The fatherhood mandate, p.3
The Fatherhood Mandate, page 3
The judge nodded. “Thank you. Now, there are a few other items to discuss. You are an unmarried couple and, as such, your child’s physical and developmental safety is at risk. Until this child is born, neither of you will be allowed to travel more than 50 miles from this courthouse.”
“Objection, Your Honor!” Davis sputtered. “My client is not pregnant and does not pose a risk to Ms. Williams’ pregnancy.”
“Denied,” Judge Olson snapped. “The statute is very clear. Your client will fully participate in his biological child’s pre- and postnatal development. And he can only do that if he is local.”
“Wait,” Sam muttered, leaning forward to try to get his attorney’s attention. “What?”
“She can’t do this,” Wendy growled at the attorney. “Sam is leaving for Northwestern in a few days!”
Sam’s attorney leaned forward. “Objection, Your Honor. Undue burden.”
“On what grounds?”
“My client is enrolled at Northwestern University in Illinois,” Davis told her. “He will be forced to withdraw for a full year if he is unable to travel.”
The judge stared down at Sam, making him squirm in his seat as he tried to maintain eye contact. “Counselor, I understand that this will have an impact on his life, much the same as it will for Ms. Williams. However, it is this Court’s opinion that your client will be better served if he focused on preparing for the birth of his child. He always has the option of taking online courses or transferring to a local college. Request to travel outside of the state is denied.”
Before Wendy could even open her mouth to object, the judge banged her gavel. “Bailiff, remove Mrs. Maxwell from the courtroom. I’ve had enough maternal outrage for one day.”
The bailiff came to stand near their table and gestured with one hand. For a moment, it looked like Sam’s mom would refuse to go, but the attorney whispered something urgent, and Wendy picked up her purse and marched out of the room.
“Next item,” the judge continued, “I will need both Ms. Williams and Mr. Maxwell to surrender their driver’s licenses and passports.” She ignored the quiet murmur from Rylee’s parents. “You will each be given a provisional driver's license so that you can travel to work, school, medical appointments, and your parents’ homes until you have rented a place to live. In addition, you will each be fitted with a GPS ankle bracelet to track your location.”
Sam stared at the judge in a confused rage. When did getting a girl pregnant become a crime? “What the hell?” he muttered beneath his breath. “They call this due process?”
Judge Olson looked at Sam, matching his rage with a determined glare. “As a matter of fact, it is, and we do, Mr. Maxwell,” she told him. “This Court must always act in the best interest of the child, regardless of their birth status. As an unmarried father, you are also a flight risk, as this Court has learned the hard way.”
Sam gulped and looked down for a moment. “Yes, Your Honor.”
She pulled a document from the file and glanced over it. “Mr. Maxwell, I see that you have a birthday coming up. The provisional license includes a prohibition on the purchase or consumption of alcohol and CBD edibles,” she told him. “Although you will soon be of legal drinking age, please be aware that you will be arrested and referred to criminal court if you so much as step one foot into a bar, dispensary, or liquor store until your privileges are reinstated after the baby’s birth.”
She paused, leaning forward to get his attention. “If warranted, you may be required to submit to regular drug testing to validate your compliance. Is that clear?”
Sam nodded. That didn’t seem right, though. He wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
“I will also be issuing a court order to have all mail and packages for both households to be diverted to a special unit of the Children’s Court before delivery to ensure that abortifacients are not sent to your homes,” she continued. “As you know, abortifacients are illegal in this state. Please note that we are aware that this does not preclude individuals from personally delivering them to the defendants, but the Court will grant a standard request from the guardian ad litem for immediate criminal investigation if Ms. Williams miscarries. This includes an emergency access request for all electronics, including household security systems.”
He could almost feel the glare.
“Next, you will be enrolled in a program designed to facilitate your transition to parenthood. These classes, including prenatal, childbirth, and postpartum recovery, as well as essential parenting skills, will be taken jointly and at your own personal expense, unless your income falls below a certain threshold,” the judge said. “The good news is that there are several low-cost programs that meet statutory requirements, and some online courses are included. These courses, along with weekly participation in motherhood and fatherhood support groups, are mandatory. Failure to complete these requirements within the timetable provided will result in mandatory jail time.
“Last item before you are fitted for your ankle bracelets and released into your parents’ custody,” the judge said, glancing at her watch. “Ms. Williams, you are required to provide this Court with the names of all medical providers within the next three weeks. I will be issuing a court order so that your physician can legally provide copies of your medical visits and test results to the Court.” She paused. “This is a standard waiver of pregnancy-related HIPPA that allows the state to monitor your pregnancy. You do have the legal right to appeal this request.”
Sam sat back to look at Rylee. She’d dried her tears and looked like she was doing better.
“Any questions?” the judge asked. “If not, we’re adjourned.” Sam had never wanted to hear that gavel bang so bad in his life.
Chapter Four
It took hours for Wendy to calm down. She wandered around the house, crying on the phone to whatever sympathetic friend or relative she’d been able to hunt down. And just when Sam thought the worst of it was over, she would ramp it up all over again.
