A/N:
First of all, I need to apologize to you faithful readers. I'm so sorry for leaving you guys hanging like this. After the last chapter I was on vacation for two weeks and it was great, but as soon as I came home my life has been a rollercoaster ride with some very unfortunate events and a crash somewhere along the way. In between something I call the 'post vacation blues', a bike accident with a neck injury that is still bothering me and a chapter that didn't come easy to me it took me this long to finally get this up. And it's not even the whole thing.
A lot of the credit for this chapter goes to the lovely Dubigail. Without her this chapter would have taken me at least another two months. But she wouldn't stop encouraging me to keep going in spite of the obstacles thrown my way. So here I am, presenting you the newest chapter to Fool's Gold after a two month break. I hope that it was worth the wait. Enjoy!
August 16, 2000
"Would you stop that already?" Eric hissed quietly, unable to conceal his annoyance.
"But the chair is too hard," Emma grumbled in a whiney tone. She shifted on her seat for the umpteenth time, trying to find a semi-comfortable position on the wooden piece of furniture. Admittedly, Eric could sympathize with his little sister. They were sitting in the same courtroom the emancipated youth had been in two weeks earlier and the accommodations hadn't improved in the short period of time. Not that he had expected them to. If he was being honest with himself, he'd rather be somewhere else as well and with his own nerves on edge Emma's constant bum shuffling irritated him even more.
"I know, Emma," he sighed, rubbing his left thumb and index finger across his forehead to ease the pressure building there. "But you constantly moving around won't make the chair any more comfortable. Just sit still already, okay?" he scolded, all the while keeping his voice low as not to attract unwanted attention from the other people in the room. The angry daggers his sister shot his way in return made him feel guilty for being so harsh with her immediately. Softening his voice he added, "Please, Emma?"
The girl narrowed her eyes and protruded her chin in a petulant matter before she finally relented. "Okay, okay," she muttered grumpily and forced her body to stillness. "Happy now?"
Eric groaned inwardly and nodded. "Yes. Thank you," he empathized and took a deep breath to calm his own frazzled nerves, then turned to his mother, who was sitting to his left. Contrary to his sister the older woman was the epitome of calm. Sitting upright with both feet firmly planted on the floor and palms resting flat on her thighs her gaze was directed straight ahead. Her facial features were smooth and didn't show any sign of distress. He wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed like there was even a faint smile gracing her lips. He allowed himself to smile as well. At least one of them was oblivious to the importance of today's hearing. Just this once he considered her forgetfulness a blessing.
He let his eyes roam until they landed on Katherine, who was sitting in the row behind them. When she realized that he was looking at her she gave him an encouraging warm smile. It reflected the faith she had in him and Eric felt overwhelmed to know that someone believed in his success as much as she did. Kathy didn't have an active part in the hearing anymore, but he was grateful that she offered to support them nevertheless. Her presence had a calming effect on him and her smile had the power to lift some of the burdens he carried around off his shoulders.
Further down the row of chairs sat Elliot Lynch, the social worker assigned to their case. The older man's brows were currently knitted together in concentration as he reviewed a stack of papers which Eric assumed were his case notes for the hearing. Even though the teenager got along well with the social worker he was well aware that Lynch could turn the tables for him. One negative annotation to the judge and everything he had been working towards might have been in vain. The thought send shivers down his spine and he shook his head to get the negative thoughts out of his mind. He needed to stay positive. If he didn't believe in himself, things would go downhill for sure.
"All rise for the honorable Judge Michael Dumont." At the familiar voice of the bailiff calling from the front of the courtroom Eric snapped back to attention. Time to face the music, he thought and rose from his chair. With a glance to his left and his right he made sure that Emma and his mother did indeed follow the instructions, then turned to watch as the Judge entered the room and took a seat behind his desk.
