My Son Slammed the Door on Me. The Next Morning, My Phone Exploded.

I opened my phone and scrolled through the messages more carefully. Most were from Marcus: Mom, please call. We need to talk.

But one was from Jessica: Linda, I don’t know what Marcus said to you, but we need you to come back. It’s important. Important.

Not “we’re sorry.”

Not “we made a mistake.”

Just: It’s important. I finished my coffee. Then I made the call.

Not to Marcus. To a lawyer. The Decision
Her name was Patricia Drummond.

She was a family law attorney in Tampa that I found through a quick Google search and a handful of reviews praising her no-nonsense approach. I called her office at 9 a.m. “Drummond Law, how can I help you?”

“I need to speak to an attorney about grandparents’ rights,” I said.

There was a pause. “Are you being denied access to your grandchildren?”

“Yes.”