A Day of Reckoning (Part Two)
Buddy stood outside of Courtroom 5B at the Cumberland County Courthouse as the Respondent, rather than the Attorney of Record. He was never a litigant or a defendant or anything…really… other than the lawyer representing the litigant or defendant. Not even a speeding ticket. While Family Law was not something he had ever dabbled in, he learned an awful lot of it over the past month.
Tammy Jo and Jed were suing for custody of Molly because they were her maternal grandparents. Their petition was allowed on the legal grounds that Molly was an orphan and they were her maternal grandparents. They were her “next of kin” and had the “legal standing” to claim the right to raise her. It was “in the best interest of the minor child” to be raised by her biological maternal grandparents, according to the legal documents they filed with the Court.
Buddy’s lawyer, Lisa Marion-Wisnewski, a Fayetteville Family Law attorney he found after asking his local Bar for a referral, believed that Buddy had a pretty good case for custody of Molly himself.
“Look. They have a case. They have legal standing more than you do. The key here will be ‘in the best interest of the child.’ And honestly, it will be very hard for them to convince the Judge that two older people who live several states away, who haven’t even set eyes on Molly for years before their daughter’s death, would be better for her than you would be,” Lisa explained during a phone call before the Temporary Custody Hearing. “Ordering a minor child out of state in a custody matter is not common, even if it’s to go to the child’s own legal parent. Judges do not like doing it. But this…this is tricky…and you just never know.”
“I know that all makes sense. But sometimes with the courts, blood is thicker than common sense.”
Buddy was ill with his nerves. Being in a constant state of anxiety, after weeks and weeks of abject grief, cost him close to twenty pounds, which he didn’t really need to lose in the first place. He had been fortunate enough to win his first emergency hearing for temporary custody of Molly while he fought it out with the McVicars. The Judge felt that removing Molly from her home and putting her in foster care while this battle went on would be traumatic for her, considering she had just lost her mother. Well ain’t that nice of the Court to think of traumatizing a child further… Buddy had thought to himself when he received word, temporarily relieving him of his latest nightmare.
“You have raised her since you and Julie were married. You were acting in every way as a father. You have her younger sister, who is her blood relation. Believe it or not, Gabby might be your blood-is-thicker-than-water chance here.”
Buddy held the phone tightly to his ear and knew in his rational mind that everything Lisa said was correct. He had a case. He had temporary custody right now. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law” does ring true sometimes.
And then there was the matter of what Molly would want. Molly was not little anymore. She was still very young, young enough not to be able to make a legal choice for herself, but maybe the Judge would want to know what she wanted. It was one consideration the Judge could make out of all the others.
Buddy knew what she wanted. She wanted to be with him and her sister. But regardless of how much he knew all these things, how much sense it made that she stays in her home and with her sister and stepfather – no matter the biology – there was that gnawing feeling of dread covering his entire insides.
Julie had been right about her mother Tammy Jo. She was a selfish fucking bitch.
Molly was at the county day camp, Gabby was with her babysitter, and Buddy stood, several pounds lighter, in a dark blue suit and tie. It was just a hearing, not a trial, and he knew that there would be a big push to mediation. The Court would rather families decide their own fates instead of having a judge do it for them. However, this case was unique. This case had no precedent, really…not that he could find in his research, anyway. Sure, grandparents have sued for custody before, but usually it was because the mother was a drug addict, and the father was in jail, or some nonsense like that. This was different.
Buddy had even thought of alternate responses to the custody petition. He thought of having Gabby countersuing for custody, through a Guardian ad Litem or even using himself as her Guardian. Everything he thought of, though, did not shake the reality that he was in a fight for Molly. Nothing about this would be cut and dried.
Molly would have to be evaluated by a psychologist, she had already been appointed a Guardian ad Litem to represent her interests, and she would have to live with whatever the Judge decided. No matter what happened, yet another piece of her innocence would be stolen. And this time, by her own grandparents who claimed to love her.
Click, click, click, Buddy heard the heels approaching him. He turned to see Tammy Jo, also known as The Bitch from Hell, and her trusty coward of a man sidekick, Jed. Rather than fall victim to the rage boiling just under the surface, he turned back around so he wouldn’t have to look at them. They were the only ones waiting outside of the room.
As the tension in the air began to ripen with intensity, Tammy Jo stated sharply, “Jonathan, I would like to speak with you privately.”
Buddy and Tammy Jo walked outside of the Courthouse and stood near the flagpoles, which held the American flag, the North Carolina flag, and a Confederate flag. Tammy Jo wore a dark skirt, an off-white blouse and a blue blazer. Her blond hair was styled into a sensible bun. She looked like an overweight flight attendant.
“I know you think that I’m being selfish, and God knows my daughter must’ve said a lot of cruel and untrue things about me through the years, but I love that little girl and have been kept from her for almost her entire life. I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to have your own daughter reject your kind of love, but it is a daily torment I wish on no one,” Tammy Jo started, her voice becoming stronger as she spoke.