"You may be seated," Judge Dumont announced and the audience followed suit. "Today's gathering is a continuation of the hearing held on August 2, 2000 regarding the emancipation of the minor Eric Bartholomew Beale III.," he began. "Along with the petition for emancipation Mr. Beale filed a request for legal guardianship of both his mother, Mrs. Bettina Beale, and his sister, Ms. Emma Beale, which is why this second hearing was scheduled. Seeing as these are two separated subjects, the cases will be treated consecutively. We are going to hear the case of Mrs. Bettina Beale first." The Judge glanced up from his files over the rim of his reading glasses. "I ask petitioner Eric Beale to the podium."
The newly emancipated youth took a deep breath and rose from his chair, straightened his dress shirt and walked to the podium. He fidgeted with his hands, noticing that his palms were a little sweaty and wiped them on the pockets of his pants. To his own relief he didn't feel nearly as nervous as he had felt two weeks ago. He was more familiar with the procedure of a hearing, after all. However, that knowledge didn't have the power to lift the pressure off his shoulders. The blonde straightened his back, squared his shoulders and lifted his chin to appear more confident as he stood behind the podium, then acknowledged the Judge with a respectful, "Your Honor."
"Mr. Beale, please recount most recent events that led to your request." Without any preamble Judge Dumont cut right into his questioning, leaving Eric next to no time to gather his thoughts and the teenager was glad that Kathy had prepared him over and over again for the hearing.
"I was declared emancipated two weeks ago. This step was necessary, because my mother suffers from Alzheimer's and the disease reached a point where she isn't able to make decision on my behalf anymore and I needed to be able to make decisions regarding my education among other things," the blonde reported matter-of-factly.
"You applied for guardianship of the person for your mother. What prompted your decision and why do you think this step is necessary?" the judge inquired.
Eric licked his dry lips before answering. "There are a few deciding factors, Your Honor, the most important one being my mother's disease. Like I already said, she isn't able to make important decisions for me anymore and she is slowly losing the ability to make rational decisions for herself as well. It's only a matter of time before she can't properly consider her options at all anymore. Someone has to be there to guide her, to make sure she keeps her appointments and sticks to an everyday routine."
A small frown appeared on the Judge's forehead and Eric tensed involuntarily, feeling slightly intimidated by the small change in mimic. It gave him a sense of foreboding that maybe this questioning wouldn't be as smooth as he had hoped for. "Do you consider yourself suitable for the task and even more importantly do you think you can handle the responsibilities?"
Resisting the urge to squirm under the scrutinizing eye of the judge the teenager nodded resolutely and answered with more confidence and calm than he thought himself capable of. "With all due respect, Your Honor, yes I do. I have been taking care of my mother and sister for a few years now and even though the responsibility has grown and is still growing over the years I would like to think that I've done a decent job so far and I know that I can do it in the future as well."
The Judge pursed his lips and raised his eyes at him in surprise. "Very well. Personally, I'm not an expert on Alzheimer's disease, but in the last hearing you mentioned that as the disease progresses your mother will need more care in the future. There is going to be more work lying ahead of you than you have to take care of right now. Are you aware of that?"
"I'm aware of that and I'm willing to accept that challenge," Eric confirmed self-assuredly. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat as he felt a sudden onslaught of emotions washing over him. He pressed his lips into a tight line to keep them at bay and cleared his throat before asking, "Permission to add something to this, Your Honor?" he asked, his voice very close to wavering and the words sounding strange and foreign to his own ears.
"Permission granted," the Judge approved and leaned forward in his chair, focusing on the blonde with a look of anticipation.
Eric cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. He had done a decent job at keeping it together for the past months and now was definitely not the time to let his emotions get the better of him. A fleeting glance in the judge's direction reminded him that the man still expected an explanation. He took a deep breath and then launched into it. "For me, this isn't a question of whether I'll be able to handle the responsibility. For me, it's all about what my mother needs," he began and looked up again, waiting for a sign that he had caught Judge Dumont's attention.
"Please elaborate," the grey-haired man encouraged him to continue.
