Last Rights

by Lynne Hugo

  “I don’t anticipate the other side will be calling witnesses, no. It’s just that full hearings are held in a courtroom like this because, well, sometimes custody hearings turn into a circus.”

  “What?” Cora said, uneasy.

  “Oh, one side calls in a neighbor who swears he saw the child’s father kicking their German shepherd, and then his lawyer calls in the mailman who swears it was actually the child’s mother doing the kicking only it wasn’t kicking, she was having sexual relations with the dog and both of them seemed to be enjoying it. You get used to stuff like that.”

  Cora muffled a small shock at the reference while a smile flickered on Lexie’s face, exactly the reaction Brenda hoped to elicit from the girl.

  “Is Alex going to say something bad about me?”

  “Nobody in their right mind has anything bad to say about you, Mrs. Laster, but we’ll see. Basically, what we’re up against is the investigator’s report. It doesn’t find him certifiably evil or permanently demented, which is pretty much what it takes to terminate parental rights.” Brenda had to try once more to prepare them. Nothing in this case had gone the way she’d planned. Even this morning, she’d stuck a fingernail through her last pair of stockings and had had to rush into her standby tan suit and stop at the drugstore for another pair on her way to the courthouse, which had left her feeling thrown together and short on time to review her preparation.

  A tall, tanned man walked into the courtroom and deposited his black leather briefcase on the table. He had an aquiline nose, gray-streaked hair with a deep wave, and groomed fingernails that had been buffed like a prize antique car. “Good day, Ms. Dunlap,” he said, and Cora thought she detected a fingerprint of sarcasm on the Ms., enough to confirm the instant dislike she’d taken to him.

  “Hello, Reardon,” Brenda answered, and Cora wondered if maybe she’d one-upped him, using his first name. “Good to see you again. Excuse me a moment.” She turned her back to him and drew Cora and Lexie toward her, to one of the tables. “That’s Alex’s lawyer. I met him last week. Naturally, he asked us to drop our opposition to Alex having custody. That’s routine.”

  “Did you tell him to get Alex to drop it?” Lexie said hotly, her small stature somehow underscored by the width and breath of her emotion.

  “Of course.”

  Just then, a uniformed man entered from a different door, scanned the room, and disappeared again.

  “The bailiff,” Brenda said. “We’re still a little early, and it doesn’t appear that Alex is here, but neither is the social service investigator.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Cora said and Brenda and Lexie followed her eyes.

  Alex was inside the room and hesitating, looking at Cora and Lexie and then at his lawyer. He wore the same dark suit and Lexie noted again it was too big. He needed somebody with a brain to take him shopping.

  Alex’s attorney gestured to him when it was clear Alex was considering approaching Lexie and Cora. They could see him waver, but Lexie made a show of turning her back directly to him and then Alex did walk to the spot Reardon was indicating with a scowl and a pointing index finger.

  At the same moment, the investigator, Heather Guard, blew into the room with a fan of folders in one hand and anxiety on her face, while the bailiff entered from the door behind the bench, and said, “All rise. The Court of Domestic Relations of Highland County is now in session, the Honorable Thomas R. Donnelly presiding. All who have business before this court come now and be heard.”

  The robed judge, a late-middle-aged man with a ledge of unruly gray eyebrow, struck the gavel.

  “Is the attorney for the plaintiff ready to proceed?”

  “We are, Your Honor.”

  “The attorney for the defense?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, and may I remind you there is a countermotion before this court?”

  “Unnecessary. The court is aware of the case. Attorney for the plaintiff, call your witness.”

  “Heather Guard, social service department.”

  “The court calls Heather Guard to the stand,” repeated the bailiff.

  The young woman carried a manila file with her and was sworn in. Her hair reminded Cora of Christine’s before Christine cut hers, it was that good and strong and thick. The memory made uncried tears quarrel to get out of where she stored them while the young woman affirmed she would tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help her God.

  “God help us all,” Cora thought. “Help us.”

