by Layla Hagen
The doors to the courtroom are open so I peek inside, not feeling brave enough to walk in by myself. I wish Alan were here already. The courtroom resembles what I've seen on TV, albeit smaller. Hervis and his lawyer are already inside, sitting at one table. An empty table is on the other side of the room where I assume Alan and I will sit. The judge's table is in the center at the far end, and the witness box next to it. Right now, it looks like a stake to me, one where I'm about to be burned. There is no jury in custody litigation cases, Alan told me.
Eventually, I walk inside and take the seat at the empty table, because I look ridiculous pacing around outside. My palms become sweaty with each passing moment, and I try to wipe them discreetly on my skirt. My pulse races and my mouth is as dry as cotton. Everything will be all right!
I repeat this to myself a few times, to no avail. Breathing in and out of my nose, I remind myself that Alan has built a rock-solid case. I've been running around like mad the past two days, asking everyone from the kids' teachers to former clients of mine for references. The aim is to build my credibility. Christopher has been doing the same, and Alan has been updating me on his involvement this entire week. I haven't spoken to Christopher directly, and Alan strongly advised that he should not come by our house, since Hervis will use the outburst at the hospital against him.
I was not in the right state of mind to call Christopher. When I wasn't running around asking for references, I was around corners crying out of fear of losing the kids, or pouring all my energy in holding back the tears when I was around them. Alan arrives five minutes before the trial is set to begin, sitting next to me.
"We'll do great," he says in a confident voice, offering me a reassuring smile. I cannot muster the energy to return it.
I glance up at Hervis, who is whispering something to his lawyer. Alan and Christopher did some background research on Hervis. Turns out he grew up in a children's home for the first years of his life, then went from foster family to foster family, suffering abuse in many households.
I have found some sympathy for him, imagining he chose this job so other children don't have to endure what he did. It's commendable, really, but since he's fighting against me today, an almost maniacal wish to throttle him drowns that sympathy.
Once the judge, Carina Williams is here and everything begins, my mind all but shuts off, experiencing everything as if in a dream, only hearing snippets. When Hervis is asked why he’s adamant that I shouldn’t be in charge of the children, I wish I could shut off my ears altogether. Unfortunately, I can’t, so I hear him talk for what seems like an eternity, bringing up every item on his blacklist: losing my job shortly after my parents passed away, using the life insurance to purchase a house, refusing to find another job but instead working on my own and subjecting the children to the risks of an uncertain income.
"And then there was the matter of her previous employer's lawsuit against her," Hervis continues.
Alan springs to his feet. "Your Honor, I have represented Ms. Hensley in that matter. The previous employer dropped the lawsuit. I have personally explained to Mr. Jackson all the details, and why Ms. Hensley was absolutely not at fault. I can reiterate all the facts right now if necessary."
"That won't be necessary," the judge says.
Hervis's lawyer speaks up. "Even so, it's proof Ms. Hensley is prone to run-ins with the law."
Alan's nostrils flare. "So are speeding tickets. Would you hold those against her too?"
Hervis's lawyer shakes his head, but not in defeat. Instead, he's confident. Next, Hervis brings up Christopher, insisting that the mere fact I've allowed him in our life proves I can’t decide what’s best for the minors, and that the car accident is irrefutable proof. By the time he's done, he almost convinces me that I'm not good enough for the kids.
I look at the judge most of the time, trying to gauge the impact Hervis's words have on her, but Ms. Williams has the best poker face I have ever encountered. Her expression remains stoic. Under the table, I clench and unclench my hands so often that my nails have carved dents into my palms.
When I'm asked to speak, my spine stiffens, but I clear my throat and square my shoulders, gathering my wits. "When my parents passed away, everything changed. I admit I was not prepared for all the responsibility, and the start was rocky. I had no experience raising kids, but I'm a quick learner. I'm not afraid of hard work or ashamed to ask anyone for advice—teachers, therapists, or anyone who has more experience than I do. They are my family, and I'm willing to do anything to make sure they will grow up to be responsible, well-adjusted adults. Don't take them away from me, please."
The judge nods, clasping her hands together on the table. Afterward, it's Alan's show.
"Your Honor," Alan says, exuding confidence and competence, "I would like to shed some light on Ms. Hensley's financial situation. While it is true that she was fired from her previous job, her employer cited as reasons the fact that Ms. Hensley became less flexible and had to cut back on the hours she worked, frequently arriving late and leaving early. Of course, it's illegal to fire someone for suddenly having a family, so the employer's report leaves out that the reason for Ms. Hensley's apparently sudden disrespect for the company schedule was because she needed to drop off and pick up her younger siblings from school. I have two small kids myself. Frankly, they are the reason I started my own law firm because I could no longer abide by the draconian schedule of my employer."
"There is no need to bring in personal examples, Mr. Smith," the judge says firmly, but not unkindly. Still, my heart stutters. She did not interrupt Hervis once. This can't be a good sign.
