A Day In Court

A month later they were sitting in front of a judge in a barely comfortable room after the room was called into session. The judge smiled at Famke, Royal and then nodded at Imani. Their lawyers sat beside them, but the rest of the room was empty per the judge’s order. The entire process had been rushed given Imani’s upcoming criminal case and her lawyers wanted it settled before her trial.

“I had a lovely conversation with Precious.” Judge Ringer began. “She is a lovely little girl.”

“Thank you,” Famke smiled nervously as Royal rubbed her shoulder softly.

“She adores you,” the woman looked to Famke directly. “We shared a good conversation about boundaries today. I don’t know many five and half year olds who know the word boundary, let alone have a clear understanding of what it means.”

“Therapy,” Famke couldn’t fight the smile on her face. “We’ve undergone loads of therapy.”

“I’ve read the therapists’ reports along with evidence both parties have presented. However, many times a good conversation with a child tells me more than any paperwork.”

“I’m sure.” Famke twitched nervously in the chair. Why was the judge talking to her and her alone and not the rest of the room?

“Ms. Noor, Precious is thriving based on all the reports I’m seeing. Her teachers, her therapists, her family members,” the judge held up a stack of papers, “all tell me she is thriving, contrary to her grandmother’s assertations. If I’m going to consider allowing Mrs. Robinson any kind of grandparent rights, I need to make sure it’s not a detriment to the child. I must still consider whether this child needs her grandmother, a woman who has been in her life since birth.”

“Yes.” Famke felt her stomach sink to her feet.

“Well, I asked Precious a series of questions about her life. I reminded her she was allowed to speak freely without fear of punishment. For example, I asked what the worst thing she’s done lately where Mommy punished her.” At Famke’s intake of breath, the judge smiled reassuringly. “Do you know what she recalled?”

“I’m guessing it was when she and her friend Amala wanted a sleepover last weekend and got into my makeup and destroyed my bathroom.”

“No. She didn’t mention that one,” the judge laughed. “What happened?” the judge continued the conversation with Famke alone as if nobody else was in the room.

“They wanted a spa day. I told them we could, but they needed to wait, and waiting is not Precious’s strongest trait. I thought they were playing in the playroom and instead they were setting up my bathroom for spa day. An entire bottle of bubble bath in the jacuzzi. An entire tube of my favorite red lipstick between them, which would have made the joker proud. All the blue eyeshadow they could find squished into the marble because they liked how it made it sparkle. My black nail polish painting their names on the mirror.”

“Dear heavens, what did you do?”

“Threw them in the tub full of bubbles, washed them up, fed them pizza while I tried not to cry about the mess in my bathroom. Royal got home from work an hour later and he helped me clean it up once the girls were settled in bed. We needed to replace the mirror since the polish wouldn’t come off. Her punishment was to come shopping with me and help me pick out a new one. We’ve discovered Precious only enjoys shopping when it benefits her. She was not happy to have to select mirrors for an afternoon.”

“Well, Precious didn’t tell me any of this but she did tell me about when she was in trouble this week for cursing.”

“Oh god,” Famke looked to the floor.

“Can you elaborate on her story?”

“My best friend is going through it with her boyfriend. She was on speaker when I was driving Precious to school. She called him a,” she paused. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say it in here.”

“Go ahead,” the judge waved her on.

“Motherfucker.” She knew her face was red. “Precious went to school and one of the kids pushed her. She very loudly shouted the word at him before shoving him back quite a bit harder than he had.”

“You didn’t think this was more serious than the situation of the spa day? Shoving another child?”

“Not really. She was defending herself. In her last school she had a lot of trouble with bullies. I’ll never give her grief for defending herself.”

“She told me she got sent home from school.”

“She did. The kid sprained his wrist when he fell so it was an automatic one-day suspension.”

“Ms. Noor, Precious said her punishment was a talk about appropriate language at school and how it’s important to use words not hands because the little boy got hurt. I asked her if she was scared you would be angry and yell or spank her and her response was to laugh. Overall, Precious describes a safe and happy home where even if she does wrong, she isn’t afraid of being harmed. Then I asked Precious, if she was scared, frightened or in danger, and she could call anyone, who would she call?”

Famke looked to Royal, knowing who Precious’s answer was.

The judge didn’t miss the look, “you already know her answer?”

“Definitely.”

“Mr. Robinson, Precious considers you her hero. She mentioned how much she wants you to be her Daddy Royal instead of her Uncle Royal. You’re who she goes to when she is scared. She told me sometimes when she wakes from her bad dreams, she knows she’s safe because she can hear your feet.”

“My feet?”

“You run,” Famke whispered answering Royal’s question. “You run like the devil himself is chasing you and you’re not exactly light on your feet.”

The judge nodded, “Precious described the same thing.” She inhaled as if the next part was going to be uncomfortable. “I then asked Precious if she was upset about not seeing her Grandma for a long time. It’s been over six weeks according to my notes since her last visit. I asked Precious bluntly if she missed her Grandma.”

