Having arrived early, he’d been trying to empty his mind of negative thoughts while staring through the wavy glass of a fourth-floor window of the venerable Prentiss County Courthouse.
His name brought him around. Grace and Joe Gilroy were walking toward him, their expressions somber, as befitted the reason for their being there.
“Hi, Grace.”
His mother-in-law was petite and pretty, with eyes through which her sweet disposition shone. The outside corners tilted up slightly, a physical trait that Beth had inherited. He and Grace hugged briefly.
As she pulled back, she gave him an approving once-over. “You look nice.”
“Thanks. Hello, Joe.”
He released Grace and shook hands with Beth’s dad. Joe’s hobby was carpentry, which had given him a row of calluses at the base of his fingers. Indeed, everything about Joe Gilroy was tough for a man just past seventy.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
Crawford forced himself to smile. “Great.”
Joe appeared not to believe the exaggeration, but he didn’t comment on it. Nor did he return Crawford’s smile.
Grace said, “I guess we’re all a little nervous.” She hesitated, then asked Crawford if he was feeling one way or the other about the hearing.
“You mean whether I’ll win or lose?”
She looked pained. “Please don’t think of the outcome in terms of winning or losing.”
“Don’t you?”
“We only want what’s best for our granddaughter,” Joe said. Interpreted, that meant it would be best for Georgia to remain with them. “I’m sure that’s what Judge Spencer wants, too.”
Crawford held his tongue and decided to save his debate for the courtroom. Talking it over with them now was pointless and could only lead to antagonism. The simple fact was that today he and his in-laws were on opposing sides of a legal issue, the outcome of which would profoundly affect all of them. Somebody was going to leave the courthouse defeated and unhappy. Crawford wouldn’t be able to congratulate them if the judge ruled in their favor, and he wasn’t about to wish them luck. He figured they felt much the same way toward him.
Since both parties had agreed to leave Georgia out of the proceedings entirely, Crawford asked Grace what arrangements she’d made for her while they were in court. “She’s on a play date with our neighbor’s granddaughter. She was so excited when I dropped her off. They’re going to bake cookies.”
Crawford winced. “Her last batch were a little gooey in the center.”
“She always takes them out of the oven too soon,” Joe said.
Crawford smiled. “She can’t wait to sample them.”
“She needs to learn the virtue of patience.”
In order to maintain his smile, Crawford had to clench his teeth. His father-in-law was good at getting in barbs like that, aimed at Crawford’s character flaws. That one had been a zinger. Also well timed. Before Crawford could respond, the Gilroys’ attorney stepped off the elevator. They excused themselves to confer with him.
Within minutes Crawford’s attorney arrived. Bill Moore’s walk was as brisk as his manner. But today his determined stride was impeded by dozens of potential jurors who had crowded into the corridor looking for their assigned courtroom.
The attorney plowed his way through them, connected with Crawford, and together they went into Judge Spencer’s court.
The bailiff, Chet Barker, was a courthouse institution. He was a large man with a gregarious nature to match his size. He greeted Crawford by name. “Big day, huh?”
“Yeah it is, Chet.”
The bailiff slapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Crawford’s butt barely had time to connect with the seat of his chair before Chet was asking everyone to rise. The judge entered the courtroom, stepped onto the podium, and sat down in the high-backed chair that Crawford uneasily likened to a throne. In a way, it was. Here, the honorable Judge Holly Spencer had absolute rule.
Chet called court into session and asked everyone to be seated.
“Good afternoon,” the judge said. She asked the attorneys if all parties were present, and when the formalities were out of the way, she clasped her hands on top of the lectern.
“Although I took over this case from Judge Waters, I’ve familiarized myself with it. As I understand the situation, in May of 2010, Grace and Joe Gilroy filed for temporary custody of their granddaughter, Georgia Hunt.” She looked at Crawford. “Mr. Hunt, you did not contest that petition.”
“No, Your Honor, I did not.”
William Moore stood up. “If I may, Your Honor?”
She nodded.
In his rat-a-tat fashion, the lawyer stated the major components of Crawford’s petition to regain custody and summarized why it was timely and proper that Georgia be returned to him. He ended by saying, “Mr. Hunt is her father. He loves her, and his affection is returned, as two child psychologists attest. I believe you have copies of their evaluations of Georgia?”