  BRENDA WAS PERSISTENT, you had to give her that much. “So, then, Ms. Guard, to make sure I’m clear on what you’re saying, it’s that Lexie wishes to be with her grandmother, has what she believes to be reason to think her father was responsible for the death of her infant twin sister, and has no relationship—and has had none—with Alex O’Gara since she was six weeks old, yet you feel that placement with Mr. O’Gara is appropriate.”

  “I’ll object to that,” Reardon said.

  “Your Honor, in light of the best-interests standard, I suggest that the child’s—the young woman’s—state of mind is relevant.”

  “I’ll let that one in, but Ms. Dunlap, no additional hearsay will be entertained regarding the deceased twin.”

  Heather Guard cleared her throat and tossed her hair out of her face with the help of a hand. “Actually, what I said was that Mr. O’Gara is not inappropriate in light of the fact that he is claiming her, has the ability to provide for her, and has no record that would suggest that he would be abusive or neglectful.”

  Brenda sighed. She expected it was pretty much a done deal, and wondered how much of it was her fault. She could have advised Cora more strongly not to pursue it at all. Of course, they’d all thought he’d sign off. She should have expected the unexpected instead. Still, she had to press on. Cora had to see that she’d done all she could.

  “Would you specify to the court exactly what Alexis told you about her relationship with her grandmother?”

  “Objection. Asked and answered.”

  “Sustained.”

  “All right, then, Ms. Guard, if Mr. O’Gara were responsible for the death of Alexis’s twin, would you consider him an appropriate custodial parent?”

  “Objection. Speculative and relates to facts not in evidence.”

  “Sustained.”

  “All right, then, Ms. Guard. Would it be accurate in general to say that a trusting relationship is in the best interest of adolescents?”

  “Yes.”

  “And have you reached a conclusion as to whether Alexis O’Gara has a trusting relationship with her grandmother, Mrs. Laster?”

  “Yes. She does.”

  “And would it be accurate to say that such a relationship exists with Mr. O’Gara?”

  “No.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Guard. Your Honor, this completes my cross examination.”

  “You are dismissed, Ms. Guard. Counsel, is there additional evidence at this time?” The judge’s eyebrows were a forbidding single line across an expressionless brow.

  “I would like to move that the court allow an independent psychological evaluation of all parties by a fully credentialed and licensed professional,” Brenda said. This would be a considerable expense for Cora, she knew, but worth a shot. The social service department worker was in her early twenties; Brenda doubted that her Bachelor’s degree was framed yet. The judge couldn’t have missed that himself. The department didn’t pay enough to keep the best, the ones who studied nights for a graduate degree, got the experience to hone their education and instincts, and then left to work in the private sector. Probably Heather Guard would turn out to be one of those, but the bud hadn’t had time to open.

  “Objection, Your Honor. Another evaluation process isn’t necessary.” Alex’s attorney would have objected even if they thought a second evaluation would come out in Alex’s favor. That way if the judge did order it, Cora would be the one to pay.

  The judge wiped his mouth with his hand. “
I’m inclined to grant that motion provided the expense is borne by your client, since the case was assigned to social services already.”

  “May I have a moment to confer with my client?” Brenda asked. She tucked her hair behind her ear and adjusted her glasses, knowing what was coming and trying to figure a way to cushion it. Sometimes her clients seemed like lambs to her. Faith in the system dies hard in the hard-working and law-abiding, she’d found, and it hurt her freshly each time it happened. She often wished she could explain, if not apologize.

  “Be brief, please.”

  Brenda sat, leaning forward and reaching to Lexie so the women formed as close to a semi-circle as they could at the table. It occurred to all of them, though there was neither reason nor time to speak of it then and they didn’t—they were three women against three men.

  “We’re going to lose,” Brenda said quietly. “I can get him to order another evaluation and Alex will be forced to participate, but it will be expensive because we’d go for an expert, a psychologist. The judge might allow us to wait for the next evaluation results to come in before granting final custody to your father, Lexie. What do you want to do?”

