Chapter 11
Patch
We finally get our day in court eleven days later.
Serena quietly organizes files beside us.
She’s lost in her own thoughts, likely preparing what she’s going to say to the judge.
Smoke sits beside her as co-counsel. He’s scribbling notes on a legal pad and occasionally conferring with her.
With these two behind us, I have a good feeling about today.
We rise when the judge enters and take our seats again when he settles into place and calls the court into session.
Serena stands. “Your Honor, we are requesting an injunction against any change of placement for Lila Jefferies. She is medically fragile. Her current facility meets her needs and has been the place she’s called home for the last eight years.
We have letters from treating physicians stating preserving her current placement is in her best interest and a statement from Lila stating she wishes to remain at Sunnybrook.
Her care is being paid for by money set aside by her late father, so there are no mitigating reasons that she be moved. ”
Serena lays out her case carefully, noting the applicable statutes. She explains how removing her meets the threshold for irreparable harm. She also states that the guardianship order only covered periods where Lila is unable to advocate for herself.
“Finally,” she says, “we submit text messages from the defendant to Ms. Beth Jefferies, which demonstrate intent to remove the patient immediately, without a plan of care in place. The defendant’s words are a clear and present danger to the patient.
We are asking the court to prevent imminent harm while we prepare a full filing.
A sudden removal without a respiratory plan or medical transport risks harm up to and including death. ”
She stops there and takes her seat again. The judge gives her a quick nod.
The opposing counsel rises. “Your Honor, this family has suffered a devastating loss. The defendant is a bereaved widower and an attentive father who has maintained employment and a stable home. He admits to strong language in private texts during the worst of his grief and deeply regrets it. He has sought counseling with Father Michael, who is his longtime spiritual support. I submit Father Michael’s letter regarding the defendant’s participation in pastoral counseling and his fitness as a guardian. ”
He walks the letter to the clerk himself and hands it over.
“My client has no intent to harm his stepdaughter. This court would do better to order family counseling and mediation rather than the extraordinary remedy of approving this injunction. In this time of need it is imperative that the grieving family stay together, in the family home. That is why he wants his stepdaughter to live with him.”
Serena stands again. “Response, Your Honor. Pastoral letters have their place. They should not replace reports by relevant medical professionals. The defendant’s texts threaten immediate removal. He has offered no plan of care for oxygen support or respiratory therapy.”
When Serena sits, the judge leans back, looking at Beth. “Ms. Jefferies, do you wish to address the court?”
Beth rises. Her voice is soft, steady, clear.
“My sister told me she does not want to leave. It’s one of the best facilities in the region.
She waited years to get a placement there, entering when she was a child and could no longer be maintained at home.
They know how to care for her, and she’s doing well under their care. ”
Her stepfather rises to give his personal statement. “I have made mistakes, Your Honor. I miss my wife, and my stepdaughters miss their mother. All I was trying to do was keep my family together. I am willing to sit with a counselor and a mediator. I will not harm my own.”
The judge passes his judgment. “Ms. Lila Jefferies will remain in her current facility. I am ordering family mediation within seven days. Counsel will coordinate with an approved mediator. The court expects a good faith plan regarding placement, medical coordination, and a visitation schedule.”
Serena turns to us and leans in. “We move on to the issue of guardianship tomorrow,” she whispers. “This buys us time. We’ll use it wisely.”
Beth nods and moves towards the aisle. Her stepfather watches her go with that same controlled expression on his face.
Once all the arrangements have been made, I step into the hallway. I’ll admit that I’m eager to get out of that stuffy courthouse. I hurry out the front door of the brick building and see Beth in the distance. Somehow her stepfather got past me and made it to her first.
Beth is standing near a stone pillar, looking angry and exasperated. Her stepfather is standing about three feet away, talking to her.
“Elizabeth,” her stepfather starts. “You did this,” he hisses. “You dragged our family through court.”
She glares at him. “I told the truth.”
“You’re talking nonsense, you ran off out of the blue and next thing I know you’ve married a damn biker. You aren’t in your right mind. You’ve clearly lost your grip on reality and now you want to make me look like a monster.”
