“State your name and occupation for the record please.”
“Cisco Ramon, and I’m a psychiatrist.” The man enunciated clearly as he began to rattle off his rather impressive list of degrees, and it was clear the Windsors had him in their back pocket.
He reeked of bribery.
“Mr. Ramon, what did you do for the Windsors?” Leslie asked as she circled the court room, taking the time to make eye contact with each of the jury members.
“I treated their daughter, Annabelle,” he clarified. “She was a troubled young woman, and her parents were concerned, so they brought her to me for help.”
“And isn’t it true that you recommended she come see you at least once a week because you felt like she needed it?”
Dr. Ramon took off his glasses, polished them and then answered. “Yes, it was my impression that she was slightly paranoid and a bit narcissistic.”
“And this is based on your expert opinion?”
“Yes, it is,” he confirmed.
“Dr. Ramon, is it also true that you had to break doctor-patient confidentiality and involve her parents because you were concerned about her mental state?” Leslie urged, a smirk gracing her features.
“That’s right, yes,” Dr. Ramon said, gravely dropping the corners of his mouth into a grimace. “It’s a last resort, but I felt I had no other choice.”
“Isn’t it also true that someone who had a history of mental illness shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions regarding her unborn child’s future?”
“Objection, argumentative.” Emmett was practically seething as he slammed his hands on the desk. “Your honor, she’s practically pushing the witness to testify the way she wants him to.”
“Withdrawn, no further questions” Leslie retracted smoothly. But it was too late, the damage was already done. The jury already looked skeptical.
“Time for the smoking gun?” I asked, my leg shaking impatiently.
Emmett gave me a small imperceptible nod, as the stood to take his turn with the witness.
“Dr. Ramon, is it true that Ms. Windsor complained to you about the situation at her household?”
Dr. Ramon hesitated before he nodded. “Yes, she did, but it’s not uncommon with patients like her.”
“Is it also true that she complained to you about her older brother in particular?” Emmett continued as if he hadn’t heard Dr. Ramon.
Dr. Ramon shifted uncomfortably in his seat as a bead of sweat formed on his forehead. “Yes, she did, but that’s normal. Siblings complain about each other.”
Emmett leaned forward as if he was having a friendly chat as he gestured towards the jury. “Would you mind telling the jury what it was that she said?”
Dr. Ramon swallowed. “She said that her brother was abusive.”
Emmett clasped his hands in front of him, a serious expression on his face. “I see, and did you not take her accusations seriously?”
“I did,” Dr. Ramon protested, as he took out a handkerchief and began to wipe his brow. “Of course, I did. I informed her parents as soon as I was informed.”
“And, to your knowledge, what did her parents do?”
Dr. Ramon glanced at Leslie like a deer caught in the headlights, and I knew we had him.
He risked losing his medical license if he lied, especially if we had proof - which we did.
“They said they would take care of it,” Dr. Ramon said finally, as he avoided looking at the Windsors.
“And, in your expert opinion, do you think they did?” Emmett pressed.
“They pulled her out of therapy,” Dr. Ramon revealed. “Told me my services were no longer needed.”
The jury broke out in outraged gasps as they whispered amongst themselves. The judge began to bang her gavel to get them to quiet down.
“Dr. Ramon, did you follow up with Annabelle after that?”
Dr. Ramon stayed quiet, so Emmett continued. “Your honor, I’d like to evidence in to the record. This is a recording of Annabelle saying what her brother did, and this is another one where Dr. Ramon reveals the information to her parents.”
Dr. Ramon’s face turned red, and he looked like he was about to pass out.
“No further questions, your honor.”
“Court is adjourned,” Judge Lewis called out. “We’ll reconvene in 3 hours.”
“How did you know about the tape?” Lyla asked, in awe.
“His secretary is an old friend of mine, and she said he kept track of his patients. Plus, she owed me one.” Emmett shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“Emmett, I could kiss you right now,” Lyla declared.
“Hey,” I said. “What about me?”
“I’ll kiss you later.”
We chuckled quietly as we filed back into the court room, and Lyla slipped her hands into mine and squeezed. With heavy hearts, we stood up and waited for the jury to decide.
* * *
“Has the jury decided?” The judge asked, as we collectively held our breath.
“In the case of the Windsor versus Baker, we find the Windsors to be unfit parents due to their negligence in protecting their daughter from their son. The state awards custody to Lyla and Clay Baker.”
Emmett let out a hoot, and gave me a big hug before he released me. Lyla threw her arms around me, and we stayed like that until we both spotted Emily being brought into the courtroom with a huge smile on her face.
19
Lyla
5 years later
“Mrs. Baker, Mrs. Baker,” a tiny voice called out as she tugged on my skirt. A little girl about 4 years old gazed up at me with big brown eyes, and the most confused smile.
“Yes, Kelly? What is it?” I crouched down so that I was at her eye level, and I gave her my most encouraging smile.
“Leroy said girls are stupid,” she complained as her eyes welled up with tears and her lower lip trembled.
