Failing to Hold On

"Right up the street, on four sixty seven," Birdie agreed.

David asked for a five hundred dollar retainer, then asked for the pertinent information.

"All right," David finally said at the conclusion of a long phone conversation. "Need to contact Ms. Adams and let her know you'd like to have visitation with your children. You are their father, you do have rights, but you do not want to just show up unannounced."

"I'm right here," Birdie said quietly. "That bitch start giving you shit? Give me the phone; I handle up on her."

"Just what I'd need," Ford smiled. Birdie, I don't need bail your ass out of jail for making threats against her, okay? Much as we do not like her, she is the mother of my children."

Ford silently prayed. He had not prayed to God in a long time; in fact, he could not remember the last time he had prayed. But he prayed now.

He tapped out the phone number to Chelsea's cell phone. After a click, he was told that the number had been changed or was no longer in service.

He tapped it out again. Again, the same announcement. He even tried the number from Birdie's phone and got the same result.

"What that mean? I mean, if we can't get in touch with her?" Birdie worried.

Ford then called Chelsea's mother's cell phone. It rang a few times, then went to Loretta's cheerful greeting.

"Hey, uh, Loretta, this, uh, this is Ford," Ford said. "Was trying to get a hold of Chelsea, let her know would like to come see the kids."

He left his new phone number and then ended the message. Birdie studied his face.

"Chicken and rice okay for supper?" Birdie finally asked.

"Chicken and rice is fine," Ford mumbled.

"Baby, it's going be okay. We got us a lawyer, not that dumb ass had before. It's going be okay," Birdie encouraged.

They had finished eating and were watching the local news when Ford's phone rang. Birdie grabbed the remote and hit the 'Mute' button. Ford grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table.

"Thank God you called," Loretta said. "I honestly don't know how much more of this shit I can take, hear?"

"What? What's going on?" Ford asked.

"Little late start caring now, Mr. Udell," Loretta said. "But uh, wherever you are, where are you anyway? Wherever you are, need come get your kids."

"What about Chelsea?" Ford asked.

"You mean, the queen of England? You mean, little miss sit on her ass and feel sorry for herself?" Loretta spat. "Yes, that's right, I'm talking about you. Who? Ford, who else you think? No, you can't have the phone. Get your own, oh that's right, you don't have a phone because you can't pay your own God damned bills."

The next morning, Ford told Ed about his phone call to the attorney, then the phone call with his girlfriend's mother. Ed looked at him with a blank face.

"Then what in God's name are you doing standing here, Ford Udell?" I didn't think I'd hired a dumb ass," Ed finally said. "Go! Go get your kids. God bless, get moving."

Ford turned. Then he turned back and told Ed a sincere thank you.

"Might be the reason Birdie's not been able get a job, huh? Kids going need a momma there help them," Ed mused; Ford nodded in agreement.

As Ford drove, Birdie contacted David Upjohn. David did chuckle that Ford was making sure he earned his retainer; he hadn't been a client for twenty four hours yet.

Once in Arkansas, Ford pulled over and let Birdie get behind the wheel. Ford had driven nine miles above the posted speed limit. Birdie did not. Birdie's canvas tennis shoe hit the accelerator and pushed the powerful truck to nearly ninety miles an hour.

"Slow down, God damn it," Ford snapped.

"We going get our kids," Birdie snapped. "Can't believe you, driving like some old woman."

"Sweetheart, slow down. We're not getting anyone's kids we wind up in jail or dead," Ford said, patting her on her chubby thigh.

"God damn, hate you," Birdie snapped, wiping away her angry tears.

But she did bring the truck down to seven miles above the posted speed limit. She drove, buttocks perched on the lip of the seat, Steering wheel against her chest.

"Move the seat up, Goofy," Ford smiled.

"Shut up; this is fine," Birdie smiled.

Pulling into Lowenburg at nine o'clock at night, Birdie called Donna. The dancer agreed that Birdie and Ford could spend the night in her trailer.