Typical Wendy tantrum, Sam thought as he retreated outside. He felt downright nauseous every single time she picked up that phone. It seemed like everything in their world had to revolve around her.
It had turned out to be another blisteringly hot day, baking the garden beds that hugged the deck. The closed window curtains provided him with some semblance of privacy, knowing that Wendy could come looking for him at any moment. For now, he was safe. He sat down on a couch in the shade and tried to think.
It didn’t make sense that Rylee was pregnant. She’d complained about some kind of medical condition that had allowed her doctor to get her approved for birth control pills. Yeah, there was always a tiny chance of pregnancy, but Rylee had been so certain that she couldn’t get pregnant. He’d believed her.
Rylee wasn’t his first, but she was definitely the most opinionated. More than once she’d told him that she hated how condoms felt and he didn’t question it. Why would he? When this was over, he swore to himself that he’d always glove up!
Sam laid his head back against the warm cushion and stared at the thin clouds in the distance. His attorney was already working on an appeal for the travel ban. She’d told him that this would probably take weeks and there was no guarantee that he would be allowed to travel out of state. If he couldn’t travel for tennis matches, he’d lose his place on the team, and his scholarship, for sure.
He took a deep breath. It was a small scholarship. Just enough to pay for his meal plan and books. Okay. Time to focus.
He still had his academic scholarship. It covered about half of his tuition and had to be protected. Step one was to reach out to his adviser. Maybe Professor Carr could give him some guidance on how to adjust his course load. He sat up and pulled out his phone. Then, he took a deep breath and made the call.
“You’ve reached the office of David Carr—”
Sam closed his eyes and sagged against the couch cushion. He was still trying to figure out exactly what to say when he heard the beep. “Hey, Professor Carr,” he said, hesitantly. “It’s Sam Maxwell. I really need to talk to you about something that’s come up and I really need your help sorting it out. It’s urgent. Thanks.”
He ended the call with a sigh. That didn’t sound pathetic at all, right? Dammit, he didn’t even leave his number! Sam thought about it for a minute. If he didn’t get a call back from Mr. Carr, he’d call again tomorrow.
Next up, Coach Swan. Workouts started in a few weeks. He found the number and forced himself to make the call.
“Swan.”
“Um, hey, Coach,” Sam mumbled. “It’s Sam Maxwell.”
“Hey, Sam!” As always, the coach was brusque and all business. “Looking forward to getting some serious time back on the court?”
Sam leaned forward and covered his eyes with one hand. “Yeah, Coach,” he said. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I don’t really know how to explain this, Coach,” Sam said. He blew out his breath and straightened up from his slouch. “I’m not allowed to leave Wisconsin for a while.”
There was a long pause. Finally, Coach asked the most important question, “For how long?” he asked, his deep voice raspy with disappointment.
Acid poured into Sam’s stomach as if he’d just swallowed a Carolina Reaper whole. “I don’t know, Coach,” he whispered. “Might be a few weeks. Could be more than a few months. I really don’t have an answer for you.”
“What’s going on?” Coach asked, and that was all it took for Sam to let loose. About Rylee’s pregnancy. About not being able to leave the state due to that new Wisconsin state law. About how he was afraid of losing his place on the team and his scholarships. Maybe even forced to drop out of school all together. All of it because of Rylee.
Coach Swan let him ramble until he finally ran out of words, occasionally interjecting with a grunt of acknowledgment. After a long pause, he said the words that Sam knew were coming, but didn’t want to hear. “If you can’t leave the state, you won’t be able to play in competition. And if you’re not able to play in competition, we’ll have to drop you from the team, and the school will pull back your scholarship. I’m sorry, Sam. There’s nothing I can do.”
Sam stood up and walked across the deck to the railing. “My attorney has filed an appeal. How long do I have before they take away my spot on the team, Coach?” he asked.
“A few weeks, maybe,” Coach Swan warned, his voice as gentle as Sam had ever heard it. “I can’t guarantee anything, Sam.”
Sam closed his eyes. “I know.”
“My next step is to let the athletic director know that you may not be able to return this fall,” he told him. “I can hold your place on the team until after the quarter starts. As for your scholarship, you’ll need to reach out to the financial aid department. It might not be too late for them to award your scholarship to the next person on the list.”
“Oh, okay,” Sam breathed.
“Thanks for letting me know,” Coach said. “Hopefully, you’ll get this sorted out and be back on campus in short order. Keep me in the loop.”
“Will do, Coach,” Sam replied. He could almost see the angry frown. Sam might not be his top athlete, but his forehand slice always gave him the edge.
“Don’t take too long,” Coach reminded him. “Workouts start in two weeks.”
Sam nodded as he hung up. That scholarship—and his place on the team—were already gone, he was sure of it.
He walked back to the couch and slumped down, staring at the wilting flowers that crowded the garden bed. Tennis had given him the edge for getting into Northwestern. He loved his team. He loved the game. He put everything he had into every single match, and now every single thing that he had been working for was slowly being taken away from him.
Dammit, Rylee. Why the hell did you have to get pregnant?
The next round of painful conversations started early the following morning. Sam fumbled for his phone, barely awake. “Hello?” he mumbled, scrubbing at his cheek.