"For a person suffering from Alzheimer's it's very important to feel comfortable and safe in their environment. Taking them out of the surroundings they are used to will have a negative effect on their health. Their mental and physical state will deteriorate. It is going to do that no matter what happens, but the only way to prevent the disease from progressing faster is to keep them in their environment for as long as possible. And that also means that they need the people around them that they are closest with. For my mother the people closest to her are me and my sister. We are the only constant in her life for the last decade. She needs me," he stopped for a moment, frowning at his slip-up. "Us. She needs us to feel loved and to feel safe. It's not a guarantee for anything, but it's better than the alternative."
Eric lowered his head and looked at his hands, which were currently gripping the edge of the podium so hard that his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to loosen the grip and let them drop to his sides. "Placing her with people she doesn't know and that don't know her… My mom is family and family should always be there for one another, no matter what." People shouldn't even have to question it, the youth thought, but decided against saying it out loud. He didn't want to come across as disrespectful and questioning the system in a courtroom probably wouldn't be the best idea anyway.
An eerie silence filled the courtroom all of a sudden and the only sound Eric heard was his own breathing and the blood pounding in his ears. Even Michael Dumont sat still for a long moment as he processed what the fourteen year-old had just said and Eric assumed it didn't happen often that a judge was rendered speechless. He wasn't sure if he should feel proud or embarrassed and simply waited for the older man to break the silence.
Judge Dumont cleared his throat another ten seconds later. "Thank you for providing your detailed explanation, Mr. Beale. It will be taken into consideration later," he assured. "However, there is still one pressing question that needs to be brought to attention. How do you plan on providing for your mother and her medical costs?"
Relieved about the change of topic Eric's confidence returned and he was more than happy to answer. "I am working two part-time jobs at the moment. Once the new school year starts I'm going to have to give up one of the two and there will be less income. But I have been approved a scholarship and it will cover for that. I have the papers with me in case you need them, Your Honor. The medical expenses for my mother will be covered by her disability pension and there is also a trust fund that my mother set up years ago that I have access to. I provided the paperwork for that before the hearing," he explained methodically.
The Judge skimmed through the files on front of him. Once he found the exhibits on the trust fund he pulled the paper out and reviewed it through his glasses before nodding once. "I have them right here, but I will have to review the papers on your scholarship as well. You may bring them to me, Mr. Beale." Eric retrieved the requested paper from a folder he had brought with him and brought them up to the Judge's desk, placing them in the waiting hands of Michael Dumont. The judge read through the forms and gave a nod of approval once he finished. "Alright. That is all for now, Mr. Beale. You may be seated."
Relief washed over the emancipated youth. He was thankful for the short reprieve and allowed some of the tension to leave his body, even though he knew that he would have to get up there again to fend for his sister and Eric suspected it would be even harder to do that. When he sat down he caught Katherine's watchful eye and the encouraging smile gracing her lips. It helped put his mind at ease and Eric found himself grateful once more that she had decided to tag along for the hearing.
"Next character witness, Mrs. Bettina Beale, please come forward," the gravelly voice of the Judge had Eric focus again. The blonde teenager turned to his mother and watched her closely as she rose from her chair and walked up to the front of the courtroom. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he observed her every move as not to miss any signs of discomfort or of her slipping away from reality. He needed to be on high alert now, ready to step in and assist if anything went haywire, Eric reminded himself.
Unfortunately, from his chair he didn't have a good line of sight on her face, which made reading her facial features quite difficult. He had to rely on the bit of body language he could catch from behind in order to react. So far, she seemed at ease and the teen assumed that those who didn't know her the way he did, wouldn't be able to see the telltale signs of her slowly decaying mind. But he knew better. He knew how unpredictable the disease was and that his mother's moods could change in the matter of seconds.
"Your Honor," Mrs. Beale greeted and the clarity in her voice told Eric that she was clear-headed at the moment.
