A/N: I am so terribly sorry for the long wait. I don't even have an excuse except that my life has been incredibly busy (and will be even busier once April rolls around). If you haven't lost interest in the story already I hope to at least make it up to you guys with the length of this chapter. It's over 11,000 words long, longer than any chapter (or standalone) I have ever written in my life.
According to my beta and dear friend Dubigail you need to have tissues handy. So grab some before you sit down. Without further ado, enjoy the chapter.
August 16, 2000
Katherine Baker was waiting outside and scanned the people pouring out if the courtroom one by one. She had been the first to leave the room, Mrs. Beale and Emma in tow, and was now waiting for the third family member to emerge. It didn't take long for the teenager to step into the hallway with slow and heavy steps. His chest rose then fell as he heaved a long sigh and his shoulders dropped when he released the air from his lungs. Eric came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, eyes transfixed on something in the distance. Katherine tried to follow his gaze but failed to identify what had captured his interest so instead focused back on the young man.
To anyone else he would appear confident and determined, especially after the show he had delivered earlier in court. The older woman knew better, though. Looking right through his façade she could clearly see that he was plagued by uncertainty and vulnerability. He was exhausted and tense and most likely second-guessing himself judging by the clouded look on his face. Katherine shook her head in concern. With deliberate steps she moved over in his direction, extending a hand to brush it against his shoulder in a comforting gesture. The youth jumped at the unexpected touch, but as soon as he recognized that Kathy was the one interrupting his thoughts he allowed a fleeting sheepish smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but the older woman cut him off before he had a chance to.
"I sent your mother and Emma off to the restroom. I figured you might need a few minutes to regroup." She said it with casualness but there was an underlying motherly omniscience. Katherine seemed to know exactly what Eric needed right now. "Come on," she urged, placed her hands on his shoulders and gently steered him over to a quiet corner away from the rest of the crowd, shielding him from any onlookers.
"How are you holding up?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to get a better angle at his face and, more importantly, his eyes. His chin was currently resting on his chest, making the task just a little bit harder for her.
Eric slumped against the grey walls of the hallway and blew out another breath. "I don't know," he answered truthfully and raised his head to meet her eyes. "Things aren't exactly going according to plan." His voice was tight and his facial features hardened in concentration.
"No they are not," Kathy agreed. "But they rarely ever do."
The chuckle that escaped his mouth was dry and bitter and reminded them both of just how many times those words had rung true for the blonde in the last years. "Don't I know it," Eric snorted and threw his head back.
"But you're doing an awesome job in there, Eric," Katherine reminded him, waving in the general direction of the courtroom. He moved his head an inch and raised one eyebrow at her in skepticism. Katherine sighed internally when she noticed the display of self-doubt on his face. "You do. Everyone was impressed and touched when you took care of your mother in there, I can tell." The blonde grimaced and shook his head ever so slightly. "Nuh-uh, I'm not having that look, young man. Believe this old woman for once. You set an example in there, maybe even reminded some of the people of ethical values that they have forgotten about a long time ago."
The teenager blushed and a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed passed it and spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "Kathy…" The woman held up a finger, a silent warning not to object. Eric closed his mouth again, pressing his lips together tightly. "I… uh, thank you," he finally managed to blurt out. Katherine nodded, pleased that he chose not to argue with her. She spread her arms just a little and the lanky youth stepped into the offered embrace, drawing much needed strength from her. It felt safe to close his eyes for just a second, so he did, and concentrated on his breathing: inhaling deeply through his nose, holding the air in for a few seconds and exhaling through is mouth.
He was startled by a sudden commotion in the hallway. He opened his eyes and searched the crowd to see what was going on, which proved to be a difficult task from where they were standing, but he caught a glimpse of two police officers walking down the hall and headed in their general direction, pushing a third man ahead of them. He couldn't see the third man's face yet as the other people gathered outside the courtroom obstructing his view.
