Counselor, I know that there is a small risk of miscarriage, but will allow it if you agree.”
Mueller looked down for a moment. “I will only agree to amniocentesis if Ms. Williams’ physician finds just cause. There is no reason to put my client at risk if we don’t need to.”
“So ordered,” the judge responded.
“I don’t understand,” Sam whispered to his dad. “They can do a test to verify paternity while she’s still pregnant?”
Dad nodded. “Usually, people wait until after the baby is born to run the DNA test.”
The judge cleared her throat, not so subtly bringing their attention back to the bench. “Ms. Williams, I need you to confirm your date of birth for the Court,” she said. “According to your driver’s license, you turned eighteen on December 22nd of last year. Is that correct?”
Rylee bit her lip. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Thank you for confirming that, Ms. Williams,” the judge replied. “I’m glad we don’t have to make a referral to criminal court for statutory rape charges.” She paused and looked down at the papers on her desk. “I also see no report of rape or domestic abuse. Can you confirm this for the Court?”
Rylee stared at her hands. “Yes, Your Honor,” she whispered.
The judge leaned forward. “Can you repeat that a bit louder for the Court?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Rylee said, lifting her chin.
“I need you to be very clear with me on this,” Judge Olson told her, her dark eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did Sam Maxwell do anything physically or verbally that might cause someone to reasonably fear physical or sexual assault?”
Sam held his breath, looking from Rylee to the judge and back as he tried to swallow his outrage. What the absolute fuck?! Of course, he hadn’t hurt Rylee. She always said ‘yes’ when he wanted to have sex. Isn’t that what consent was all about?
After a long moment, Rylee slowly shook her head. “Of course not, Your Honor,” she said. “I’m not afraid of Sam.” He relaxed against his chair, struggling to keep his relief under control.