“Oh, honey, that’s not true.” I placed my hand upon her shoulder and squeezed. I stood up, and she slipped her hand in mine. My eyes danced around the classroom until they landed on Leroy, a rather hyperactive little boy with spiky black hair and hazel colored eyes. He was one of my more difficult students when he wanted to be, but on his good days, he made me forget all about the trouble he could cause.
“Leroy, can you come to the front of the classroom, please?” I asked, in a stern voice. Leroy looked up, a guilty expression on his face as he gave Kelly a withering look. She blinked solemnly as she hid behind my skirt.
Leroy shuffled forward and stood in front of me, shoving his hands in his pockets as he lowered his head in shame.
“Did you tell Kelly that girls are stupid?” I questioned.
“Yes,” he admitted as he shifted from one foot to the other.
“Is that a nice thing to say?” I pressed, not unkindly.
“No,” he admitted begrudgingly, as he suffered a sigh.
Kids could be so melodramatic sometimes, and I had to suppress a grin at his reluctance to admit that he was in the wrong.
“What do we say?” I prompted.
“Sorry,” he said churlishly, as he lifted his head up and gave Kelly a look that let her know exactly what he thought. I nudged Kelly forward, so she wasn’t cowering behind my skirt.
“Now, off you two go.” I shooed them both away as I straightened my back and dusted off my skirt. “It’s time to start everyone, so can we all clean up and quickly take our seats?”
* * *
I began to count backwards as the kids sang the clean-up song, putting away their toys as efficiently as possible for a preschool/pre-K class. As soon as they were finished, they pulled out their chairs and sat down, their hands clasped in front of them eagerly.
“So, today we are going to learn about the letter L.” I drew the letter on the board with a bit of flourish, and a smiley face which earned some giggles from the kids.
“L,” I pronounced as I waited for them to repeat after me. I did this once or twice till I was sur
e they all knew how to say it.
“Now, who can tell me something that starts with the letter L?”
A little’s girls hand shot up. Her blue eyes sparkled eagerly, her mouth pressed into a thin and serious line with her pig tails hanging down her side.
“Yes, Emily?” I called out.
“Mommy, doesn’t your name start with an L?” she asked as some of her classmates snickered at the prospect.
I gave them all a pointed look until they quieted down. Emily seemed unaware of what she’d done as she focused on me, waiting to see if she got the answer right.
Before I could respond, another student raised his hand. A young boy with dark eyes and blonde hair. He ran his hands over his shirt importantly and smiled smugly.
“Yes, Edison?” I crossed my arms over my chest as I smiled indulgently.
“Emily doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Obviously, mommy’s name is Mommy, and it starts with an M,” he scoffed as he leaned back in his chair and gave his sister a triumphant look.
“Nuh uh, only we call her mommy,” Emily insisted, her chin jutting out stubbornly.
“Nuh uh,” Edison argued.
“Uh huh,” Emily countered.
“Children, enough,” I said, my voice ringing out as everyone turned their attention back to the front of the class. “A mommy can have two names. Mommy is what her kids call her, and then there’s her real name.”
“And is your real name Lyla?” Emily echoed.
“Yes, it is, Emily,” I confirmed as I wrote my name down on the board and spelled it out loud. The class repeated after me, and when I turned back around, Emily was sticking her tongue out at Edison, whose face had turned pink in embarrassment.
He hated being one upped by his sister, and she never missed an opportunity to gloat. I was not going to hear the end of it when I got back home.
“Can you all quietly get up, push in your chairs and sit on the carpet? On the edges only please,” I instructed as I placed the chalk down and clapped my hands together.
The kids got up from their round tables, pushed in their chairs and went and sat on the edges of the rug. It was a rather colorful one with butterflies, caterpillars and underwater animals, and I could see some of the kids looking morosely at their favorite animals as they twitched with the desire to disobey.
Eventually, they shuffled over with heavy hearts and plopped onto the edges as I instructed. I pulled up a chair and placed it squarely in the middle in front of a small board I had set up.
“Now, who can tell me words that start with the letter ‘L’?”
I looked around at my students, most of whom avoided my gaze. Two of them were my own kids, and in the interest of not being biased, I tried not to call on them often.
I decided to start from the left and go around the circle. “Miranda, what starts with the letter ‘L’?”
Miranda was a petite blonde with brown eyes and the tendency to daydream. She pursed her lips as she thought for a minute. “Lion.”
“Excellent,” I praised. I wrote down the word and drew a big lion with large exaggerated teeth, which made some of the kids laugh.
“Connor, what starts with the letter ‘L’?” I prompted.
“Lemon,” he said proudly, as his blue eyes shone.
“That’s right.” I nodded as I spelled out and wrote the word lemon.
“Amanda, what starts with the letter ‘L?”
Amanda went quiet, then she opened her mouth. “Miss, do you know that my mommy once went to the airport with my daddy, but the awopwane already left without them, and she was vewy upset, so she and daddy came back but this was before I was a baby?”
Some of the other students gave each other confused looks as they waited for me to respond.
This tended to happen a lot.
More often than not, I wanted to laugh at the randomness of their stories, but I had to bite down on my lip hard because I knew that if I laughed, it would encourage them.