"But there's just that one bed," Donna said. "I mean, shit, guess Mr. Ford can stay on the couch, but God, remember how small that couch is?"

"Ford and me will be just fine on the bed," Birdie said smugly.

"You, you, y'all did, you did get him?" Donna squealed happily.

"Told you I would," Birdie crowed.

"Then what y'all doing back?" Donna asked. "Oh, shit! Got wash them sheets. Bye."

Ford called Loretta's phone. Again, it went to voice mail. Ford left the message that he was in town, would be by in the morning to see the children.

A few minutes later, Ford pulled up to the trailer. Before the truck was even parked, the emaciated Donna was barreling out of the trailer, screaming.

Birdie screamed as well and jumped out of the passenger seat.

Ford watched the two girls hugging, screaming and chattering.

"God damn, what, huh? Need all that noise?" a bald headed man stepped out of another trailer. "Birdie! You back?"

"No. Me and Ford just staying the night," Birdie called out.

"Aw. Place ain't been same since you up and left on our of here," the man said.

The man went back into his trailer. Ford heard the man yell something at someone inside the trailer, then the door was closed.

"Sheets in the washer right now; put it on short spin," Donna said, pulling Birdie into the trailer. "Remember, dryer don't take no time. though. So? How's Texas? What you doing there?"

Ford fell asleep, sitting upright on the tiny couch. It seemed like moments later, Birdie was rousing him, telling him their bed was ready.

"Need fuck me, need make it loud," Birdie whispered as she wiggled on top of the sluggish, irritable Ford.

"What? Why, aw come on, Birdie," Ford complained.

"Come on," Birdie hissed urgently.

Ford couldn't help but smile, though. It was obvious that Birdie's intention was to make Donna jealous.

"Condoms?" Ford whispered.

"Shit! You got any?" Birdie asked.

"Nope," Ford said.

"Oh well, guess we just going have chance it," Birdie shrugged and kissed Ford.

Birdie was screaming the moment Ford's hard cock slid into her very wet pussy. He hammered her hard and fast as she screamed, screaming his name, screaming for him to fuck her, give her that big old cock.

"God damn, huh?" Donna called out.

"Sorry," Birdie lied.

"No, don't you dare pull out, damn it," Birdie hissed at Ford.

"Birdie, shit, what happens you get pregnant, huh?" Ford hissed.

"Then my fat ass gets even fatter," Birdie hissed. "Give me that big dick, huh?"

"Love you, you crazy ass girl," Ford chuckled.

"Love you too," Birdie admitted, wrapping arms and legs around him.

At nine o'clock the next morning, heart pounding hard in his chest, Ford pulled up to Loretta's trailer. Birdie got out of the truck before Ford had a moment to think, striding to the door with purpose.

"Bernice Dawn Silverstein, stop," Ford ordered.

"What I tell you 'bout that?" Birdie hissed angrily.

"It's open," Loretta called out when Ford knocked on the door of the trailer.

Ford sucked in a lungful of air, then pulled the door open. He stepped into the trailer's cool interior.

"Who's that, huh? Who is that?" Loretta asked Carrie as Ford stepped into the living room.

"Daddy!" Randy screamed.

"Daddy? Daddy!" Nicole cried out, delighted.

"That's Daddy. That's your daddy. Say 'hi Daddy, I'm trying real hard walk I'm a big girl,'" Loretta coaxed the uncertain child.

"God damn," Birdie sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah right I'm going stay in the truck and miss this."

Ford hugged and kissed his son and older daughter. He then did scoop Carrie into his arms and gave her several kisses all over her face.

"That true? You trying walk? Huh? You a big girl now, trying walk?" Ford asked, tears trickling down his face.

"Her majesty's in the kitchen," Loretta nodded with her head.

"Daddy, need see my truck. I got me a big old truck; it's a Tonka," Randy demanded.

