Between Love and Duty. Janice Johnson Kay
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Hector’s brown eyes were hot now. “I served my time. I shouldn’t lose my family, too.”
“Can you keep your temper with a teenage boy who doesn’t think he has to listen to his father?”
Hands planted flat on the table, Hector half rose. “I have other children. Ask Lupe! I have never hit my children.”
“But you had a wife then.” Duncan’s tone was barely shy of badgering. “You earned the money and she raised the children. Isn’t that right, Señor Ortez? But now you find yourself a single…”
Judge Lehman cleared his throat loudly. “Captain, Mr. Ortez, you may recall that this is a courtroom, not a forum for open debate.”
Flushed, Hector sank into his chair. Duncan MacLachlan’s expression didn’t change. Jane could swear, even so, that he was basking in satisfaction because they had all—the judge in particular—seen the flare of rage on Hector’s face. The captain glanced at her, and there it was in his eyes, unmistakable. He thought he’d introduced enough doubt in the judge’s mind to swing the decision away from Hector.
“Captain, you’re aware, I’m sure, how difficult it can be to find appropriate foster care placement for a teenage boy. Particularly if we insist that he stay within this school district.” Judge Lehman’s voice was ever so slightly sardonic. “Have you considered becoming licensed so that you could offer a home to Tito?”
It was all Jane could do not to applaud—or to laugh out loud. Instead, she turned a pleasantly interested face to Duncan, whose eyes had narrowed.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said. “You’re aware, I’m sure, of how long and erratic my working hours can be.”
The judge nodded. “I assumed as much. Very well. At this point, I believe our goal should be to reunite Tito Ortez with his father.”
A broad grin broke on Hector’s face. Duncan stiffened.
“However, I’d like to see the transition take place slowly. For the present, Tito shall continue to live with his sister. Mr. Ortez, I’m granting you generous visitation rights. However…” He paused, leveling a look over the glasses that had slid down his nose. “For the present, all visitation will be supervised. Ms. Brooks, are you available to do that supervision?”
She’d done that once before, in a contentious custody case involving two preteen children. “Evenings and weekends,” she said, ignoring MacLachlan’s incredulous stare.
The judge did the same. “Good. Mr. Ortez, I’m going to rule that you can see Tito only when Ms. Brooks is present, or in your daughter Lupe’s home when she is present—if, for example, you were to join your family for dinner. However, I ask that you not spend the night in your daughter’s home.”
Jane murmured a translation to Lupe, who listened intently.
“Do you understand?”
Hector nodded somewhat unhappily. He was no longer smiling.
“Tito cannot live with you until you have a suitable home in any case. This will give you an opportunity to build a relationship with your son. Let’s reconvene in one month and at that point I’ll speak to Tito, as well. I’ll consider then whether you might be allowed unsupervised visitation or even whether Tito feels ready to live with you.” He lifted his gavel and brought it down on the table with a brisk whack. Without ceremony, he gave a friendly nod, stood and strode from the room.
The bailiff guarded the door through which the judge had disappeared. The recorder paid no attention to anyone remaining in the room. After a moment, Jane pushed back her chair and stood, followed shortly by the others. Lupe and Hector hurried out, speaking in low-voiced Spanish. The caseworker waited for Jane and they chatted as they followed. Jane was very conscious of Duncan MacLachlan behind them.
She excused herself, said goodbye to Jennifer Hesby and slipped into the ladies’ restroom, hoping she’d find herself alone when she emerged.
No such luck. Duncan was leaning against the wall waiting for her, his expression baleful.
He pushed away from the wall. “How can you kid yourself this is the right thing for Tito?”
“Children need their parents. Any social worker or psychologist will tell you that, for a child, maintaining a relationship with a parent is critical....”
“We’re not talking about a relationship.” He’d advanced far enough to be standing entirely too close to her. Aggressive. In her face. “This is a kid who has already demonstrated reckless behavior. You’re talking about leaving him to the sole guidance of a man just released from prison after serving a term for a violent crime. Take off the rose-tinted glasses, Ms. Brooks.”
She was damned if she’d retreat even a step. She met his angry stare with one as bland as she could make it. “I don’t believe that any man’s character is determined by a single act. I understand that you see enough of those single acts to…” She sought the right word. “To sour you. The fact remains, Hector Ortez has served his debt to society. He deserves a fair chance, and for Tito’s sake I’m going to help make sure he gets one.”
His eyes glittered with fury, surely out of proportion to their discussion. “For Tito’s sake? Fairness to Hector has nothing to do with his kid! Tito needs someone who sticks to the straight and narrow. Someone who doesn’t lash out every time he gets pissed. Someone who can set a good example and hold him accountable if he screws up.”
She thrust her chin out a little farther. “Hold him accountable? Like you did? You cut him a break instead. Isn’t that what you said?”
Plainly, he didn’t like that. His shoulders went rigid. “You think what I did was wrong.”
“Actually, no, I don’t. I think what you did shows heart. You didn’t judge Tito by one act. So why can’t you do the same for his father?”
“Tito did something stupid. Hector murdered a man in cold blood.”
“A man who was trying to kill him.”
“Who had threatened him,” he corrected. “You can’t tell me there weren’t alternatives. Would you have grabbed a knife and stabbed the guy if you’d been in that spot?”
Of course she wouldn’t have. “His judgment was affected by alcohol.”
His face was inches from hers now, his lips drawn back to show his teeth. “Hector hasn’t had a drink in three years because he couldn’t get one. You trying to tell me you have faith he won’t drink at home? That he’ll always be sober when he’s dealing with Tito? Have you ever seen what a kid looks like after his drunken father beats on him?”
She swallowed, then knew immediately he saw it as a sign of weakness. Of course she’d seen the aftereffects of parental abuse, but no, she didn’t see the children until later, when the outward bruises had healed. But did he really think she didn’t weigh risks? Damn it, she couldn’t let him bully her; she couldn’t.
“I don’t think anyone is perfect,” she said, and felt weariness. If only she could feel shining faith in someone. Anyone. “I do believe Tito’s father is his best hope.”
MacLachlan swore and finally—finally!—swung away from her. She held herself straight, resisting the temptation to sag with relief. He swung around as quickly to face her, but this time he was five or six feet away.
“Expect company, Ms. Brooks, when you supervise those visits. You want your solution to work. I don’t trust you to recognize that it isn’t. I’ll expect to be kept apprised of each and every appointment. Is that clear?”
Anger rolled over her, starting with a hot glow beneath her breastbone and spreading with stunning speed. “Certainly,” she said. “If Judge Lehman instructs me to include you, I’ll do so. Otherwise… If Tito doesn’t invite you, it isn’t happening. Is that clear?”