Today, I let out a sigh and ran my hands through my hair.
“Thank you for the story, Amanda, but I asked what starts with the letter ‘L’. It’s not story time yet.”
“My mommy and Daddy rode an awopwane many times before,” Brad bragged from the other side of the carpet as all the kids turned their attention to him, expressions of pure awe and adoration on their faces.
Amanda grumbled under her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest.
I snapped my fingers to get their attention, and they immediately stopped chattering and focused.
“Brad, I said this isn’t story time. Use your listening ears, okay?” I reminded him, firmly.
“Leg,” Brad responded, automatically.
Brad was one of the students who had an attitude problem regardless of the day of the week. He was a little too smug for my taste, but I couldn’t blame him. I’d met his parents, and if they weren’t careful, their parenting techniques were going to come back and bite them in the ass when he was a teenager.
Parents needed to be more careful about what they taught their kids, otherwise they’d have someone entitled on their hands.
“Good job, Brad,” I acknowledged as I spelled out and drew a leg.
“Ladybug,” called out Diana when it was her turn.
“Leaf,” called out Henry right after.
“Mommy, can Kelly come over for a playdate?” Emily asked as she skipped ahead of me. Edison walked quietly beside me, his face pensive.
He really was a serious kindergartener, and Clay and I often worried what would happen when he was older. Hopefully, he’d mellow out with age.
I liked to tease Clay that it came from his side of the family, but he always bristled in mock outrage as he adamantly shook his head and insisted that it was my side of the family.
He was 18 months younger than Emily, but I sometimes forgot that because of how mature and wise he was. He was a miniature version of his Dad, except for the blonde hair, which was entirely mine.
“I’ll have to ask Kelly’s parents, sweetheart,” I responded.
“Can you ask them today?” Emily asked hopefully, as she twirled around.
“I’ll call them today,” I promised.
“Yay,” Emily said as she began to skip faster.
“Emily stop skipping so fast,” I admonished as I lengthened my strides in an effort to keep up. Walking home from the kindergarten was generally safe, but still.
You can never be too careful. The sun was shining down, and there were a lot of people who stopped us to say hi. Once we got home, I hung up the coats, and the kids ran off to their rooms to wash up and finish their homework.
I thanked the baby sitter and set out to make dinner.
“Mommy, when is Daddy going to be home?” Edison called out as he came into the kitchen, his hair sticking out in tufts.
“He should be home in an hour,” I said as I tied an apron around my waist and affectionally ruffled Edison’s hair.
“I want to tell him that I did well in class today,” Emily pronounced as she made faces at her brother.
“I did well too,” Edison said, defensively.
“Why don’t you two go check on your sister?” I suggested as I gathered my hair into a ponytail and took out the ingredients for a salad.
Once I had them set out, I took out a packet of pasta and some chicken.
“She’s asleep,” They both chorused.
“Are you two done with your homework?” I questioned.
“Yes.”
“Good, you can help me make dinner and then watch some tv, okay?”
They both helped by passing me stuff from the refrigerator and tasting the. I let it simmer then sent them both in the direction of the tv.
Suddenly, the door slams shut, and I hear the pounding of feet as they scream out ‘Daddy!’
I emerge from the kitchen to find Edison hanging onto Clay’s leg, and Emily swinging off his neck.
“How was your day, kiddos?” he boomed
as he hung up his coat and shuffled forward like a zombie.
“We learned about the letter ‘L’ today,” Emily said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, and Mommy’s name has an L in it,” Edison informed him, as if it was a state secret.
“You don’t say.” Clay scratched his chin as he gave me a soft look. He stopped and planted a kiss on my lips just as I heard the baby scream.
“There, there, Annabelle,” I cooed as I picked her up. She began to settle as she heard the commotion going on around her.
“Dad, Emily was being naughty today. She should be punished,” Edison declared.
“We’ll see, son.” Clay bent over and whispered in my ear. “I think you’ve been naughty too, and should definitely be punished.”
I laughed as I swatted his hand away and danced out of his grasp.
“I’m not getting pregnant again,” I insisted under my breath as I gave him a stern look. He began to chase the kids until they kicked him out of the living room to watch tv. I set Annabelle down in the playpen in the living room as Clay and I set the table together.
“It’s not my fault my wife is incredibly sexy,” He murmured as he wrapped his arms around my waist and placed a kiss on the back of my neck.
I shuddered as I leaned into him. “You say that every time.”
“I can’t help it if it’s true.” He nipped my neck playfully as his hands came up, and he began to knead my shoulders.
I made a low humming noise in the back of my throat as my hands came up to tangle themselves in his hair.
“The kids are in the next room,” I reminded him as his hands began to delve lower.
Clay chuckled. “You have a dirty mind, Lyla.”
“Hey, you’re the one who was doing that.” I spun around and waved the spatula in his face.
“You have a dirty mind too because you understood what I meant,” he teased, and he ducked as I threw a tomato at him.
He caught it in his hands and placed it on the counter. I shrieked as he spun me around, dipped me backwards then brought me back up for an earth-shattering kiss.
A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1 Page 12