"And I got a Lite Brite," Nicole said proudly.

"A Lite Brite? Wow, I ain't never seen one them," Birdie said. "What you do with a Lite Brite?"

"You put the pegs in? And there's a light? And it makes pictures," Nicole explained to the stranger.

"Loretta? Randy, Nicole? This is Miss Birdie. She's Daddy's friend," Ford introduced Birdie to the small gathering.

"Friend, huh?" Loretta asked, smirking.

"Yes ma'am," Birdie said. "Close friend."

"The McElroy's? First trailer up on the left?" Loretta said as Randy and Nicole showed off their truck and Lite Brite to Ford and Birdie. "They had them a garage sale. Shit, got a whole box of that crap."

"Looks like pretty good crap to me," Ford agreed.

"All right. You know she's about out of her mind just sitting there waiting for you," Loretta said. "Go on. Me and your 'friend' will keep them occupied."

Chelsea Adams was studying the table's top when Ford entered the kitchen. Her white blonde hair hung into her face, hiding it in shadows. The fluorescent light was not on but plenty of light spilled in through the dirty kitchen window.

"SO, how you been?" Ford quietly asked.

Chelsea slowly looked up. Her big brown eyes studied him.

Ford could see that some of Chelsea's hair, the hair on top of her head was cut severely short. He also saw that something was wrong with the left side of her face.

"You have do it, huh?" Chelsea said bitterly.

Her speech was slurred, guttural,

"Had to do what?" Ford asked, remaining on his feet.

"Jush have thell Maddie," Chelsea accused.

"Hmm?" Ford said, a small smile creasing his face. "Mattie? Mattie O'Brien? I thought she knew Aaall about it, huh Chelsea? Thought she was just A-Okay with you and her husband running off to New Orleans. That is what you told me, isn't it, Chelsea?"

"Loo' ad me!" Chelsea screamed. "Loo' ad me! You shee wad thath vuckin' bith div do me?"

"Yeah," Ford said heavily. "Yeah, I see what that bitch did to you."

Her left cheekbone looked sunken in. Ford could also see that Chelsea was missing some teeth on the left side of her mouth.

"Puff Sheve inn coma," Chelsea said. "He'sh on lipfe support."

"Damn, what'd she do?" Ford asked.

"Cash I in shcilled," Chelsea said.

"Cash, a cast iron skillet?" Ford guessed.

"An den I come home an you noth dere," Chelsea sobbed.

"Told you, Chelsea. Told you don't go, told you I wouldn't put up with it, Chelsea," Ford said, unaffected by her tears of self-pity.

"Yeah bud you lube me," Chelsea sobbed.

"Yeah, almost as much as you loved you," Ford agreed.

"Wad dat sposh mean?" Chelsea asked bitterly.

"The one thing, shit, the only thing we had in common? We both would do almost anything make Chelsea Adams happy," Ford said. "But I'm not going tolerate woman's supposed love me, I'm not going tolerate her fucking around on me."

"Bud id wad jush dat one dime," Chelsea wailed. "An id wad Mardi Gras!"

"You still don't get it, do you, Chelsea? You honestly just don't get it. It doesn't matter. It was just that one time, it was Mardi Gras, and it was still wrong. Let me ask you, you would have been okay with me going, um, going to the Super Bowl with my old girlfriend Farrah?" Ford asked.

"Yeah," Chelsea lied.

"I'm taking you to court," Ford said. "Birdie and I, we want custody..."

"No!" Chelsea snarled. "You nod dakin' my babies."

"Jesus Christ, why not?" Loretta snapped. "Not like you do shit, huh? Just sit on your ass; I'm one goes work, comes home, changes shitty diapers, has change Randy's underwear because he has accidents all the time. And you just sit there, or sit on the couch and whine your ass off."

"David Upjohn's my lawyer," Ford said quietly. "Again, we're going for full custody but you, damn Chelsea, you're their momma. I'll try make visitation as lenient as possible."

