Letting Go (Healing Hearts)

by Michelle Sutton

  Everyone stood. Judge Taraman entered the courtroom and sat.

  “You may be seated.”

  Diane glanced over at Dave, who closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She touched his arm in reassurance. He responded with a weak smile.

  “The court convenes this morning over the matter of physical custody of Little J Dodd. It is the court’s understanding that a mutually satisfactory arrangement could not be reached, thus an evidentiary hearing is required to weigh the facts of the case to determine the ward’s future placement.”

  “Correct, Your Honor,” answered the State’s attorney, Steve Chapman.

  “Is the State ready to proceed in this matter?”

  “We are, Your Honor.”

  “For the record, please state your name and role in relation to this hearing, starting on my right.”

  After everyone made introductions for the court record, the judge said, “Bring in your first witness.”

  “The State calls Mrs. Hortencia Vela to the witness stand.”

  The caseworker grunted, puffed, and wheezed on her way to the witness chair. She stood next to the bailiff, who held up his hand.

  “Raise your right hand. Do you swear that the testimony you are about to share is the truth?”

  “I do,” responded Mrs. Vela.

  “You may be seated.”

  She eased into the witness chair with a grunt.

  “You may proceed,” said the judge.

  The State’s attorney nodded. “Thank you, Your Honor. Mrs. Vela, will you please state your full name, your job experience, and your education for the record?”

  “My name is Hortencia Vela, and I work for Child Protective Services in Canyon County, for the State of Idaho. I’ve been a social worker for five years.”

  “How long have you been working with abused children?”

  “Eighteen months.”

  “Would you say that you have received sufficient training, education, and practical experience to be able to make appropriate decisions in regards to case planning?”

  “Yes, I would. I received my master’s degree in social work from Idaho State University.”

  Numerous other questions followed. Finally the State’s attorney said, “So, Mrs. Vela, why do you believe it’s necessary for the child to be removed from his current foster-adopt home?”

  Mrs. Vela threw Dave a stern look. “Mr. Passel has been disagreeable to everything. He’s been so uncooperative he even sabotaged visits between the child and his birth mother, making it impossible for her to develop any kind of relationship with her son.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Vela. I have nothing further, Your Honor.”

  Judge Taraman turned to Joleen. “You may cross examine the witness.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Joleen smiled at Dave, then approached the witness stand.

  Diane’s heart sank at the warmth Dave conveyed to Joleen through his eyes. It might just be his way of begging Joleen for help, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he still had feelings for her.

  “Mrs. Vela, you said Mr. Passel has been uncooperative with you, correct?”

  “Yes, he—”

  “Just answer the question with a yes or no. Please don’t interrupt.”

  Mrs. Vela nodded, her mouth agape at the unexpected correction.

  “Isn’t it true that Mr. Passel notified you every time his foster son was sick in advance, and when you arrived you saw the evidence of the child’s illness?”

  “Well, uh . . . yes, I suppose I did.”

  “Just answer the question with a yes or no, ma’am.” Joleen twirled her pen between her thumb and index finger. “Now that you’ve established that Mr. Passel has in fact cooperated with you, tell me, to your knowledge has Mr. Passel said anything in front of his foster son to discourage visits? Or has he said anything against you?”

  Mrs. Vela’s eyes widened and she scowled. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Just answer the question with a yes or no, ma’am.” Joleen rolled her eyes and expelled an exasperated sigh. “You are capable of following directions, correct?”

  Mrs. Vela appeared to shrink down in her seat.

  Joleen offered Dave a sly smile. The judge appeared to be doodling on his notepad and didn’t see their exchange.

  “Now, isn’t it true that Mr. Passel attempted to help his foster son visit his birth mother by going along and encouraging the child to interact with her?”

  “Uh . . . yes,” Mrs. Vela said hoarsely.

  Leanne jumped up and swore, yelling at Joleen while pointing at Dave. “Tell them how Jack calls that man his daddy.” Leanne glared. “He is not my son’s father.”