"Mrs. Beale, I understand that you have been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, an illness that is incurable," the Judge began and searched her eyes for a reaction to his blatant words, but the woman simply smiled and nodded at him. "According to your son and the statement of your attending physician you have reached an advanced stage of the disease and are experiencing extensive memory loss, which impairs with your ability to reason. Because of this you have been declared unfit for work a year ago," Judge Dumont read off of a sheet of paper, presumably the medical report from her neurologist that Eric had provided. Looking up at her again he asked, "Is that correct, Mrs. Beale?"
"If that is what my doctor says, I assume that's correct," Eric's mother offered, her eyes round and an innocent smile on her lips. "I'm not the doctor here. I think we might just have to trust his judgement in this case." The firm belief in her voice had Eric chuckle quietly under his breath and he noticed that even the Judge couldn't hide the amused twitch of the corner of his mouth.
"I have to agree, Mrs. Beale," Michael Dumont admitted lightheartedly, then schooled his features again. "But I assume you're aware of your own… cognitive deficits?" he inquired.
Her expression turned sad, erasing her previously carefree appearance. "Yes, I have. As much as I hate to admit it, a lot of things have slipped my mind lately. I don't know where my head is at sometimes and without Eric's help I probably would have missed a bunch of appointments already. Eric, my son, always helps me remember things. I believe it gets a little bit frustrating for him sometimes to take care of his old lady like that. He would never admit it, though."
"What gives you that impression, Mrs. Beale?"
A faint smile played around the corners of her mouth as she gave the Judge a doe-eyed looked. When she spoke her voice was filled with pride and awe. "My son Eric is such a sweet child. He's everything you could ever wish for. He has the biggest heart and would never hurt a fly. Even when he is frustrated he'd never say so because he doesn't want to hurt other people's feelings. He's grateful for the smallest things, never asks for anything. He gives out love without wanting anything in return. He's a gift from God." Her eyes glazed over for a while as if remembering something pleasant and the corners of her mouth lifted a bit more. "Eric is a good kid."
"Did your son tell you that he petitioned for emancipation?" Judge Dumont asked and propped his elbow up on his desk, waiting for her reply.
Upon hearing the question the glow vanished from her face and left Eric's mother in a state of surprise, causing her to stumble over her own words. "He has? I wasn't aware…" she admitted gloomily, then added. "My memory is not what it used to be. I must have forgotten that he told me." She paused for a moment, raised her right hand to her chin. "Yes I'm sure he told me and it slipped my mind." She looked up at the Judge expectantly with a frown on her forehead.
The Judge read it as a sign of insecurity and decided to relay the information for her. "Your son became an emancipated minor two weeks ago on my orders. Did you expect him to pursue this step at this time?"
Mrs. Beale covered her mouth with her right hand and shook her head thoughtfully, her facial expression blank. "I did not. But this is my son Eric we're talking about. He's such a clever boy. Has a brilliant mind too. He's smart like that and I think he would do something like that if he saw the need to do it." She shook her head again, her features changing between stunned confusion when answering the Judge's questions and affectionate pride when talking about Eric.
"He also requested guardianship of you and your daughter Emma. Are you aware of this?" the Judge inquired, wondering how much longer he could proceed with the questioning.
Still shaking her head absentmindedly, the woman glanced up at the Judge and away again. "I… I'm not sure. Eric would have told me. Do you know Eric? He's my son. He's a really good kid."
"Yes I know your son. I was asking if you were aware of your son's intent to be your legal guardian." Michael Dumont asked again. He waited for a reaction, but when he didn't receive an answer he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He looked in Eric's direction, making brief eye contact with him and noticed that the youth already sat on the edge of his chair, alert and well aware of the change in behavior. The Judge concentrated on the woman at the podium and tried again. "Mrs. Beale, did you understand the question or shall I repeat it for you?"