"Of course. Back to Ms. Hensley. I would like to submit her financial records for your consideration, showing her income in the months since she was fired. It is stable and can provide a comfortable living for the children in her care. This was possible because Ms. Hensley acted quickly after her parents passed away, immediately assessing that she would not be able to afford the mortgage, thus selling that house and buying one that was affordable using the life insurance. I understand that cashing in the life insurance is sometimes done for the guardian's benefit—and I applaud social services for investigating the matter—but in this case, it was clearly for the welfare of the children."
The judge doesn’t say anything, her face as blank as ever.
"On the subject of their welfare, we have obtained written statements from the children's teachers and educators. All of them praise the children's academic performance and involvement in extracurricular activities, insisting Ms. Hensley has always shown an active interest in her siblings' development. We also have a statement from the children's therapist. She affirms that the children coped with their grief in an age-appropriate way, and that Ms. Hensley's actions indicate she has the best interest of the children at heart, putting their needs above hers. As an example, Ms. Hensley called the therapist before engaging in a romantic relationship with Christopher Bennett, wanting to make sure it would not hurt the children emotionally. I would also like to emphasize that Ms. Hensley took the children to a therapist of her own initiative, hoping it would help them in dealing with their grief."
Alan pauses, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of him. I had no idea someone could speak so fast for so long. After placing his glass back on the table, he continues.
"On the subject of Christopher Bennett, I will first shed light on the subject of the car accident. As the police report states, the other driver was at fault, running a red light and slamming into Mr. Bennett's car. Furthermore, we obtained statements from the nurses and other personnel who were in the ER waiting room. They all attest that Mr. Bennett was very affectionate with Chloe when they arrived, constantly reassuring her and attempting to cheer her up."
My heart swells at this, as if I've just hugged a kitten to my chest. This is my Christopher. Oh, how I wish he could be here right now. Alan flat-out said no, for obvious reasons. But obtaining all these statements in two days would have been im
possible without Christopher's help.
"He was in no way a danger to the girl, quite the contrary. He only became unnerved when Mr. Hervis Jackson began launching accusations at him without first listening to a full explanation from either Ms. Hensley, Mr. Bennett, or Chloe. The personnel have used words such as ‘unfair’ and ‘aggressive in his questioning’ to describe Mr. Jackson. You can read their complete declarations in the written statements. There is also a written statement from Mr. Bennett."
Afterward, the judge retires behind closed doors to assess our case, and Alan tries to encourage me, insisting the case is rock solid. Despite his assurances, I bite my nails like a madwoman. I don't know how much time passes before we're told the judge is ready for us.
"I have considered all that has been said in the courtroom and the written statements from the defending party. On that note, I’m surprised the accusing party did not present any such statements—interviews, reports or declarations from third parties who would support the claims."
Hervis's lawyer speaks up. "Your Honor, Mr. Hervis Jackson has extensive experience when it comes to such cases."
"Experience can lead to a subjective interpretation of observations, which is why third-party statements are welcome. Frankly, I'm dismayed you have not interviewed teachers or any of the personnel present at the hospital." Hervis flinches. The judge's tone is as neutral as ever, but hope blooms in my chest. She isn’t done. "The concerns you mentioned could have been put to rest with thorough investigations." She directs her gaze to Alan and me next. "I commend the defending party for doing such extensive work to paint a full picture of the family situation, especially in such a short time. The written statement from Mr. Bennett was very heartfelt, and considering the third-party references and statements, truthful. As such, I am convinced that Victoria Hensley should retain full custody of her siblings."
It takes a few seconds for her words to sink in, and when they do, I barely restrain myself from leaping from my chair and hugging the judge and Alan. Euphoria flows through my veins, filling me with an infectious energy, and apparently turning me deaf. The judge is still talking, but I don't hear one word. All I can think about is leaving this room and sharing the news with my siblings, and with Christopher.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Victoria
I call Sienna the second I step out of the courtroom. At this time of day, the kids are all home. My words come out rushed and borderline unintelligible, but she understands, squealing at the top of her lungs. As she relays the information to Lucas and Chloe, they start squealing in the background. After clicking off, I hurry after Alan, who is exiting the building.
"Thank you so much for all you've done," I tell him once I catch up with him outside. "Can I ask you one thing? What did Christopher's statement say?"
"How did it go?"
I spin around so fast that I almost lose my balance. Christopher stands before me, tall and handsome, a hint of dark circles tinting the area under his eyes. His hair is disheveled, a sign he's run his hand through it repeatedly. His proximity sends my senses into a tailspin, and all my instincts crave to soothe him, to jump in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of him. With the trial no longer hanging over my head, I can focus on him. His brow is furrowed, and I do not like those lines on his forehead one bit.
"Christopher!" Alan exclaims. "You didn't say you'd be here."
"I was planning to wait at home for your call, but I got anxious and drove here a few hours ago."
"Hours?" I ask, voice strangled with emotion. He was probably here outside while we were waiting for the judge to decide.
"Yeah. I have now skipped going into my office for three days straight. First time ever. There's a distinct possibility I'll never be allowed to step inside Bennett Enterprises again. I take it the judge ruled in your favor?"
"Yes," I reply. "Yes, she did."
Relief melts his frown, lighting up his expression.
"I'm sorry I can't stay and celebrate with the two of you, but I have to put fires out for another client," Alan says. Christopher and I bid him good-bye, and then Alan heads toward the nearest crossing.