  “Isn’t the judge going to ask me how I feel?”

  “It seems his opinion is that your feelings were included in the social service report.”

  “I want to talk for myself,” Lexie said loudly, pointedly, and stared at the judge.

  “I can ask for that,” Brenda said. “What about another evaluation, Mrs. Laster?”

  “Could it come out different?” Cora was picking at a hangnail, wanting to get hold of it and pull until it tore and bled and the smarting of air on the small wound would be something reliable.

  “I think a lot depends on how much weight an evaluator puts on Lexie’s preferences. Maybe we can get psychological testing…show that Lexie’s mental health will be impaired. The social service worker obviously felt that since Lexie doesn’t know Alex, her extreme negative feelings aren’t founded on…well, aren’t founded.”

  “I want him to let me talk,” Lexie repeated. A couple of strands of dark hair had fallen from her bun and lay against her neck emphasizing its pale fragility to Cora.

  “I’ll pay the money,” Cora said.

  Brenda stood up. “Your Honor, if it please the court, Alexis O’Gara would like to speak.”

  “Opposing counsel will have the right to cross if she’s sworn in,” the judge cautioned.

  “We’re aware, Your Honor.”

  The judge paused a moment. “I’m inclined to allow you to have your say, young lady, but you may remain in your seat and address me.”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Reardon Greevy was on his feet. It was the first time his smooth surface had the smallest ripple.

  “Overruled,” the judge said, and Brenda was suddenly optimistic. The judge wasn’t going to let Alex’s attorney have a shot at the girl. Maybe he was looking for a reason to rule for Cora.

  “Alexis, you may talk now,” he said.

  “I want to stay with my grandmother,” she started, her voice scraping over sudden nerves. She cleared her throat. “I want her to adopt me. I mean, my mother had a good reason for wanting me with her, and I know her and I want to stay with her. He killed my sister, and he left my mother and me and ran away. If you make me live with him, I’ll run away.”

  “I don’t appreciate threats, young lady. Do you know your father?”

  “No,” Lexie said, not recognizing a rhetorical question, but Brenda saw immediately where the judge was going.

  “You’ve formed an opinion without any direct basis, you see. I’d like to take your preference into consideration, in addition to your mother’s stated desire that your grandmother be your guardian, but the law is clear. In the event of the death of a custodial parent, custody reverts to the non-custodial parent barring clear evidence that he or she would be inadequate. Your father’s parental rights were never terminated.” He spoke quietly and patiently, his swath of eyebrows slightly raised to ask if she understood.

  “You don’t understand, I can’t…” Lexie started.

  “I’ve heard you, and indeed, I do understand your desires. I simply cannot base a ruling on them.”

  Cora was looking down at her folded hands, breathing as hard as if she’d already been crying over failing Christine.

  “I am ready to issue a ruling. The court finds that Alexander O’Gara is entitled to custody of Alexis Michelle O’Gara and therefore, the petition to terminate parental rights and proceed toward adoption is denied. However, in light of Mrs. Laster having been named guardian and the expressed feelings of the minor Alexis O’Gara, the question of permanent custody is deferred for six months during which time Alexis shall make her primary residence with Mr. O’Gara. Mrs. Laster shall have visitation on alternate weekends and one night weekly, according to Schedule B. A final hearing is set for November 30 at ten o’clock. Mrs. Laster, you have forty-eight hours to relinquish your granddaughter and your visitation will begin not this coming weekend, but the next. Is that clear? On the motion for an independent evaluation, the motion is granted with the understanding that the evaluator be approved by the court, the cost borne by Mrs. Laster, and that she initiate the action, which she may choose not to. Clear?”

  Cora nodded numbly, thinking he was addressing her.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Brenda said.

  “Court is adjourned.” There was a gavel bang and Brenda felt rather than actually saw Cora flinch.