She blinked her eyes a couple of times, daring a fleeting look in his direction but after that she refused to meet his eyes again. Instead, she pressed her lips together and squared her jaw. Even to someone with no experience, it was obvious that she didn't want to talk to the Judge anymore for whatever reason. Judge Dumont locked eyes with the blonde teenager once again.
"Mrs. Beale?" Judge Dumont tried one more time and when that didn't provoke a reaction from the woman he locked eyes with the blonde teenager once again.
Eric could barely remain in his chair anymore. Back ramrod straight, shoulders tense and hands tightly fisted on his pants' legs he was ready to jump out of his seat and get to his mother. He almost missed the askance look the Judge gave him, his brain already working on phrasing an appropriate request. A blink of an eye later it just bubbled out of his mouth. "Your Honor?" he addressed the Judge and waited for the man to acknowledge his words before continuing. "May I approach?"
"You may." Already halfway in an upright position it didn't take Eric anything else but those two words of confirmation to push out of his chair completely and close the distance between himself and his mother. He approached the podium from the left, making sure to be in her line of sight and leave an escape route for her in case she felt cornered and had the need to get away from him. "Mom?" he tried, keeping his voice low and non-threatening. Watching her closely he waited for any sign of recognition, but the only movement indicating that she heard him was the tiniest twitch of her right eyelid. Eric tilted his head to one side to move further in her line of sight. "Mom? It's me, Eric." Still nothing, not even a twitch this time.
Despite his better judgement Eric reached out and touched the wrist closest to him, which was perched on the edge of the podium to attract his mother's attention. The teenager worried his lips and prepared himself for a possibly severe reaction to the touch. Surprisingly though, his mother didn't flinch or even lash out at him. The fleeting brush of skin against skin did the trick and pulled Mrs. Beale out of her trance. Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings in astonishment as if she realized for the first time that she was in a courtroom. When she finally focused on the human shape in front of her, she narrowed her eyes in confusion until recognition came and her features softened. "Eric?" she asked in wonder. "Is that you?"
The blonde offered her a warm smile in reply and nodded hastily. "Yes. It's me, Eric. I'm right here," he assured her with a calming voice, taking her left hand in his and squeezing gently to confirm his presence.
She scrutinized him for almost a minute, trying to make sure that it was indeed her son standing right in front of him and smiled once she was satisfied. "It's good to see you, my boy." She paused for a brief moment, her eyes flickering to the front of the courtroom and back to Eric. "I'm a little confused, Eric," she finally admitted and stole another look in the Judge's direction. Lowering her voice she continued, almost whispering. "What is he doing here?"
Taken aback by her strange question Eric raised his eyebrows, but schooled his features easily. "We're in court, remember? To get the custody issues figured out. I told you about this earlier this morning, mom," he explained to her in a calm manner.
His mother grimaced and looked even more confused. "For which reasons, though? I already have full custody of you and your sister. I do have custody over you and your sister, don't I? Eric?" He nodded and rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. In contrast to that Mrs. Beale shook her head vigorously and massaged her right temple with her right hand as she tried follow. "This doesn't make sense at all."
"It totally makes sense, mom," Eric corrected her sympathetically. He searched her face and waited for her to look at him again. "It makes sense, because this is not about you getting custody over us. It's me that is trying to get custody of you and Emma," he reasoned with ruefulness.
The blank look on her face was all the answer the teenager needed to realize that she had no idea what he was talking about. "I don't understand? Eric?" She asked perplexed. "Why would you do that?" The utter disbelief and betrayal in her questions cut like a knife and Eric swallowed the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He was used to this and he should be able to handle it, but with the Judge witnessing it felt like the pressure almost suffocated him. He bit the insides of his cheeks hard enough to hurt and distract his mind from the unhelpful thoughts and steered his attention back on the problem at hand.