"I can walk on my own, thank you very much," the unidentified man growled through clenched teeth at the two men sandwiching him. He struggled against the bruising grip they had on his biceps but it only caused them to tighten their hold. "I'm not a criminal," the escorted man tried again once he realized that his previous words remained uncommented, "and you have no right to treat me in such a way!"
"No offense, but we do have the right," one of the officers replied monotonously, annoyance etched in his voice. "Now move it." He left his explanation at that and nudged the resisting man towards the courtroom door.
Eric craned his neck to get a better angle at the trio of men. As the uniforms pushed the third through the door said man hesitated and let his eyes roam the crowd. It was in that instance that the youth managed to catch a glimpse at his face. The sight caused his airways to constrict painfully and for a moment he forgot to breath. He hadn't seen him in almost ten years but he'd always recognize the man. He'd recognize him anywhere.
"Dad!" Eric felt as if someone had pulled the rug from under his feet. He clung tightly to Katherine's blazer in fear that his legs would give out under him but the feeling only lasted a few seconds. Then he found enough strength in form of anger. He wriggled out of Katherine's embrace. The sudden need to walk up to his old man and confront him was overwhelming. Without a second thought he tried to push passed the older woman but hadn't counted on her sharp reflexes. She made the connection almost instantly and realized his intentions before he had the chance to act on them. Her arm shot out and blocked his path, cornering the teenager in the corner of the hallway to prevent him from doing something rash.
"No, Eric. Don't," she admonished quietly, softly. "You don't want to do this, believe me." Her right arm tightened around his midsection and moved in his field of vision, effectively breaking his line of sight. With blinking eyes and slightly parted lips Eric relented and looked at Kathy again. His hands, Kathy noticed, were shaking slightly and all the color had left his face due to the shock of seeing his father. Not a good sign.
"What is he doing here?" he rasped, frowned and shook his head disbelievingly. "This can't be happening. It can't," he continued, his voice trembling more and more. He felt like he was losing it, like he was close to a panic attack that he couldn't fend off and it was the worst possible moment too. "What am I supposed to do now? This is changing everything." He wasn't even talking to Katherine anymore, lost in his own head. But her soothing yet firm voice pulled him out of his thoughts and back to reality.
"Just breathe, Eric. Your father has to be present for this. Mr. Lynch explained as much to you. It's merely a formality but it doesn't mean anything right now, you hear me?" Eric visibly swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded absentmindedly. "Hey!" Kathy snapped a finger in front of his face to get his full attention. "Did you hear what I just said, Eric?"
The teenager finally looked back up at her with a haunted expression. He chewed his bottom lip nervously before answering. "Yes, I heard you."
"Good. If you want to win this you need to keep your head in the game, both for your mother and your sister." Eric rubbed his forehead as if in pain and nodded. "Speaking of them, there they are." Katherine gave a small nod in the general direction. Watching her protégé closely she noticed the sudden change of demeanor. It was as if someone had pulled a switch. In a matter of seconds the insecurity and panic was gone and replaced by an air of confidence and determination that always surrounded him when he was around his mother and sister. The older woman shook her head in sadness. Eric shouldn't have to hide his true feelings like that, but she understood why he did it.
Before anyone had a chance to speak the bailiff appeared in the hallway and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "The recess is over. Please return to the courtroom and take your seats. The hearing will be continued shortly."
As soon as he was back in the courtroom Eric felt even more on edge than he had in the hallway. His whole body was tense, his arms and shoulders ached from the constant strain and he felt like some of his muscles might snap if he strained them just a tad more. If not he'd at least have a serious case of muscle soreness later. But with his father's presence and all the worst case scenarios running through his head he found himself unable to relax. The teenager couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that something was about to go terribly wrong.
A tug on his right shirt sleeve startled the blonde out of his reverie. He shuddered and shook his head to get rid of the nagging feeling before turning to his sister. She was leaning forward in her seat and straining her head to get a better a glance at something, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What's wrong, Emma?"