“You are one.”
“Your mother would turn over in her grave to see you associating with biker trash. It’s your fault she’s dead. You worried her when she most needed to rest.”
I pick up my pace as he keeps talking. “She lost the will to fight. She once told me to keep tight control over you because you were no good. She knew what was in you, don’t think she didn’t. You broke her heart, and now you’re breaking mine.”
“All you do is lie,” Beth says. “She died because of cancer. You know that.”
“She died because of you,” he says. “You can dress it up however you like, but she chose to stop treatment. She was just too tired to keep dealing with you.”
Beth takes a half-step back, but the pillar catches her shoulder, bringing her up short. He steps forward.
“You think that biker can save you? He can’t. He only wants what every man wants. You’ve always been hungry for attention.”
Beth shakes her head. “Stop it! You’re always lying and twisting the truth to suit your own ends. I know what you are, I know what you wanted to do with me! Why do you think I ran?”
“Watch it, young lady,” her stepfather says in a menacing tone as he leans in close.
“Step the fuck away from my wife,” I say, raising my voice.
He turns, surprised I’m this close. I stop just behind Beth and repeat my warning. “I said to back the fuck up.”
He straightens and frowns at me. “You think that because you’re married to my daughter you can tell me what to do?”
“It means I’m responsible for her safety,” I tell him in no uncertain terms. “And you’re threatening it.”
He scoffs at the very idea that he could be a threat. “I’m her father.”
He takes half a step back, but he wants the last word. “She’s a liar. She seduced you to keep her place in that club of yours. You people think rules don’t apply to you.”
Beth starts to speak, but I lift a hand slightly. “Please go wait by the door,” I tell her. She hesitates, then walks away.
“You will not text, call, or approach her in public ever again. You will handle everything through our legal counsel.”
He folds his arms. “Or what?”
“If you contact her again by any means, I will consider that harassment and file for a restraining order. That order will be public. Your name will appear in that record. Your family, friends, fellow churchgoers, and clients will see it. You will answer every question that follows.”
His expression tightens. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” I say.
His lawyer coughs softly behind him, looking a bit nervous. Good, I think to myself. He should be wary of my response.
“Walk away before I make that call right now.”
He looks in Beth’s direction before saying, “Do you think this is over?”
“It’s over for today,” I say roughly. “Don’t fucking test how far I’ll go tomorrow.”
He studies my face, searching for some weakness to exploit, then turns and simply walks off.
Beth stands by the exit with her arms folded. She looks like she’s about to break. I cross the distance and stop in front of her. “He’s gone. Don’t let him live rent-free in your head.”
She shakes her head. “I try not to, but he said my mother died because of me.”
“I heard. It was all lies, from a sick, twisted excuse of a man,” I reassure her.
Her bottom lip trembles. “I know, but it still hurts. What does he get out of hurting people?”
I reach for her and pull her into a tight hug. “It doesn’t matter. He’s your past. I think you’ve been through enough for one day. Let’s head home.”
She nods and we walk out to the parking lot and get on my bike.
***
Once we’re home, I open the front door and, on an impulse, I swoop her off her feet and carry her over the threshold.
Setting her down on my massive sofa, I pull off her shoes and wrap a spread around her smaller form.
I pull the curtains closed, turn the thermostat up a couple of degrees to get the chill off the house, and make us a couple of mugs of hot chocolate.
I press one into her hand and watch her drink half of it as I sip my own.
Soon, the color returns to her lips. It reminds me that women need more caretaking than men, and I’ve been falling down on the job with Beth.
“What would it take to make this day better for you?” I ask.
She peers up at me and says the last thing I imagined, “Ice cream would be nice.”
My eyebrows fly up because life cannot be this easy.
“Seriously?”
She gives a weak smile, “Whenever I was upset as a kid my mom would take me and Lila out for ice cream. That was before she got too sick. I guess it’s my comfort food.”
“Well, luckily for you, I might just have what you’re looking for.”
I ease her off my lap, grab a pint of chocolate ice cream from the freezer, and come back with two spoons.