Page 108 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
A twinge of unease pricked the back of my neck but I ignored it when the judge started speaking again.
“All right. Let’s get started.” He nodded down to the stenographer, whose fingers started flying as she dictated every word of Judge Tubor’s legalese. He kicked off the proceedings with a summary of the custody petition and the activities he’d mandated during our first appearance.
“It is my understanding that no agreement between Ms. Carlson and Ms. Holt could be reached outside of court. Correct?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Eleanor’s attorney and Stuart answered in unison.
“Okay.” Judge Tubor looked up from his notes and took the reading glasses off his face. “Then I’ll be rendering a custody decision this morning. Ms. Carlson, since you are presenting this petition, we’ll start with you. I’ll ask you some questions and then you’ll have the opportunity to present witnesses on your behalf.”
Eleanor and her attorney both nodded.
Then the judge looked to me and my posse. “Once Ms. Carlson has presented her statement and witnesses, Ms. Holt, you’ll have the chance to respond and present witnesses of your own.”
Stuart and I both nodded.
The judge leaned forward. “Before we start, I’d like to remind you all that my concern is and will remain with the child. My decision will be made in order to provide the best possible environment to ensure the child is given every possible opportunity to thrive.”
I did my best to keep my face impassive, but with every “the child,” my jaw clamped tighter. Judge Tubor knew my family. He went to our church. His wife helped my mom organize potluck Sundays. And he knew Coby. Calling my son “the child” was impersonal and did nothing to ease the ball of tension in my gut.
“With that understood, let’s begin,” Judge Tubor declared. “Ms. Carlson, your petition is fairly uncommon for a grandparent. You’re seeking six months of full custody with limited visitation during that time from the child’s mother. You have no evidence suggesting Ms. Holt is an unfit parent. Can you explain why you feel you need to have the child for such an extended period of time away from his home?”
The child. Seriously?
“Your Honor, I feel that my grandson would do well living with me for a good portion of the year. It would give us a chance to bond and catch up on all of the years I’ve missed because he’s only been with his mother.”
I swallowed a growl. This missing “bond” was entirely Eleanor’s doing. She could have reached out years ago. Shipping my son to Michigan was not the answer.
“Why do you feel that living with you in Michigan is the only way for you to catch up?” the judge asked, as if reading my thoughts. “Couldn’t you plan more visits here so as to not interrupt Coby’s home life?”
“I think the separation is necessary,” Eleanor answered. “I need him to be away from her so that I can be sure my grandson is getting a proper moral upbringing.”
Proper moral upbringing? I nearly came out of my chair and would have if not for Stuart’s hand landing on mine. Mom was getting worked up too because behind me, her chair started squeaking again.
I shook my head as I clamped my mouth shut.
Eleanor Carlson was nuts. She thought she could teach my son a proper moral upbringing? Her own son had become a drug dealer and had thought killing innocent women was acceptable.
Before I could mutter a sarcastic retort about her own parenting skills, Judge Tubor continued. “Ms. Carlson, you’re suggesting that Ms. Holt is unfit to raise Coby yet you have no evidence proving she isn’t providing him a proper home. The child psychologist has sent me her report, and by all accounts, Coby is a happy and well-adjusted child. The parenting plan you’re proposing would cause an extreme disruption to his home life. Why should I grant your request when you haven’t given me any reason to take Coby from his mother for six months out of the year?”
I leaned forward to stare at Eleanor’s profile. She was floundering a bit, her brown eyes widening as she looked to her attorney for an answer.
I smirked at her lack of an answer. Had they given no thought to the questions the judge would ask? Had she not practiced answer after answer in her bathroom mirror like I had? Did she honestly think she’d just waltz in here and get custody of Coby without proving she deserved it?
Maybe I’d spent the past month worrying for nothing. Maybe Eleanor wasn’t just crazy, but stupid too.
Eleanor’s attorney final spoke up. “Your Honor, if I may—”
“You may not.” The judge shut him down. “I’d like Ms. Carlson to answer the question.”
Eleanor straightened and cleared her throat. “I don’t have specific evidence that she is an unfit mother. What I do know is that woman knew nothing about my son. If I don’t get the chance to get Coby away from her, he’ll never have the opportunity to learn about his father. He’ll be brainwashed into thinking my wonderful Everett was a monster.”
“I have never, not once, said anything derogatory about Everett to Coby.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think them through.
The judge’s eyes sliced to mine and he frowned.
I shrank back into my chair. “Sorry.”
“You’ll get your chance, Ms. Holt.” Judge Tubor dismissed me and went back to Eleanor.