"Mom, listen…" He softened his voice and poured all the compassion he possessed into it as he tried to reason with her. "Your memory is not as good as it used to be, you know that. You forgot a few very important appointments in the past months. I don't want to rub it in your face and I hate to admit this, but you need someone to remind you, to help you with your memory." Eric watched in horror as her eyes widened in shock and he immediately knew to what conclusion she had come. He shook his head and squeezed her hand tightly. "No, no mom. I don't want to get rid of you. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm not going to let a stranger take care of things for you. You're my mom. You'll always be my mom and I want to be there for you no matter what happens. You hear me?"
Mrs. Beale raised her free hand to his cheek, wiping away a trail of moisture that had appeared there out of nowhere. A single tear had escaped without him even noticing it, but he couldn't care less at the moment. "Eric, that's very honorable of you."
He allowed himself a smile. "But I can only do that if I am your legal guardian. I don't have any power over what happens to you otherwise."
A million emotions crossed his mother's facial features as she tried to connect the dots and make sense of what he had told her. Eric dreadfully awaited her reaction, her hand still clasped in his. "This is the only way, you say?" she finally asked.
Eric nodded timidly. "Yes it is," he confirmed remorsefully and observed his mother for a while. She still didn't look like she was entirely convinced by the course of action. Her eyes shifted in the direction of Judge Dumont every once in a while, sending daggers his way. "Mom?"
"But can we trust him?" She jerked her head in his direction, accompanied by another poisonous glare. "He doesn't look like he's going to decide in our favor. Are you sure we can trust him?"
Eric lowered his head and coughed in embarrassment. Heat rose to his cheeks and right then he wished nothing more than to curl up and die. "I have no way of knowing if he will decide in our favor, mom. But he granted my emancipation and without that we wouldn't even have a chance at me becoming your guardian," he explained, carefully avoiding any judgement that might affect the Judge's decision in a negative way.
"Hmm," Mrs. Beale huffed in reply, clearly not happy with the answer. "Are you one-hundred percent sure that we can trust him?" she asked again, still suspicious of the grey-haired man up front.
"I'm sure, mom," Eric reinforced, barely able to hold back his own amusement at her distrustful antics. "Are you ready to answer the questions he might have for you?" he asked while contemplating whether it was safe to leave her alone at the podium or not.
His mother nodded her head, slowly at first, but more confident with every single nod of her head. "I think I can handle him," she ascertained him with a conspiratorial wink of her left eye. "I'm ready. Don't worry about your mother."
Eric chuckled despite his better judgement. "Okay. I'm sitting right there, mom," he pointed at the unoccupied chair next to Emma. "Just so you know." Eric waited for her to indicate that she understood him, which she did with a confident smile and a pat on his shoulder, and then turned to lock eyes with the Judge again. "Your Honor," he paid his respect and returned to his chair.
Judge Dumont cleared his throat and picked up his notes. "We left off with the question, whether or not you were aware of your son requesting guardianship over you. I think the interaction between you and your son that we all came witness to, answered that question, along with several more questions I would have asked you, Mrs. Beale. Therefore, I have no more questions. You may be seated," he dismissed her. Eric's mother complied, even though she was slightly confused that the questioning ended so abruptly.
Unsure where to go, Mrs. Beale let her eyes roam over the rows in search of her son. She spotted him right where he had pointed to just minutes earlier and indicated to the empty seat next to him. Relieved she sat down next to him, blindly fumbling for his hand. He took it and squeezed it once again, letting her know that he was right there with her.
Once Mrs. Beale was safely settled in her chair again Judge Dumont cleared his throat to get the audience's attention again. "Character witness Mr. Elliot Lynch, please come forward," he demanded firmly.
The dark-haired social worker rose from his seat and walked up to the podium, placing the folder he was holding in his right hand on the wooden platform. He nodded to the Judge, "Your Honor."
"Mr. Lynch, as the assigned caseworker you have continued supervising the domesticity of the Beale family, correct?" the Judge started his questioning.
"That is correct, Your Honor," Elliot confirmed and opened the manila folder in front of him to have visual access to his written notes.
"How has your cooperation evolved over the two weeks since the previous hearing?"