  The judge hit the gavel on his desk. “Young lady, I will not tolerate outbursts like that in my courtroom again. Do you understand?”

  Leanne’s attorney whispered in her ear. She nodded, scowling.

  “If you interrupt again, I will cite you for it.”

  “She understands, Your Honor.” Her attorney, Mr. Hixon, prodded her to sit.

  Leanne pouted and with obvious reluctance mumbled, “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Good.” Judge Taraman smiled at Joleen. “You may proceed.”

  “Mrs. Vela, would you answer the question again? I didn’t hear your answer.”

  “What was the question?”

  The court report pulled the tape from the ticker and read in a monotone voice, “Isn’t it true that Mr. Passel attempted to help his foster son visit his birth mother by going along and encouraging the child to interact with her?”

  Joleen stared at Mrs. Vela. “Did you understand the question?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your answer?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Good.” Joleen angled her head and smiled at Dave briefly.

  Diane caught a glimpse of his warm response. Her stomach clenched. Joleen had impressed Dave with her questioning. She vowed that when her turn came Dave would look at her with such fondness.

  Joleen approached the bench. “Well, Mrs. Vela, since the child’s mother brought the subject of the child’s father up, let’s discuss that, shall we?”

  Diane’s mind whirred. Joleen had been handed a gift when the birth mother had her outburst, and she obviously planned to take full advantage of the disclosure. Diane scribbled furiously on her pad.

  Joleen cocked her head in a condescending manner. “Are you aware of the reason the child was placed with Mr. Passel in the first place?”

  Diane wrote on her notepad “Abandonment.” She underlined the word twice.

  The social worker straightened in her chair, pushing her glasses into place with her finger, and leaned forward. “Yes, because he’s a certified adoptive home.”

  Joleen tapped her lip with her pen. “Not the answer I was expecting, but I’ll go with it. What does that mean if you’re a certified adoptive home?”

  “Well, the intention is for a child to be placed in a home where he could be adopted in the event he became legally free for adoption.”

  “So doesn’t it make sense that the child would call his foster father Daddy?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose it does.” Mrs. Vela glanced over at Leanne.

  “Please look at me when I’m questioning you, Mrs. Vela, not at her.”

  Mrs. Vela blanched and shrank back in her chair. Joleen shot Dave a cocky grin.

  Dave leaned over and whispered to Diane, “Isn’t she awesome! She’s tearing Mrs. Vela to shreds.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Vela. Now tell me, exactly how is the child calling his foster father Daddy a problem?”

  Mrs. Vela frowned. “Well, in my opinion the boy should not call Mr. Passel Daddy until after the adoption is final.”

  Joleen chuckled. “Really? What would you suggest a child who’s not yet three years old call his foster father?”

  “Maybe Mr. Dave or Mr. Passel.”

  Diane scribbled on her notepad “Ask if she’s a parent herself.”

  Joleen must
have read Diane’s mind. “Do you have children of your own, Mrs. Vela?”

  The State’s attorney cut in, “Objection, Your Honor. Her status as a parent is not relevant to the matter at hand.”

  The judge lifted his chin, which rested on his hand as if he was bored. “Overruled. I’d like to hear the answer. You may answer the question, Mrs. Vela.”

  Joey’s case manager hesitated, then said, “No, I don’t have any children.”

  “So you wouldn’t understand why a child his age needs a parental figure then, would you?” Joleen glanced at Dave, who smiled back.

  Diane felt her chest tighten and her defenses rise.

  Mrs. Vela sighed. “Children need a parental figure. But I don’t believe they should be calling their foster parent Daddy when they aren’t legally adopted yet.”

  Joleen flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and leaned toward the witness. “Don’t you think it’s unreasonable to expect a very young child to call his adult caretaker anything other than Mommy or Daddy?”

  “No. I don’t.” Mrs. Vela straightened in her seat, her chin raised in defiance. “If the child addressed his caretaker as he would a legal parent, and then the child has to move, he would be more damaged.”