The girl didn't even lift her eyes to look at him, just asked out of the blue, "Who is that?" Eric followed her gaze to the left side of the courtroom, an uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach, and immediately recognized what had drawn her attention. He stifled a groan as he spotted one of the police officers and his father. A quick sweep of the room with his eyes told him that the other officer was guarding the door at the back. As if on cue Emma spoke again. "And why is the police here?"
The emancipated youth shifted in his seat uncomfortably and coughed once, stalling for time to think of a response. When he looked at her again her eyebrows were arched in expectation and her head tilted slightly forward and to the right. He licked his parched lips and opened his mouth, gaping like a fish for a brief moment. Just as he was about to make a sound he was interrupted by the bailiff clearing his throat and asking them to rise.
Eric complied, sighing in relief. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. But he could still feel Emma's eyes on him and he knew she wouldn't let this slide. She would push for an answer regardless of the hearing, so to prevent her from disrupting anything later he tried to placate her in the only way he knew without raising more questions. "You'll find out soon enough," he whispered in her direction, praying to the Gods he didn't believe in that it would keep her off his back for now. It seemed to do the trick and he was able to turn his attention back to the front of the courtroom just in time to see the judge approach his desk with long confident strides.
"You may be seated," echoed from the walls and was followed the shuffling of chairs and rustling of clothes as everyone sat down again. "We are now continuing with the second subject of today's hearing: Emma Beale. As of right now she is still under the sole care of her mother Mrs. Bettina Beale, but assuming that her brother will be declared Mrs. Beale's legal guardian, which is yet to be determined, Mrs. Beale no longer has custody over her. Mr. Beale petitioned to be her guardian as well. I ask Eric Bartholomew Beale III to the podium once more."
Almost on autopilot the youth rose from his seat, straightened his clothes with one swift motion of his hands and walked up to the stand. The whole procedure was becoming too familiar, he noticed, and he felt more and more confident every time he had to walk the twenty steps from his chair to the witness stand. However, the pressure on his shoulders increased exponentially as well as he was getting closer and closer to the final adjudication. His father's presence only added to that. 'Your father has to be present for this. It's merely a formality.' Katherine's words rang in his ears. Only he knew it wasn't. Now that they had found his father and brought him to court it was plain obvious that the man would be questioned as well and was considered a potential custodian of Emma. The man held all the power to blow his chances.
Eric sucked in one last deep breath and shook his head against the negative thoughts before he took the last three steps to the podium with all the confidence he could muster. He had sworn to himself that he would fight for his family. He had made it this far, he would not give up now. Straightening his back and holding his chin high he nodded to the Judge. It was time to face the man's final set of questions. "Your Honor."
"Mr. Beale, please recount the reasons that led to your decision to apply for guardianship over your sister." The judge's voice was filled with the same sobriety that had intimidated Eric when he had stepped behind the witness stand for the first time two weeks ago. But it didn't affect him in that way anymore. It had an almost soothing effect on him instead.
"You already mentioned one of the reasons yourself, Your Honor," the teenager began "Should I receive guardianship over my mother, Emma in theory, would become a child of the state. Needless to say, I want to prevent that. But first and foremost I want to keep the family together and I am willing to step up to make that happen," Eric explained matter-of-factly, voice clear and steady.
"Most everyone present has been witness to your investment in your family's farewell and you have elucidated just how important the bond of family is to you. Your determination isn't lost on me or anyone else for that matter. But are you aware of the immense pressure you assert on yourself with the task of guardianship of a child?" Michael Dumont expressly underlined his doubts.
The blonde didn't even twitch at the insistent tone, just firmly stood his ground. "I would like to think that yes I am. I have had a part in taking care of and raising my sister ever since my mother developed first signs of Alzheimer's and my responsibilities for her have gradually grown since then. I'm basically raising her myself by now."
