His voice rose a bit more with every sentence as he said, “When Madison ignored your efforts to sweet talk her into coming back to Florida, you let fly with your true feelings, didn’t you, Lorraine? You told your own child you hate being her mother. That you hate her. She told her she’s worthless. You called your own daughter trash! Isn’t that right?” he thundered at her.
Lorraine lost any vestige of self-control and commenced screeching at him, spewing invective at Reno, at Madison, at her lawyer for letting this happen, at Hank for raising Madison to be a spoiled ingrate just like him. She even turned her ire on the judge.
That was when the judge smacked her gavel loudly until the sharp noise stopped Lorraine’s shouting. The judge ordered Lorraine’s lawyer sharply to get control of his client.
Then Judge Ramos looked at Hank. “Your filings say you’re a practicing physician, you own a home that a social worker recently approved as safe and appropriate for your daughter, and a dozen character references say you’re a fine and decent man of sterling moral values and the highest character. They also indicate you want full custody of your daughter. Is all of that true?”
Startled, Hank replied, “Yes, your Honor.”
The judge looked at Madison. “I understand you’re a straight A student, have never gotten in any trouble before, your teachers and guidance counselor all describe you as a terrific, responsible kid who would never run away from home unless the situation was dire. I also understand you want to live full-time with your father. Is all of that true?”
“Yes, ma’am . . . uhh, Your Honor.”
The judge tapped her gavel. “Five minute recess. I’ll return with a ruling when decorum is restored in my court.”
The bailiff had to actually put Lorraine in handcuff and threaten to haul her off to a holding cell before she finally stopped flinging insults and curses at everyone in the room.
Somewhere in the middle of the ruckus, Madison reached out blindly toward Hank, and he threw his arms around her protectively, hugging her close. She leaned into him, feeling very small and very fragile in the face of his ex-wife’s towering rage. Madi huddled against his chest, shaking like a leaf, as Lorraine was finally marched over to the table beside her lawyer and rather forcibly shoved down into a chair, still handcuffed, by the bailiff.
Hank kept one arm protectively around Madi’s shoulders until when the judge came out, sat down, and nodded at the transcriptionist, who nodded back.
The judge looked down from her perch at Madison and smiled kindly. Speaking directly to his daughter, the judge said slowly and clearly, “I grant full physical and legal custody of Madison Michelle Steele to Henry Bart Steele, her natural father. Lorraine Stanley is granted one supervised visit of no more than three hours’ duration each month in the presence of Henry Steele and a court-appointed social worker, to take place in a location of Mr. Steele’s choosing. And if my social worker reports any more outbursts like the one in my court, Ms. Stanley, I will revoke all your visitation privileges so fast your head will spin. Do I make myself clear?”
Lorraine glared mutinously, but her lawyer said meekly, “Yes, Your Honor. I apologize for my client’s behavior?—
“Save it,” the judge snapped. “Count yourself lucky I didn’t throw your client into jail for contempt.”
The gavel cracked down, and Madison jumped. The bailiff said something. Reno turned and smiled at him.
Madison and Hank both sat frozen in their chairs.
Hank put his hand, palm down, on the table between them. He didn’t reach for her. He let her work through what had to be a flood of overwhelming emotions at her own speed.
After a moment she put her hand on top of his. And then he breathed for what seemed like the first time since Lorraine had lost her temper.
Hank stood up to get Madison out of there, and Reno said quietly, “Let the other side clear out first.”
Right.
They gave it a couple of minutes, and Reno offered under his breath to go out first and make sure the coast was clear, but Hank replied grimly, “I’ll do it. You stay with Madi.”
She was his daughter. His full responsibility, now. And the first order of business was protecting her from her mother.
He made it almost to the lobby before Lorraine ambushed him.
She gripped his forearm with claw-like strength, hissing under her breath so only he would hear. He smelled her shampoo and underneath it the faint rot of a body abused for far too long by far too many poisons.
“You ruined me, Hank. You ruined my life, and then you ruined me. You turned me into this. This is your fault.”
There was no judge, no audience, for this attack. This dagger was meant solely for him and meant to draw blood.
He didn’t argue, since it only enraged her more if he defended himself. He didn’t say anything.
He stood there—hands at his sides, feet stuck to the floor, the way an animal stood trapped in a chute with nowhere to go—and let her attack him one last time. He endured her rage and accusations until she finished.
She glared at him, waiting for excuses he refused to give her. She would leave if he waited her out. He always had been able to outlast her?—
Without warning, A big, warm hand touched his shoulder blades.