Buddy couldn’t look at her. It made him ill to even think of what kind of a woman does this to a little girl in the name of love. “Keep telling yourself that you’re doing it for the right reasons. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” was all he could get out of himself.
Then he felt it…the terror. It came on all of a sudden, as if a guillotine appeared out of nowhere and Tammy Jo was the executioner wearing a black mask. The tension between them disappeared, and instead of a stalemate waiting for a judge to parcel it out, it was a checkmate… with Tammy Jo holding the right chess piece.
And all Buddy could do was watch as everything came crashing down upon him at once.
“I know who you really are,” she said sharply, her hard Texas twang cutting through him like a butcher knife.
Buddy’s heart held tight. He turned toward her and looked straight into her face.
“Your name is Daniel Kaspar Junior, and your mother – who is nothin’ but a murderer on the run – is Retta Bellinger.” She paused to give Buddy a moment to take that in. “Her real name sounds like a goddamn 1930s fugitive gangster! You two – a mother and son Bonnie and Clyde. A Lifetime movie just waiting to be made!” Her mouth turned into a smirk, her lipstick riding a side wave into her glory.
What is this kind of moment called? Buddy thought to himself. A day of reckoning?
This was the day he had always wondered about…would it catch up with him or not. And now, it was here. Right here, right now, in Fayetteville, North Carolina…more than twenty-six years later than that day in 1975 when their lives, as Bellingers from Killen, Texas, were over.
The Good Lie
Buddy did not know how to tell his mother that Tammy Jo and Jed had uncovered their life’s big …but good…lie. They held onto it like how people in charge of things hold onto information that everyone wants – like assholes who think they’re better than everyone else. Knowledge is power…he who holds the information has all the power…blah blah blah.
It was a good lie. Some lies just are. And what had been
going on in their small two-bedroom rental for far too long, years ago in Killeen, Texas, was a tragedy in the making every single day…until it was an actual tragedy in one way or the other.
His mother did what mothers are supposed to do: protect their children, even if it means putting their own lives in harm’s way. With few exceptions, any mother Buddy ever knew was wired to be like that. And Tammy Jo must have been the exception.
Lisa sat next to him at the conference table as they waited for the McVicars and their lawyer to come in. The mediator, a good ol’ southern gentleman with white hair and wearing a seersucker suit, sat at the head of the table. Buddy had a decision to make and he wasn’t sure what to do. The McVicars had him. They had his mother. And why they hadn’t gone to the authorities with their information was still a mystery to him.
The conversation before their hearing, where Judge Starks ordered them to mediation, was still a surreal moment in Buddy’s mind. Tammy Jo told him about the TV show that tipped her off, about the PI she had her lawyer hired to investigate his mother, about all the poking around the PI did to find out if he and his mother were indeed this missing mother-son duo from Killeen. She told him about how his stepfather Kenny had died – a wasted skeleton of a man – several years later from when they had left him covered in blood in his own home, how his mother was now responsible for his death, how if he just let them have Molly with no more fights in Court, she’d keep this information to herself and let them be the liars they are.
She told him that she’d leave Gabby alone and wouldn’t come after her but wanted visitation rights with her. She explained her reasons for wanting Molly, this piece of her daughter, her second chance to get things right…and no matter how much the regret and grief seeped through her words, no matter how empty he knew he wanted them to be, Buddy felt nothing but contempt toward her.
She lost her little girl…twice. Now she wanted to take his little girl to absolve her own guilt, shame, and misery. He knew that one thing was the root of all this.
Using his mother as her winning poker chip was just Tammy Jo’s way of ensuring she wins. Because Tammy Jo McVicar always wins…except in the ways that really mattered.
It was hard for Buddy to separate his rational self from his emotional self in this situation. He knew that most healthy human beings make their important and serious decisions somewhat rooted in both. However, he also felt like the blackmail Tammy Jo was conducting on him was at a level of gross unfairness. But, he supposed, if you have an edge over someone in Court, you’re wise to use it. He knew that for sure in his small low rent law practice. But now he was put into a position where he had to choose between his daughter or his mother. And that was not fair.
But it was mostly unfair because of the reality of the situation. Tammy Jo, while she did have an awful lot of accurate information, did not have the most relevant and correct piece of the puzzle. She did not have the truth.
The McVicars walked into the conference room, and their lawyer was not too far behind them. The mediator began talking, but Buddy’s mind was not absorbing anything he was saying. He couldn’t contain his anxiety over what was going to happen to Molly and his fears about what could happen to his mother if Tammy Jo played her Ace. He wanted Molly to be with him and Gabby, exactly where she belonged.
But he didn’t want his mother carted off, some kind of fugitive from the law…like one of those hippies from the Sixties who blew up cars in protest over the Vietnam War, who were now quiet middle aged women in suburban homes with husbands and children and PTA meetings, and then were found out and dragged in front of the cameras to at last atone for their sinful youth.
A part of Buddy, the competitor in him, wanted to call Tammy Jo on her bluff. Maybe even get her charged with extortion. But he wasn’t playing poker. He was playing with Molly and his mother, two of the most important chips in his life. There was a reason why Julie did not speak to her parents. There was a reason why they were estranged. While Buddy thought maybe Julie was too stubborn for her own good, he knew now that her reasons were valid. Tammy Jo might think she was in the right – and maybe she was – but the way she went about things was not. It was cruel and almost sadistic. And Buddy was neither of those things.
