Judge Franklin shook her head, lips pursed. “Then, it seems, you all went and made a mess of things.”
Anna glanced over at me, fear in her expression. I squeezed her hand.
Judge Franklin held up the two baby-blue envelopes containing letters Sophie had left behind—one for Silas and one for Lemon. “Thank you for allowing me to read what Sophie wrote to you.” She handed them to the bailiff to return. He walked them over to Silas and Lemon. Lemon tucked them into a leather purse by her feet.
The judge went on. “It’s clear Miss Sophie was quite the matchmaker.” She shook her head, unimpressed. “But this is not The Bachelor or The Newlywed Game or Farmer Wants a Wife, et cetera. We are talking about a child’s life. And frankly,” she cocked her head at my brother and his new wife, “I’m appalled that you couldn’t make it three months, but now you’ve run off and eloped? I’m also appalled that Sophie didn’t have a firm agreement in place in case the ninety-day experiment fell through.”
I stiffened. This was taking a turn that I wasn’t comfortable with. “Your honor,” I started.
She held up her hand. “In a minute, Mr. Dupree.” She leaned forward, her hands folded together, staring down Si and Lemon. “I am very sorry about the miscarriage. That is heartbreaking.”
Huh?
Mom and Dad looked bewildered as well.
Not Anna, though. Her face crumpled a bit and her hand went to her heart. Silas looked over at Lemon with intense compassion as she nodded, eyes filling with tears. She’d lost a baby? When? And what did it have to do with today?
Back to business, Judge Franklin straightened in her chair. “But I’m not convinced the two of you have what it takes to raise this girl. If you couldn’t make it three months, what’re you going to do if she comes home drunk or drops out of school or has mental health challenges, which is highly likelyfor a child who’s lost their mother?” My mouth parted. Yes, Anna had been through things, but I couldn’t picture her in any of those scenarios. Then again, I reminded myself that Judge Franklin saw that kind of thing on the daily.
Before I could counter, the judge held that hand up again. “I’ve talked with the Custody Evaluator and we’ve discussed who we think Anna should live with. But I’d like to hear from the grandparents before I offer my final decision.”
Final decision? I hadn’t given a closing statement yet.It’s not a criminal case, idiot.Still, the outcome felt just as important as any case I’d been on. Again, Anna looked over at me, her brown eyes the size of quarters.
“Let’s see how it goes,” I whispered.
Dad stood, helping Mom up. They walked, unitedly, to the podium.
“Your honor,” Dad started into the microphone. “I just want to say to my family,” he looked back, giving us each a second of eye contact, “that we all want the same thing here. We want what’s best for Anna. We all love her. She knows that.”
The four of us still sitting nodded.
Dad scratched his cheek, looking back at the judge. “Jenny and I decided last night, we’re not going to fight about this. Whatever you decide, we’ll honor, of course. We just hope you’ll listen to Anna.”
I nodded, kind of surprised. I’d expected them to really go for it, especially with Mom’s behavior toward Lemon over the past few months.
Mom leaned forward to take her turn. “But we also hope you know that we are happy to raise Anna if that’s your decision. That said, we know that Silas and Lemon will do an excellent job. They love Anna so much. You only need to be around them for a few minutes to see that.”
My head fell back, surprised.
“Oh, Granny,” Anna whispered, her hand once again coming to her heart. She knew. It had taken a lot for Mom to concede on this. Silas and Lemon looked as surprised as Anna and me.
Mom turned to my new sister-in-law. “Lemon, honey, I know I’ve been hard on you.” She gestured to Silas. “On both of you.” She turned back to the judge. “I don’t do well with change. And losing my daughter at the age of twenty-eight—” She choked on a sob, took a big breath, and recovered. “Having to hand over your granddaughter, unexpectedly…well, I didn’t roll with it well.” She gestured to the judge. “But more than anything, when we walk out of this room, I just want our family to be intact. Whatever happens here today, I—we—need it to be something that will bring peace and not more conflict.”
Satisfied, Dad and Mom returned to their seats. I was effulgent. This was going to swing our way. Anna was going to live with Silas and Lemon. And Mom and Dad were going to be okay with that.
But then Judge Franklin gave us all a sad smile. “That, right there,” she pointed to my parents, “makes me think Anna should go with Bo and Jenny. That is grace if I ever saw it.”
My lungs deflated and I wanted to groan. She hadn’t seen the grace exuded by Lemon all summer while my mom took all her pain out on her.
Anna shot out of her seat before I could stop her. “Can I say something?”
Judge Franklin nodded. “Of course, darling. This is your show.” She gestured to the microphone. Anna, standing there in her navy blue church dress, reached for me. Oh, I was coming with. We walked to the podium, hand in hand.
She gestured to me with her free hand. “Before UncleHolden gives his closing statement, I need to tell you some things.”
Judge Franklin nodded.
Anna squeezed my hand and closed her eyes for a second before beginning. “My mom…I wish you could’ve met her.” She sniffed, her eyes already watering. “She was the best person I’ve ever known. She wasn’t perfect but she loved people in a way that was different than anyone else.” Anna fingered a gold locket at the base of her throat. “She took risks if she thought you were worth it.” She looked right at the judge. “And she thought I was worth it. She thought Silas and Lemon were worth it. So you might think her ninety-day experiment was for laughs, but it wasn’t. Please never think that about her.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. I blinked. “She did this because she knew Silas, Lemon, and Anna were the strongest equation. It made the most sense. It would produce the greatest outcome.” A tear dropped down off her chin and spattered onto the wooden podium.