"After Eric was declared an emancipated youth he and I met to work out a schedule for the next months. We agreed on weekly meetings for the time being in order to give him a chance to grow accustomed to the additional legal responsibilities he now has. Thus, I have visited the family twice since the last hearing," Lynch explained. "Usually I witness a shift in family dynamics in cases like this. Tensions either rise or fall considerably, depending on the circumstances that led to the emancipation. However, I haven't been able to detect either extreme. The interaction between the family members basically stayed the same despite the rising pressure that Eric is under. He now is an adult on paper, not just pretending to be one and he handles that quite well. In fact, he handles the situation much better than what can be expected. He implemented minor changes in their everyday routines, set up week plans to give them an even more effective structure and it works surprisingly well for all three of them."
"In the last hearing you advocated that Eric Beale and his mother stay in the same household. Do you still abide to your previous evaluation?" Michael Dumont asked, watching closely as the social worker straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.
"Yes I do," Elliot answered without hesitation, voice steady with conviction. "I press my point that the dynamic between Eric and his mother is highly beneficial for both of them."
"Can you explain your assessment from a psychological standpoint?"
"As you are well aware, Your Honor, I'm not a psychologist by any means, but I will try to clarify my decision," Lynch reminded the Judge, locked eyes with the older man and waited for the nod of approval. Lowering his gaze to the opened file on front of him he skimmed the notes in search of an opening. "It's well known already that Mrs. Beale has Alzheimer's disease. It's a medical condition that doesn't simply appear out of nowhere, but one that progresses slowly over a longer period of time. Mrs. Beale lived with the disease for years now and we shouldn't forget that Eric lived with her for the whole time and therefore lived with her disease as well," the social worker began. He grabbed for the water glass standing on the podium and took a sip before continuing.
"Over the past four years their roles shifted gradually until they reached a point of complete reversal. It happened slowly and continuously and Eric adapted to each and every change, be it ever so small, as it came. He found ways to cope with them, developed strategies to work with those changes and integrated them in their everyday life. What I'm saying is, he grew into the role of the caretaker step by step, not by a sudden turn of events. By now they are comfortable in their reversed roles. It's almost natural to them. Both Eric and his mother rely on their current dynamic." Mr. Lynch adjusted his stance and looked at the Judge when he was finished, waiting.
The Judge rubbed his chin in contemplation and wrote down some notes before he addressed him again. "I understand. However, as you pointed out the disease progresses and Mrs. Beale will be in need of even more extensive care in the foreseeable future. Do you think Mr. Beale is able to handle this?"
"Yes, Your Honor. Her additional needs will demand even more of Eric, both physically and mentally, of course. But we saw his unique way of communication with her, his patience, his empathy and his bravery. He isn't afraid to take charge in situations like these. I've witnessed two similar episodes during my visitations and Eric handled the situation with care and delicacy. His mother always responded well to his strategies, which proves once more just how well-oiled they work together. We shouldn't underestimate the strength of family bonds either. Eric is Mrs. Beale's confidant, the only constant in her life for the past years aside from Emma. She relies on him, trusts him, and needs him. Even when memory fails her, her heart still knows that Eric is there with her. She would lose herself at a much faster rate, if Eric wasn't right beside her, guiding her every step of the way."
"Thank you for your explication, Mr. Lynch. No more questions for now," the Judge dismissed the social worker, who gathered his notes with a simple nod and retreated to his seat. Checking on his own paperwork Judge Dumont continued, "As there are no more witnesses pertinent to the guardianship of Mrs. Bettina Beale I call upon a short recess. We will meet here again in fifteen minutes from now."
Everyone in the courtroom rose from their chairs upon orders of the bailiff as Michael Dumont closed his file and left the courtroom, robe flailing behind him.
I know that I left you guys hanging and that I have no right to ask you this, but I still haven't gotten my groove back, so any word of encouragement is highly appreciated.
- S.