Chapter 11: Hearing Day

I took the petition out of Dean's hand and held it up so the porch could see.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll read it in court."

I took the roses, too, because they were mine, and handed them to the nearest neighbor.

Dean's smile held for another second.

Then it slipped, and I saw what was under it.

The hearing was Thursday at nine.

Clark's sister had found me a lawyer from the legal aid office.

She was a tired woman in a gray suit who ate crackers from her briefcase and never raised her voice.

"Judges like facts," she told me in the hallway. "Dull ones. Pediatrician records. A lease. A pay stub."

"I have a pay stub for three days."

"Then we'll bring it."

The courtroom was small and pale, with a flag in the corner.

Dean sat across the aisle in his best navy suit with his lawyer beside him.

Constance sat behind them in pearls.

She did not look at me once.

The judge was a woman in her sixties with half-glasses and a flat, dry voice.

Dean's lawyer spoke first.

He was young, and sleek, and certain.

He said I had abandoned a stable home.

He said I had taken a four-year-old into an apartment owned by the family of an unrelated man.

He said I was unemployed.

"She has been out of the workforce for six years, Your Honor," he said.

"Mr. Gaffney has provided every need. She has no income, no savings and no history of managing money."

"Objection," my lawyer said mildly. "Mr. Gaffney's lawyer is about to discuss money."

The judge looked over her glasses.

"Go on," she said to him.

He cleared his throat.

"For the record, Mrs. Gaffney has been given a monthly allowance."

He glanced at his notes.

"Mr. Gaffney reviewed her spending to keep the household on budget. She has never shown the discipline."

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