Vuck you; you ain'd dakin' my babies," Chelsea snarled.

When Ford and Birdie tried to take Randy and Nicole and Carrie to McDonald's for lunch, Chelsea screamed and cried and spluttered and spat, terrifying the children. Over Birdie's objections, Ford backed away.

"We'll get couple Happy Meals," Ford said.

"Chelsea, calm down; you're scaring the children," Loretta yelled at her daughter.

"God damn, going let..." Birdie screamed, the moment she and Ford stepped outside of Loretta's trailer.

"Shush," Ford said, squeezing her. "Shush. One crazy ass bitch at a time, huh?"

"Oh fuck you, I am not a crazy ass bitch," Birdie struggled.

"Quiet, Baby, please," Ford said. "Got it all on my phone. We'll let David hear it, then we'll go to court, okay?"

"Still," Birdie grumbled.

Ford grabbed two Happy Meals, a vanilla shake, and four Big Mac combo meals with three Diet Cokes and one Sprite.

The memory of vanilla milk shakes sparked something inside of Carrie and she babbled happily as she and her father shared the delicious treat. Randy and Nicole showed Miss Birdie the prize inside of their boxes and she acted dutifully impressed. While Loretta, Ford, Birdie and the children sat at the kitchen table, fluorescent light glaring, Chelsea sat in the living room, ignoring her food, ignoring her drink, ignoring the others in the trailer.

"Okay, we'll bring a pizza by for supper, okay?" Ford finally said.

Loretta hugged Ford, then hugged Birdie. Randy and Nicole also hugged Miss Birdie and their father. Carrie started fussing; she wanted to be with her father.

David Upjohn shook hands with Ford and Birdie then listened to Chelsea's screaming tirade on the recording. He nodded his head somberly and advised Ford that they would see about getting in to see Judge Franklin Rosebaum in the morning.

"Uh, bit of advice? Don't call him 'FDR' or 'Roosevelt,' okay?" David smirked.

"I'm just going call him 'Your Honor,'" Ford assured his lawyer.

"Your Honor? Hmm! Never thought of that," David said. "All right, first thing tomorrow morning, hear? Court opens at eight. Not nine, not ten, eight."

David's contacts must have been good. When Ford and Birdie showed up at Loretta's trailer at five o'clock with a pepperoni pizza for the children and a Supreme for the adults, Chelsea screamed and sputtered, waving the court order at Ford. Ford held Birdie back by her chubby arm.

"Chelsea, shit! I told you! I sat right here and told you; I am suing you for custody," Ford reminded the enraged woman.

"Yeah," Birdie just had to throw in.

"Bernice Dawn Silverstein," Ford snapped.

"What I tell you 'bout that, huh?" Birdie snarled at Ford.

"Well, you nod eedin' here," Chelsea snarled.

"Hell they not," Loretta said. "Don't like them eating here? Go sit in your room and feel sorry for yourself. I'm not passing up free food."

Judge Rosebaum was a rotund man with a beatific smile and a calm voice. He listened to David's arguments, then sat patiently while Eugene Goldman pointed out Ford's willful abandonment of the three children, pointed out that Ford not only abandoned the three children, but left Chelsea Adams with no means of support, had even cancelled the rent on their home.

"Your Honor, my client had been given erroneous legal advice by a uh, James Valpo, a paralegal masquerading as an attorney," David said. "My client was advised that he had no legal claim to the children."

"Then he should have done a little checking," Eugene said smugly.

"However, Mr. Udell has been faithfully sending in child support, seven hundred and fifty dollars every month. Two fifty per child," David continued.

"Hmm, there's no mention; does your client have proof of this?" Judge Rosebaum asked.

Chelsea could show no source of income. Chelsea could show no receipts pertaining to the children's' care. She could not even name their pediatrician, their dentist.

"He'd nod ephen day real fadder," Chelsea sneered.