  Joleen turned to frown at the attorney for the State, and faced the witness again. “So, what you’re really saying is that you don’t believe a child should bond with their foster parent. Is that true, Mrs. Vela?”

  The caseworker’s eyes widened and she glanced over at the State’s attorney, who cringed and rubbed his forehead. “Look at me, Mrs. Vela,” Joleen requested firmly, “I’m the one asking the questions here.”

  Mrs. Vela’s face reddened. Thinking the woman might cry, Diane whispered a quick prayer that she could hold it together until the trial was over.

  Mrs. Vela’s voice wavered. “Yes, because if children bond to their foster parents, then they will be more hurt when they have to leave.”

  “And just where did you get your training? State policy says in section 5-103.2 rule 121 that young children should develop bonds to the adults in their lives. A CPS case manager should encourage bonding because it’s very important to the child’s overall development, regardless of the adult’s role. Wasn’t that directive taught in your core training?”

  “Yes, but I don’t necessarily agree with the rationale.”

  Joleen raised her hands in the air. “There you have it. I have no further questions.”

  Judge Taraman glanced over at Diane and nodded. “Ms. Simmons, you may proceed.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  Diane inhaled deeply and rose from her chair. She walked away from the judge, pacing for a few moments with her head down.

  Think, think. Now is not the time to get nervous.

  Diane turned, raised her head, and approached the witness stand. Placing her hands at the end of the table near the microphone, she leaned forward.

  “Mrs. Vela, why do you feel so strongly about this particular case? What’s in it for you?”

  Mrs. Vela looked at Diane and blinked as if puzzled by the question. She looked at the judge, who nodded for her to answer the question.

  “I . . . I just want to help children.”

  “You want to help children how, Mrs. Vela? By tearing them away from the only loving parent they know to meet your own personal agenda?”

  Mrs. Vela frowned. “I want to keep them safe.”

  “You want to keep them safe? How is sending a young child to visit a mother he doesn’t know in a drug-infested neighborhood without the security of his foster father actually helping a child? Tell me, how is that keeping him safe?”

  “Objection, Your Honor.”

  Steve Chapman rose from his chair and pointed at Diane. “The attorney for the foster father is questioning the State’s case plan. The State is required by law to attempt reunification whenever possible.”

  “Overruled. You may answer the question.”

  Diane couldn’t contain her grin. Thank you, God.

  Mrs. Vela scowled. “I don’t know how to answer.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t answer then.” Diane waved her hand, making sure everyone in the courtroom saw the dismissal.

  There has to be more to this. There has to be a reason she cares so much about the birth mother’s success.

  When Mrs. Vela smiled nervously at Leanne, the answer struck Diane. “Isn’t it true that you have a very personal reason for wanting this birth mother to get her child back?”

  Mrs. Vela’s eyes grew wide and she started to wheeze. “I’m not sure what you’re asking—what you mean.”

  “Isn’t it true that you placed your own child for adoption, which is why you’re working so hard on reunification with this unacceptable birth parent? Isn’t your extreme effort motivated by your own personal loss?”

  Mrs. Vela’s eyes widened further, and her wheezing grew in volume as she began to hyperventilate. Judge Taraman raised his hand.

  “We’ll take a short break. See that this witness gets medical attention. This session is adjourned for fifteen minutes and will resume at precisely ten o’clock.” He rapped his gavel.

  The bailiff said, “All rise.”

  Everyone stood as the judge left the room. Leanne’s attorney touched her arm and hustled her out of the courtroom.

  Mrs. Vela leaned forward in her chair, gasping for air. Her lips turned a strange shade of blue. She frantically patted her pockets, then began to cry.

  “Call an ambulance,” Diane said to the baliff, then turned to Dave. “I suspect she’s having an asthma attack. She must not have her inhaler with her.”

