Steven’s jaw tightens, and he glances over at his lawyer like he’s silently pleading for an objection. He doesn’t get one. “I don’t know.”
“What allergies does she have?”
Another look to his lawyer, who at least offers a token objection this time. But the judge shoots it down and tells Steven to answer the question.
“I don’t know.”
“What’s her pediatrician’s name? Her teacher’s name? The name of a single friend she has?” Richard doesn’t give him time to answer. “You don’t know any of these things because you haven’t been a father to this child. You’ve been absent. By choice.”
Steven’s composure cracks. “I was young. I made mistakes. But I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to make things right.”
“By showing up at her school uninvited and frightening her mother?” Richard pulls out a police report. “By grabbing Ms. Lucas hard enough to leave bruises?”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding that required police intervention,” Richard says. “Your Honor, this isn’t about a father wanting to reconnect with his child. This is about control. Mr. Walsh is using the legal system to harass and intimidate Ms. Lucas, just as he physically harassed and intimidated her during their relationship.”
Steven’s lawyer objects again, but the damage is done. I can see it in the judge’s expression.
The hearing continues. Mario presents documentation of my stability—my employment, my housing situation with Grant, and April’s school records showing excellent attendance and grades. Jennifer presents character statements from April’s teacher, from Margo, and even from some of Grant’s teammates who have spent time with us.
Steven’s lawyer tries to make Grant sound like a liability, but it backfires. Richard shows photos of Grant and April goofing around on the ice together after a winning game, of him taking her to the trampoline park, and a selfie I took of all three of us bundled up on the couch with bowls of popcorn on a movie night. He shows texts between Grant and me discussing April’s needs and happiness, and the kind of future we both want for her.
It paints a picture of a family. A real family.
Finally, the judge takes off her glasses and looks directly at Steven.
“Mr. Walsh, I’ve reviewed all the evidence presented today. I’ve listened to both sides, and I have to say, I’m not impressed with your petition.”
Steven sits up straighter, but I can see the fear creeping into his eyes.
“You abandoned your parental responsibilities for nine years,” Judge Morrison continues. “You made no financial contributions to this child’s welfare. You made no attempts at contact until you learned Ms. Lucas was in a stable relationship. Your recent behavior, showing up at the child’s school and physically accosting Ms. Lucas, demonstrates poor judgment and a concerning lack of respect for boundaries.”
She puts her glasses back on and picks up her gavel.
“The petition for custody is denied. Furthermore, I’m granting a restraining order. Mr. Walsh, you are to have no contact with Ms. Lucas or the minor child, April Lucas. You are not to go within five hundred feet of their residence, April’s school, or Ms. Lucas’s place of employment. Do you understand?”
Steven’s face goes red. “This is complete bullshit.”
The gavel comes down hard. “Mr. Walsh, I suggest you watch your language in my courtroom. Do you understand the terms of this order?”
His lawyer puts a hand on his arm, and Steven nods stiffly. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Good. This hearing is adjourned.”
The gavel strikes again, and suddenly it’s over.
It all happens so fast that it takes my brain a moment to catch up.
We won.
April is safe.
I turn to look at Grant, and the pride in his eyes makes my throat tight.
“You did it,” he says as he leans in for a quick, chaste kiss.
“We did it.”