“Of course, she does,” Imani folded her arms furiously.

“Actually, she shrugged.”

“What?” Royal cocked his head to one side unable to hold his question back.

“She shrugged. I told I needed words for an answer, and she said, ‘not really’. She said Grandma used to be fun but not anymore. Mrs. Robinson, you stopped playing with her, making cookies with her. She complained all you ever wanted to do was look at pictures of her dad and it wasn’t fun. She explained she was very angry with you because she heard you call Ms. Noor the B word and told her Grandpa you wanted to take her away. I asked how she heard this, and she admitted she was spying to listen to you.”

“Spying?”

“Mrs. Robinson, Precious is a bright, precocious child. Oftentimes, children of abuse and trauma have trained themselves to be more vigilant and guarded. They listen more. They observe more. They watch their surroundings and the people in them to find the safest spots to be when they’re frightened. It speaks volumes Precious needs to listen to every word which escapes your lips in order to be able to gauge her safety.”

At the blunt insult, Imani paled. “That’s not true.”

“It is true. There are thousands of different papers written by many psychologists outlining the way children respond to their environments and the people within them. Mrs. Robinson, Precious clearly doesn’t feel the same level of safety with you as she does with her parents.”

“Not her parents,” Imani gritted through her teeth despite her lawyer urging her to stop.

“Famke Noor is Precious’ biological mother, proven with DNA. There are no documents anywhere which would support she gave her up for adoption. Your son paid a lot of money to keep a lot of mouths shut, Mrs. Robinson because he duped a woman and stole her child. The only doctor who documented anything about a surrogacy was Ms. Noor’s own personal doctor who Mr. Robinson secured for her. It was only in one place at the beginning of the care she provided where she documented Ms. Noor mentioned in passing, she was having a child for her friends, the Browns. The Brown’s, Mrs. Robinson. She was having the Brown’s baby, not the Robinson’s baby. Not one of the other physician’s documented a surrogacy. If it was discussed, it was never written down and I would argue, your son with his money, made it this way.”

“Unbelievable,” Imani whispered angrily,

“Mr. Robinson, Ms. Noor,” Judge Ringer looked at them. “I noted you made a request to Mrs. Robinson to undergo therapy. Mrs. Robinson how did this go?”

“I went.”

“She went to one appointment and refused to book another.” Royal cut her off. “At least be honest to the judge, Mom.”

“Did you ask anyone else to go to therapy?”

“Yes.” Royal noted. “My father, my sister, my grandparents.”

“Your grandparents?”

“My father’s parents, your honor. I realized how maladjusted our family was and asked all my family to go. They agreed, for Precious’s sake, to attend counselling to help learn healthy communication skills.”

“Did your family attend more than one appointment?”

“Dad has been attending weekly since January. My grandparents who are in their eighties,” he smiled, “are also still going and cite it’s made their sixty-year marriage stronger. My sister also still goes, though pretty sure her ongoing sessions purely revolve around her love life but the communication skills she’s learning help with Precious so I’m not going to complain. The confirmation of their visits is in the documents.”

“What you’re saying then, is everyone else has put in the work to be part of Precious’s life except for your mother?”

“Yes, your honor.” Royal shot another annoyed glance at his mother.

“Anything else? I should consider?”

“My mother violated the no-contact order three times. She showed up at Precious’s school and tried to take her out of school twice. The other time she came to my house demanding to see Precious. Precious cried so we allowed the visit in the courtyard of our home, but Mom kicked off because we wouldn’t leave them unsupervised and left. You couldn’t get your own way,” his anger spilled over as he looked to his mother, “and after disrupting her, forcing us to let you see her, you made her cry by driving off in a huff.”

“Mr. Robinson, please. I think I’ve heard enough.” The judge held up her hand. “Precious is a little girl who has lost too much in her short life and has gone through more than any child should. While I am not completely convinced losing her grandmother is in her best interests, because, despite the last nine months of Mrs. Robinson grieving and not being the fun grandma she once was, the child shared many happy stories of baking cookies and laughing with her grandmother. However,” She took a breath, “as much as it pains me, Mrs. Robinson, everything presented previously and the information brought forth today portrays you as an angry and grieving woman so wrapped up in her own sense of loss, she would rather the world burn than to do what is best for her granddaughter. My judgement is in favor of Ms. Noor maintaining her full and undisputed custody of her biological child. I also approve the adoption papers put forth by Mr. Robinson. I deny the petition for custody in any fashion for Mrs. Imani Robinson. Visitation with Mrs. Robinson can be revisited should her parents feel it is in Precious’s best interests, but I recommend, unless Mrs. Robinson completes a full complement of treatment with a court-appointed therapist, no visit should be held unsupervised.” She clanged her gavel, “adjourned.”