"Your sister is still a minor, ten years of age if I remember correctly," the judge briefly scanned his files to make sure he had it right. "It's only a matter of time before she reaches puberty. Adolescence will bring another set of challenges. How do you plan to accommodate those additional responsibilities with the care of your mother and your own academic obligations? Are you prepared to approach all of that at once, especially with the definite knowledge that your mother's health will decline in the foreseeable future?"
Eric shifted ever so slightly, indicating that he didn't like how the judge was pushing for details now. He had kept his questions light so far, only scratching the surface to get the bare minimum of information that he needed to make his decisions. Now it felt like he was deliberately looking for weaknesses, touching the subjects that were a little too close to home for him. To say it made him uncomfortable was an understatement, but he tried hard not to let it show. Wetting his dry lips he answered calmly. "In the last years I accepted every challenge that I was confronted with as it came. I did my best to adjust to the situation I was in at the given time. I wasn't prepared for any of the changes but I learned to exhaust all the resources that were available to me, be it literature from the libraries, brochures from support centers or simply the knowledge and insight of family friends," he narrated in a low and sober tone. "Am I prepared for the challenges that lie ahead of me? To be honest with you, no I'm not." He looked straight at the judge, ignoring the sudden rustling and bustling from the seats behind him. "Personally I don't think anyone would ever be prepared for that kind of responsibility." Eric paused again, letting the words sink in for a brief moment before continuing again. "But if you are asking if I am willing to accept them anyway, then the answer is yes. I know I have a lot of resources on my hands and that they are willing to help me out if things get rough."
The Judge's chest rose and fell with a suppressed sigh followed by a moment of silence. "I admire your determination to follow through with this, Mr. Beale. But there is a whole lot of other tasks that you would have to take care of. As a legal guardian you would be responsible for all school matters. There's also the financial aspect that is going to be an issue: medical expenses, paying for all sorts of personal items and clothes your sister needs, afterschool activities she might want to take a part in and school trips she might want to go on. All of the above combined are an immense financial burden. How do you propose covering for all that with the minimum wages of a part time job?"
Biting the insides of his cheeks hard to keep from letting those words scare him, he refused to show any emotion at all. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears when he answered. "Some of it will be covered by the child support my father has to pay for her. I'll take care of everything else with the money that I earn. I'm aware that it's going to be challenging to manage with the low budget but it's only a temporary situation until I graduate high school in two years and can take on a fulltime job. Meanwhile I will have to make it work with what I have."
Michael Dumont merely nodded at the almost mechanical response as he realized that the youth had his mind set and wouldn't cave under any question that he possibly had in store for him. Therefore he didn't see a point in asking the teenager anything else. Putting his pen down on the file the judge leaned back in his chair and dismiss the brave young man with a final glance. "Alright, Mr. Beale. I have no more questions for you. You may be seated."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Eric nodded once and retreated to his chair in between his mother and sister, feeling strangely detached from everything around him. It was as if someone had cut the wire that connected his emotions to the rest of his body to shield him from the inner turmoil of seeing his father for the first time in over ten years, in court no less. Once seated again he stared straight ahead, waiting for the inevitable, the not so surprising occurrence that he dreaded ever since the man had appeared in the hallway during recess.
"Inquiries have been made into the whereabouts of Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale II., the biological father of Emma Beale. Unfortunately social services were unable to contact him before our last meeting but he has been located and was brought here today, which gives us the opportunity to question him. Mr. Beale II., please come forward," Judge Dumont scanned the courtroom for the man in question and waited for him to rise from his chair and walk over to the podium. The reluctance was blatantly obvious. There was an air of authority and arrogance surrounding the broad shouldered man, and the perfectly tailored expensive charcoal suit he was wearing screamed money.