  Help arrived just as security finished calling Mrs. Vela’s boss to report that she had collapsed in the courtroom and that she was being transported to the nearby hospital. All attorneys met and agreed to have the bailiff ask the judge what he wanted to do now that their initial witness wouldn’t be available to finish her testimony.

  Dave touched her arm. “I’ll be right back. I want to ask Joleen something.” He took a seat next to Joleen and leaned in so close that Diane’s hackles went up.

  The bailiff reentered the courtroom and announced that the judge had dismissed everyone and requested that they return the following day for a continuance.

  Now the case could drag out even longer because they had no guarantee that Mrs. Vela would be better by tomorrow or well enough to testify anytime soon. Diane groaned and rubbed her forehead. Now she’d have to contact Mrs. Vela’s boss to ask who might replace her for the rest of the week. If only she had prayed about a specific strategy before attacking the witness.

  Joleen’s giggling grated on her nerves. Diane tapped Dave’s arm.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Joleen smiled up at her. “Great use of intimidation, Diane. I’m impressed.”

  Dave rose and pulled her toward him with his hand on the small of her back. “She’s right. You were great, Di. You really put Mrs. Vela out of commission.”

  Diane glared at him. His grin dissolved.

  “What? Why are you upset?”

  “Because this isn’t great. It ties things up. When I hit her with those questions, I didn’t think she’d get sick. I didn’t even know if they were true at first. It was a hunch. Now I’ll have to restructure my attack.”

  He stared at her with a blank expression. “Oh.”

  “That’s more work for me and more money on your tab. Not so good for you.”

  An awestruck gleam came into his eyes. “You really are good.”

  Joleen broke in. “We need to talk.”

  Dave smiled. “You were great, too, Joleen.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I plenty of effective strategies I haven’t used yet.” Glancing over at Diane, Joleen guided him into the hallway and away from the crowd.

  Seething, Diane decided to leave before she said something she’d regret. Was this what you felt like, Mother, when Daddy gave me the attention you craved?

&n
bsp; She took one last look at Joleen as Dave roared with laughter over something she’d said. Snatching up her purse and briefcase, she left the courtroom and headed toward her car. Suddenly she remembered Dave wouldn’t have a ride home if she left, plus he would need Joey’s car seat.

  She was sorely tempted to let him find his own way home, though she cringed at the thought that Joleen might volunteer to be his chauffeur. Her stomach churned, but she pressed on toward her car again, ignoring the voice of reason. Dave hadn’t even noticed that she had walked out, so why should she care how he fared?

  “Diane, wait!” The sound of his footsteps descending the courthouse steps didn’t deter her. She picked up her pace.

  “Diane! Please—”

  She ignored him, muttering as she continued marching toward her car. “Stupid, stupid me. No way am I admitting I care. I won’t.”

  * * *

  Dave caught up with Diane and hopped into the passenger seat. He slammed the door shut and waited until she got in.

  “What’s going on? I know you heard me calling you. What’s wrong now?”

  She shot him a glare. “You have no idea, do you?”

  “If I knew, you think I’d be asking?” he snapped back. “What’s with the attitude?”

  She leaned toward him and jabbed his chest with her finger. “What do you think?”

  He pulled away from her. “I haven’t a clue.”

  “Maybe I’m just not feeling very Christian today. What’s up with you and Joleen? Talk about not knowing what to think. Ha! You’re not acting like the Dave I know at all.”

  For a moment Dave stared at her. Then he closed the space between them and pressed his lips against hers.

  She stiffened and didn’t kiss him back. Instead, she shoved him away from her.

  Wiping her mouth, she huffed, “Don’t mock me. This isn’t funny. I’m serious.” Her eyes welled with tears.

  His arms dropped to his sides. She didn’t want him to kiss her. Maybe she didn’t want him.

  “I didn’t think what you said was funny.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He leaned close so he could capture her gaze and softened his voice. “What’s going on? This isn’t like you. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, honest.”

  Her chin quivered and several tears slid down her face. He moved to brush them away but she pulled away from him.