“So, where are we?” the McVicars’ lawyer asked. He was a short, stout balding man in a dark suit that looked like it needed some tailoring. Buddy never saw him before within his legal circles, but that was nothing new. The law was both a small world and a big world, depending on what’s going on and where you lived in the state.
Buddy looked across the table, steely eyed. He did everything he could to suppress his anger and not allow any of it to show on his face. Years of controlling his emotions had served him well in his simple career and perhaps saved him an awful lot of extra heartache and drama. But he did want them both to know that he is not going to cower to their pathetic demands.
“My client will agree to a school appropriate visitation schedule,” Lisa stated.
Tammy Jo looked right at Buddy, almost through his face. It surprised him that certain expressions and movements she exhibited resembled Julie’s right down to the small crease that would form in the middle of her forehead. How could his beautiful, free loving, happy wife possibly come from this bossy self-absorbed monster?
Jed kept his eyes averted – he couldn’t look at anyone. He just sat there, expected to be the dutiful husband, shelling out the checks for his wife’s orders and whims. Her mouth twitched. She leaned over and whispered something to her lawyer.
“Look. Molly has been raised by Mr. Cordova in a father and daughter relationship since she was seven years old. He has her sister, who is Molly’s biological half-sister but still her sister…unless we are going to start defining what is and what is not a proper legal sister,” Lisa continued.
“This isn’t about her sister. It’s about what is in Molly’s best interest,” the lawyer said, leaning back into his chair.
“Yes, I know that. One piece of what is in Molly’s best interest includes living with her only blood relation sister.”
“These are her grandparents. They are her blood. Mr. Cordova has absolutely no rights to her in accordance with the statutes. He is not her blood relative.”
“Well, first of all, that’s not true. A stepfather does have standing in custody cases. Secondly, Gabrielle Cordova is Molly’s blood relation. She has her own kind of standing and right to her.”
“A toddler has no standing in this case, Ms. Marion-Wisnewski. There is certainly no precedent involving a toddler having standing or having a say in custody of another minor child, so it’s probably wise to keep that out of your argument,” short baldy stated flatly. “The point here is that Molly’s maternal blood relation grandparents have standing. They certainly have standing over a non-blood relation stepfather, who couldn’t even be bothered to adopt her when it would have been appropriate to do so.”
Buddy almost jumped out of the chair. The gall of this asshole to say such a thing to him. Even if he was right. Even if Buddy wasn’t already beating himself up every single day over not having gone and taken that final step to make Molly his. If only he had done that, none of this would be happening.
“Mr. Cordova and Molly have been in a normal, loving, caring and respectful father-daughter relationship for more than four years. He helped her mother raise her after her biological father passed away. He has been her soccer coach, has attended all Parent-Teacher conferences, taken her to doctor’s appointments, and signed off on her important papers as her father,” Lisa began explaining, listing off all the ways in which Buddy served as a parent in an official capacity.
But there was more to it than that.
Being a father wasn’t just signing off on a spelling test that came home and going to listen to a teacher tell him what he already knew about Molly. Being a father is who he is within everything he did, every action he took, each thought tha
t ran through his mind. What’s for dinner? Well, tonight I think we’ll go with Chinese because the other day Molly said she was hankering for some General Tso’s. Should I mow the lawn today or wait until tomorrow? Well, I promised the girls that I’d take them to park after the workday ends, so I guess I’ll mow tomorrow. The corner of that table looks real sharp. I better put something over that in case one of the girls runs into it so they don’t get hurt.
Just a few weeks ago, Buddy was scrubbing Gabby’s orange vomit out of the carpet. And now, here he was in a gut-wrenching custody case, having to prove that driving a kid to school on time and providing a roof over her head is enough. There were other men out there, the actual blood kin, who beat their kids or disappeared and left them to poverty and single mothers trying to pay the bills, and the ones who made all kinds of money working all the time, never bothering to ask their own kids how they’re doing…and yet those are fathers.
But here he was, doing all the stuff you just do from your heart because you love your children, alongside of the obligatory responsibilities that come with parenting, and it’s being questioned, it’s being picked apart, it’s being challenged, and it might not be enough for him to keep his own kid in her home.
As he sat there listening to both lawyers going back and forth about what makes a father and what is in the best interest of a child, his stomach remained in a clenched state, to the point where it was almost unbearable. All the love he had for Molly and her mother might not matter to these people or to Judge Starks, and that was hard to imagine. Buddy thought, You’ve done everything right, and still...you’re not enough.
“May I speak?” Tammy Jo interjected at some point. “I have something to say.”
She said it loudly enough to cause everyone to stop speaking and look at her. She realized that she may have spoken too loudly for the size of this conference room, but in typical Tammy Jo style, she justified it in her mind. She had something to say, damn it. So, people needed to listen.
Good Buddy Page 24