“Good morning, Sam. This is Professor Carr, returning your call from yesterday.” The professor sounded way too cheerful.
Sam pushed the covers to one side so he could sit up. “Ah, good morning, professor,” he said, trying to suppress a yawn. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“So, what can I help you with, Sam?”
“It’s kinda hard to explain, sir,” Sam said, blinking his eyes in a vain attempt to wake up. “I may not be able to come back to campus this quarter and I’m not quite sure what to do.”
There was a pause. “Are you dropping for the fall quarter?” Sam could hear the concern in his adviser’s voice.
“I was hoping that I could move to remote learning, sir,” Sam slowly replied. “Right now, I can’t leave the state. And I’m not sure how long it will take to sort things out.”
“You’re a junior, right?”
“I am.”
“Hang on,” Carr said. “Let me pull up your curriculum path.” There was a bit of typing in the background. “Okay, so, you’ve got Environmental Microbiology and Uncertainty Analysis this quarter and two electives?”
“Um, I think so,” Sam said, thinking fast. “I know I’m taking Introduction to German Literature for my minor, and I think I have a leadership course as well.”
“Looks like we might be able to move you to remote learning for Uncertainty Analysis,” Carr told him. “I don’t know about your other courses. You can look online or contact the Registrar’s office for more information.”
“I can do that.” Sam scrubbed at the top of his head with his free hand, frustrated. Financial aid department. Registrar’s office. Was there anybody at that school that he didn’t have to tell that he was stuck at home because of Rylee?
“Since you might not be able to move all of your current courses to remote learning this quarter, we’ll need to move some things around and get your study plan updated,” Carr told him. “You only have a few days left to make the changes.”
“I understand, sir.” A thought occurred to him. “What if I can’t make this work remotely? Can I drop down to part time for a quarter?”
“You could,” Carr said, slowly. “But that might make it more difficult for you down the road. You’ll either need to add additional classes in subsequent quarters or you’ll have to delay graduation.”
Delay graduation? Like hell! he thought.
“Thanks, Professor,” Sam said, trying to sound calmer than he felt. “I’ll email you when I get the information from the Registrar’s office."
“Sounds good, Sam.”
Sam sank back against his pillow, covering his eyes with his forearm, the phone forgotten as it dropped to the floor. It felt like he had lost his top seed ranking due to an unforced error. Rylee was just that one shot that landed out of bounds and cost him the match. What the hell was he going to do now?
Josh, he thought. Maybe talking to his brother would help. He really missed the days of being able to just walk down the hall, plop himself on the floor of Josh’s room, and being able to just vent about life. If only Josh was still stateside.
He rolled over, scooped his phone up from the floor, then settled back against his pillow. 9:35 am. Sam screwed his eyes shut and tried to figure out the time difference. Berlin was seven hours ahead. That made it just after 7:30 pm there, right?
Praying that he’d gotten the time difference correct, Sam pulled up Josh’s number and sent a quick text. Gotta minute?
Their family plan included calls to Europe, so he wasn’t so much worried about the cost. The problem was that Josh was an architect. Even though Germany was pretty firm on the whole ‘work-life balance thing,’ Josh sometimes worked strange hours because his company’s headquarters were in Seattle.
He stared at the phone and hoped that Josh hadn’t left his phone in his work bag. Once, Josh had gone an entire weekend without calling home and Wendy had flipped out. She’d even tracked down one of Josh’s ex-girlfriends, stateside, to raise the alarm only to find out that Josh had forgotten to charge his phone.
Almost immediately, his phone rang. “Hey, Josh!” Sam said, relieved.
“Hey, bro,” Josh replied. “So, is it true?”
“Yeah,” Sam breathed. Of course, Josh knew. Wendy and her big mouth! He closed his eyes and covered them with one hand. “I don’t know what happened. She was on the Pill.”
Josh laughed. “And you didn’t wear a condom, huh? Dumbass.”
“She hates condoms, Josh!” Sam shot back. “She doesn’t like how they feel.”
“Oh, man,” Josh breathed. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, dumbass!”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that she got you to not do the one thing that would stop her from getting pregnant!” Josh told him. If Sam didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like his older brother was gloating.
“No way,” Sam snapped. “She’s always talking about how Wellesley is her future and how she can’t wait to move to the East Coast and stuff. There’s no way she wanted to get pregnant. Not now.”
Josh snorted. “Then why did she go to a pregnancy crisis center instead of heading to Illinois to get it taken care of?”
Sam stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I tried talking to her before things went south, but she was having her usual meltdown. I didn’t want to deal with her crap anymore and left it at that. None of this makes any sense.”
“Well, she’s only what, seven weeks along? There’s still time,” Josh told him. “Hang on a second, lemme do a quick search.” He paused, then said, “Looks like there’s a Sanctuary Family Planning clinic in Waukegan. Maybe you could just give them a call to see if they can give you the pills to take care of it.”
“Didn’t Wendy tell you?” Sam asked. “They put a GPS tracker on us. We’re not allowed to leave the state.”
Josh grunted. “What about having one of Rylee’s friends pick it up?” he offered. “I’m sure someone is going down there, if only to pick up some edibles.”