"Oh?" Judge Rosebaum asked, gray eyebrow cocked.

"Birth certificates, Your Honor," David said. "Mr. Udell was in the delivery room with Ms. Adams each time his, their children were born. Each child was born at Barrister's Medical Center, Oldenburg, Arkansas. And each time, Ms. Adams listed Ford Udell as the father."

"Yeah well, he'd only one stdupid 'nuph..." Chelsea started to say.

"And, DNA testing done on each child," David continued. "Shows that Ford Udell is ninety nine point nine nine eight percent the father of Randall Aaron Udell, Nicole Amy Udell and Carrie Rene Udell."

Eugene looked at Chelsea. She just glared at Ford.

When David played the recording of Chelsea's bitter words from the moment Ford entered the kitchen, up to her screaming tirade when Ford and Birdie wanted to take the children to McDonald's for lunch. Eugene threw his hands up in surrender. Chelsea continued to glare at Ford.

Eugene just stared blankly at the foont of the courtroom when David presented the police report from the night Chelsea struck Ford. Chelsea continued to glare hatefully at Ford.

Then Loretta stated firmly that Chelsea did not take care of the children, did nothing to provide for the children. It was up to Loretta to feed the three children their breakfast while Chelsea just sat at the kitchen table, or sat in the living room and watched television. The children rarely had lunch, Randy usually had soiled his underwear because their mother did not diligently monitor his bathroom habits. Carrie's diaper was usually full to leaking by the time Loretta came home from her shift at the Lowen County bag manufacturing plant. After cleaning Randy and Carrie, then it was up to Loretta to cook supper.

"Your Honor? I love my grandbabies, love them to death, you hear? But shit! I'm tired! Work all day, then come home and got to work some more? I'm tired. Believe it or not? I'm be fifty next month and I need a break," Loretta said.

"Dans a lod Mudder," Chelsea snarled.

"What is it about women, hmm?" Judge Rosebaum asked, smiling. Some of them just get more beautiful minute they get in their fifties. Men? They just fall apart, but women?"

"Don't look like you falling apart too bad there," Loretta smiled coquettishly.

"Duct tape, Ms. Adams. Lots and lots of duct tape," Judge Rosebaum mock-whispered.

"Humph," David smiled.

"Yes, Counselor?" Judge Rosebaum asked.

"Nothing, Your Honor, absolutely nothing," David said quickly.

Judge Rosenbaum ruled that the three children would go with Ford Udell, but the case would be reviewed in ninety days. Ms. Adams would have ninety days to secure employment, ninety days to find suitable housing for the children.

"You nod dakin' my schillin," Chelsea screamed at Ford. "Mudder vucker, you nod dakin' my babies!"

Judge Rosenbaum ordered that a Sheriff's Deputy would accompany Ford to Loretta's trailer so that Ford could pack the children's' clothing and toys. Chelsea screamed and sputtered and sobbed the entire time.

Birdie actually did a dance of joy in the parking lot of the courthouse. Ford smiled sadly, shaking his head.

"What?" Birdie demanded. "Ford, we won!"

"Did we? Birdie, Shitty a person as she is? She's still their momma. Neglectful as she is? She's still their momma."

"You still love her," Birdie accused.

"I love the fact that we made three children together. But, no, Birdie I don't love her," Ford denied.

"You're still in love with her!" Birdie screamed.

"No. No I am not. I'm in love with this insane woman came all way to Texas with me. Bernice, I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, okay?" Ford said firmly.

"Then why are you, and God damn it! Don't call me Bernice!" Birdie said.

"Birdie, shit, you just watched a woman fall apart. You saw what happened to her, to her face. Shit! They had shave her head stitch up her head where Mattie bashed her head in with a cast iron skillet. And we're taking the last thing keeps her human. No, I'm not in love with her, I don't love her, but I do care about her," Ford tried to explain as the Sheriff's Deputy flashed his lights to alert them that he was ready to go.