Taking my hand, Christopher pulls me away from the entrance to the courthouse, turning into a narrow side street. We stop under the gold and copper streaked crown of a massive tree. A strong gust of wind blows, ruffling my hair.
"Thank you so much for everything you've done." I raise my hand to shove my hair out of my face. Christopher reaches for me too, and our hands collide briefly. With surprise, I realize we're both a little nervous.
"It was the least I could do," he says.
"You went above and beyond. Thank you. I'm sorry I didn't call, I was just so wrapped up in preparing for the trial."
“I was too. I’m sorry for the outburst at the hospital. You know that’s not who I am."
“I know. I was just so scared.”
“Me too. I haven’t stopped being scared for three days straight. The thought of the kids being taken away from you, of losing all of you….”
His voice is pure silk, and I wish I could drape myself in it. God, I missed his voice and his laughter. I just missed him terribly.
"I missed you."
"How much?" The corners of his mouth lift in a smile. "I'm warning you. I won't accept anything less than ‘a lot.’ Just to tip the scale in favor of ‘a lot,’ do you want to hear my statement? I heard you ask Alan about it."
"You have the statement with you?"
He tips one forefinger against his temple. "It's all here. Prepare to be blown away."
"Let's hear it." I fight to keep a straight expression, but utterly fail. My face cracks into a smile before Christopher opens his mouth.
"To whom it may concern, I met Victoria Hensley when looking for a decorator. From the first moment, she made an impression on me as a consummate professional. As I began to know her on a personal level, I discovered she was a sweet and nurturing person, determined to do right by Lucas, Chloe, and Sienna. I have fallen in love with Victoria and come to care very much for her siblings. When Chloe and I were in the car accident, my first instinct was to make sure she was unharmed. The outburst at the hospital in front of Hervis Jackson was unusual for me. Anyone who knows me can attest that I am a calm person. In that moment, I was overcome by fear that Victoria might end up losing custody of the little ones. I cannot imagine my life without all of them. I want to be there to mark every inch Chloe grows on a wall, to train Lucas for soccer, and fend off any subpar suitors asking Sienna out—"
"Oh stop, you'll make me cry." My eyes sting, emotion clogging my throat. Sometime during his speech, he curled his arms around my waist. I don't want him to take them away, not ever.
"I didn't even get to the good part." Leaning in, he kisses my forehead, and I feel his lips stretch into a smile against my skin. My man is about to get romantic again. "I love you, Victoria, and I want to spend my life with you. I want to be your partner in crime for everything, from making sure no one chops off their fingers to wrestling you to bed."
"You didn't include that last part in your deposition, did you?" I ask suspiciously, resting my palms on his shoulders.
"Thought about it, then decided it could come off as inappropriate. So, let's recap. How much did you miss me?"
"I love you, and I want to grow old next to you."
He offers me the first truly Christopher-sized grin for the day. "That will do."
I make a silent promise to myself to give him a reason to grin like that every single day. This wonderful man deserves this and so much more. I shift closer to him until our chests touch, soaking in his warmth. The weather today is on the chilly side, but I don't mind as long as I have him to warm me up.
"Are you about to climb me again?" he asks longingly.
"I think I'll wait until we're in a more private space."
"You know, I thought about including your climbing activities and how much they mean to me in the statement."
"What made
you decide against it?"
"Instinct."
Another gust of wind blows, about a thousand degrees colder than the last. I swear it turns me into an icicle. Christopher isn't faring much better.
"How about going to your house and celebrating with the kids that this awful week is almost over?" he asks. His teeth are chattering.
"You've read my mind. One thing though. Never mention your intentions to ‘fend off any sub-par suitors asking Sienna out.’ It's for your own good."
"I love it when you're looking out for me." Kissing my forehead, he places an arm around my shoulders, leading us back into the main street.
***
I barely push open the door to the house when Chloe and Lucas sprint toward us. Lucas wraps his arms around my waist, squeezing me in a tight hug.
"Sienna said the judge allowed us to stay with you," he whispers, as if afraid to say it out loud.
"She did. We're all staying together."
Lucas is so happy I think he might even let me smother his cheeks with kisses in public today. Chloe jumps straight into Christopher's arms.
"I grew a full inch since Monday," she tells him with conviction. "But Lucas says it's not true. He says I’ll always be a midget."
Christopher touches the tip of her nose with his finger. "We'll measure you today."
Sienna descends the stairs, her hands on her hips, a wide smile on her face. "Let Victoria breathe, Lucas."
Lucas merely hugs me tighter. Damn, my boy is stronger than I gave him credit for.
"We're going to celebrate," I announce.
"Where?" Lucas and Chloe ask in unison.
"I'm craving cheesecake," Sienna says, and there’s a general murmur of agreement. "Oh, and we really should go buy a Christmas tree, or all the good ones will be gone."
"We'll go after the cheesecake," Christopher says.
Sienna glances from Chloe to Lucas. "Okay, let's get you two dressed up."
Lucas disentangles himself from me while Chloe asks Christopher to put her down. They have a pep in their step as they follow Sienna up the staircase.