“We should probably get going,” I say. “Don’t wanna be late.”
We enter the courthouse and approach the metal detectors manned by two security officers. My stomach churns with nerves. Penelope’s words float in my mind.Harper’s a really great guy.
Is she right? And more importantly, will the judge be able to see it and realize how much I love Kailee? How there is no one on earth more committed to her wellbeing than I am?
We make our way to courtroom 7c.
13
Preliminary Hearing
I can’t tellwhat the judge is thinking. The man’s unreadable.
Justice Norman Kane is a large, imposing man. When he listens to someone talking, he has a habit of tilting his chin down to his chest, and resting his hands with his fingers interlocked on his sizable abdomen. Once he’s locked into this position, he barely moves. His expression stern, he nods every so often at something said, but other than that, he’s doing a convincing imitation of a statue. I can only hope he’s not actually made of stone—at least the part of him I’m concerned with: his heart.
Laci takes the stand.
I refused to say hi to her before the proceedings got underway. I didn’t want to go anywhere near Laci or her slimy lawyer. I gotta say, I knew I wouldn’t like the guy, but seeing him in person makes me wanna knock him out with an uppercut. He looks about fourteen-years-old. The kind of man you just know couldn’t grow a decent beard. It doesn’t help that his suit is a couple sizes too big either. He’s swimming in that thing. And the schnoz on this guy. Let’s just say if he ran into a brick wall with a boner he’d break his nose first.
But I got no problem with big suits and even bigger noses. Hell, all of that would be fine if it weren’t for one thing: the smile.
It’s awful, I tell ya. The most self-satisfied smile I’ve ever seen. Lips together, eyes half-open, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Must be nice. The other day at the station, the guys had a heated debate about which actor has the most ‘punchable face’ in Hollywood. I didn’t really get the concept. I said Tom Cruise, ’cause I’ve never really bought into his whole I-do-my-own-stunts thing. It’s like, who cares, man? I’d put on a harness and run on top of a train too if I was getting paid twenty million bucks.
But let me tell ya, this lawyer guy owns Cruise in the punchability-of-the-face department.
I sweat soaks through the two shirts I got on underneath this suit jacket. That’s right, Harper Matthews is wearing a suit. take a picture, ’cause there ain’t too many occasions you’ll catch me in one of these things.
Laci adjusts the microphone in front of her.
I gotta admit, she does look healthier. Her complexion is better. She’s got her hair scraped back into a tight ponytail and she’s wearing these big, chunky, plastic-framed retro glasses. Her holes have gotten bigger too—the ones in her ears, just to be clear. Laci has gauged ears, and the plugs she’s got in today are a good inch across. When I first met her, I was attracted to her in-your-face, rebellious style: the gauged ears, the constantly changing hair color, the tattoos. But now, I see all of it for what it is. Vanity. Plain and simple. Laci feeds on attention. In fact, I bet she’s loving this right now. Being on the stand, all eyes on her.
She smiles at the judge. He doesn’t smile back. He clears his throat, lowers his glasses, and directs his weighty gaze in my ex’s direction. “You may proceed with your opening statement, Miss Walters.”
“Thank you, your honor,” she says, and rests her hands on the lectern in front of a notepad. She’s doing her best to look composed, in her cream-colored Hilary Clinton power suit.
She’s not fooling me. She’s still the same person. Sober, maybe, although I wouldn’t be surprised if that was a lie. All I see when I look at her is the same rotten, no-good, car crashing, selfish woman from years back.
“I’m here today to fight for full custody of my daughter, Kailee Renee Matthews.”
Wow. I hope the judge has an Oscar tucked away under that bench because she deserves one. She’s already got tears in her eyes, and she’s acting all choked up. I look over at Paul, who’s sitting next to me at the defendant’s table. He gives me a sympathetic but serious look, as if to tell me,Yeah, I know, this is bullshit, but it’s what we expected.
Paul a good man. Makes me wonder where all the negative lawyer stereotypes come from. I hired him a few years back after some asshole sucker-punched Dennis at The Pulaski and me and the rest of the guys got into a scuffle. Paul immediately put my mind at ease and walked me through the whole legal process. And let me tell ya, I would’ve stuck with him even if he hadn’t gotten the assault charge dropped. Paul’s in his late fifties. He’s tall, has white hair, and thick, dark eyebrows. When he’s not smiling, his face is fierce and intimidating.
Laci takes a deep, shaky breath. “Sorry,” she says, breathily. “This is really hard.”
“Take your time,” Justice Kane says, without much inflection.
“Thank you, your honor.”
“I’m Kailee’s mother. I didn’t always act the part, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that Iamher mother. I used to be a drug addict. I never abused Kailee physically. But I didn’t give her the love and attention that she—and every child—deserves. That’s because—and this isn’t easy to admit—drugs were my main focus back then. That’s the thing about addiction; it takes over your life. The things you should care about and spend your time on fade into the background, and every waking moment starts to revolve around one getting high.”
Laci takes another deep breath. A tear breaks loose and rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away with the back of her hand. I clench my jaw and roll my eyes.
“I know what you must be thinking,” Laci continues, ”how can a mother put drugs before her own child? I’ve wondered the same thing. I still do. I wish I had an answer to that question that would make sense of everything that’s happened. How I failed Kailee as her mother. But I don’t have that kind of answer. In those days, I wasn’t well. I had a disease called addiction. Addiction takes over a person’s brain. Makes them into something they’re not. When I learned about this, after getting sober and attending Narcotics Anonymous meetings, it was like . . . this ephipany. When it comes down to it, the reason I was able to put pills before everything else in my life, including the people I loved and cared about deeply, was simple: I wasn’t myself. I was this shell of a human being who’d been taken over by my disease.”
Laci pauses, and her face scrunches up like she’s gonna burst into tears. She’s putting on quite a performance. None of this is real.
“But I’m not that person anymore. After two years of hard work, I’m me again. And who is that person? If you ask me that, only one thing comes to mind. I’m Kailee’s mom. She’s my little girl. And I love her so much it hurts. I know I can be a good mom to her now.”