  “All rise,” the bailiff intoned, and they all did except Lexie who sat stunned, fever-spots of color rising on her cheeks which were otherwise translucent as empty glass. Even her eyes looked glazed, as if she couldn’t absorb what had happened. Brenda slipped behind Cora and stood a half step behind and between Cora, who’d struggled to her feet when instructed to rise, and Lexie, who hadn’t moved at all. She put her left arm around Cora’s back and her right on Lexie’s shoulder.

  “You can sit back down,” Brenda said to Cora. “Take a minute.” Then she squatted, keeping a hand of comfort on them both while Cora sat, a reconfiguration of the earlier semi-circle.

  “Do you understand what he said?” she asked Lexie.

  “He says I have to go to Alex?” The girl had that much, but Brenda realized she probably didn’t grasp the whole ruling any more than one can take in a whole horizon at once.

  “Yes. But he’s going to reconsider in six months. I think he’s sympathetic, but doesn’t have grounds to terminate parental rights. See, that’s very hard to do. But we can get another evaluation and in six months nobody can say you don’t even know him. Then, I think, since you’ll also be over sixteen at that point, right? That the judge might not let your grandmother adopt you, but give residential custody to her and visitation to your father. With older kids, too, visitation isn’t enforced by the court.”

  “What’re you going to do? I’m not going. They can’t make me.”

  “This is so wrong,” Cora inserted.

  Brenda sighed and moved one bent leg to adjust her balance. “There’s nothing we can do. You’ve got forty-eight hours, then you’ve got to go.”

  Brenda felt someone approach and she looked behind Cora. Alex stood perhaps five feet away. “I’d like to speak to my daughter,” he said to Brenda. His voice was different from what she’d expected, deeper. Brenda couldn’t tell whether there might be a shade of apology to his tone or he was warming up to a confrontation, but Lexie shook her head violently anyway.

  “Maybe not right now,” Brenda said.

  Cora turned and looked at Alex. “Haven’t you done enough? Do you have to take this away, too?”

  “I have a right…” he began, and now he was reddening.

  “Don’t you dare talk to me about rights. Don’t you dare.” Cora was like a large, gentle animal who’d discovered her anger. “I’ll fight you until one of us is dead,” she said, her voice rocking as if her Christine were in her arms and she had one chance to save
her.

  twenty

  WHAT DID I DO WRONG? First I get a psycho-killer-draft-dodger father, then God makes my mother die and the goddamn court won’t pay any attention to her will and says I have to live with him. I felt like my mother was going to help me, and it sort of made me believe in heaven, like she could watch over me and not let bad things happen anymore, but that’s obviously not true. When I talked to her before court, I thought I heard her say, feed the birds and I didn’t do it. Would she be mad at me for not rushing out to buy birdseed and let me end up with Alexander the Goddamn Great? Grandma says there’s nothing we can do about it, I have to go. I told her I was going to run away and she said that was a bad idea because she was going to get some psychologist to talk to us all and say I should live with her, and then it would only be six months and I’d be back. Sometimes I think she doesn’t have all her tires on the road. I’m not staying there for six months. I’m not staying there for six days or six minutes either.

  Grandma says I’ll have to change schools. How is that fair? Why should I have to change schools? Why shouldn’t he have to move? My life is his fault.

  So now I got sunflower seeds at the grocery store and put some in each feeder, but Grandma said they’re supposed to get different kinds. I don’t see why it has to be so complicated. I don’t even know why I did it. Grandma is doing all my laundry and folding my clothes. I told her to quit it, I want my clothes to stay here, but she said I have to take enough.

  Last night I stayed in my Mom’s room a long time. I put everything out and lit the candle and tried to pray to Mom. Maybe she couldn’t hear me before. Or maybe she was mad because I didn’t feed her birds, or maybe there’s not any such thing as heaven, or God, either. I just thought I could try again. I told her about everything except cheating on my Spanish test, which didn’t count because I failed it anyway. I asked her to ask God to strike Alex with lightning or maybe let a big truck run over him. I really don’t care how he dies, unless if I get a choice, then I’d make it really slow and painful. But really, I just want him to die and leave me alone.