"It's a pleasure, Your Honor." The dissembling respectful greeting was almost painful to listen to and its phoniness made Eric shudder. His father sighed exaggeratedly and continued talking before the judge had a chance to say anything in return. "Look, Your Honor, I have no idea why I'm here," he started pathetically. "These two officers back there showed up at my house this morning and escorted me here against my will. I was too paralyzed to even ask what was happening or I would have called my lawyer. You see, I'm a very busy man and every minute that I'm held here is tantamount to a financial loss for my company. The damages to my business could be devastating." He rubbed his upper lip. "What I mean to say is that I would appreciate it if I was given an explanation as to what is going on here and why my presence is needed here."
The Judge pinned the man with a look of disapproval and answered calmly. "Mr. Beale, if you had read the paperwork that has been sent to you along with the notice for the hearing you wouldn't have to ask for an explanation. All your answers are in said paperwork." Eric's father opened his mouth to disagree, but Michael Dumont held up his hand to stop him. "Hear me out, Mr. Beale. If you want to know the contents of the letter word by word you will have the time to read it after the hearing. What you need to know right now is that your son was emancipated recently and by recently I mean two weeks ago. He is now requesting guardianship of his mother and his younger sister due to an incurable medical condition your wife is having."
A frown appeared on the businessman's forehead and his voice sounded just a bit dreadful as he voiced his interest. "What kind of medical condition are we talking about?"
"Your former wife is suffering from Alzheimer's disease," the Judge revealed without beating around the bush. He was met with silence.
An unreadable expression crossed the man's face. He lowered his head and covered his mouth with one hand. The news was unexpected and seemed to affect him more than he would like to admit. To say his reaction surprised Eric was an understatement, but the teenager didn't allow himself to be fooled into thinking that his father cared all that much. Mr. Beale regained his composure quickly to give a verbal response as well, which was contradictory to his initial reaction, the thickness of his voice the only indicator that he was indeed shocked. "That's unfortunate." He cleared his throat and continued as if nothing had happened. "I still can't follow, though. Why am I needed here? My ex-wife made it clear ten years ago that I have no place in this family anymore. I don't think anything has changed since then."
"If you had payed attention in the past fifteen minutes you wouldn't have to ask," the Judge scolded. "The reason why you were requested to attend this hearing is that your daughter Emma is still a minor and needs parental supervision. We are obligated to exhaust all the possibilities available to us in order to decide what's in the best interest of the child."
Mr. Beale nodded contemplatively with squinted eyes. "I see," he pondered. "So what do you need to know? I'm happy to answer your questions, Your Honor, but like I said I'm a busy man and I am needed back at my company. I would prefer if we get this over and done with so I can go back to business." He spoke in a way that suggested that he was the one in charge of the conversation as he was used to being the leading act.
His self-importance left a sour taste in the Judge's mouth and led to him putting the man in his place once and for all. "Mr. Beale," Michael Dumont addressed forcibly. "It would have saved us all a lot of time if you had just read the paperwork. Given the fact that you haven't, you have only yourself to blame for causing yourself any inconvenience." He pierced Mr. Beale with a long hard glare. "This hearing is going to take as long as it takes and your attendance is required until I issued my final judgement, regardless of your business obligations. Do you understand?" the Judge urged, voice dangerously low. He still kept eye contact with him, waiting for him to drop the attitude.
There was a moment of silence with both men just staring at one another. After what seemed like an eternity Eric's father had the decency to look away ruefully. He cleared his throat in discomfort and relented, his voice hoarse and almost sheepish when he spoke. "Understood, Your Honor."
Michael Dumont gave a nod of approval and bridged to the topic at hand with a tone that indicated he was all business again. "Let's move on to the case. Minutes ago you stated that you, I quote, 'have no place in this family anymore'. Please elaborate, what do you mean by that?"
The businessman shifted ever so slightly from one foot to the other, gripping the wooden edge of the podium tighter. "I meant exactly what I said. I am not a part of the family anymore," Eric's father answered curtly, a husky sound to his voice. "My ex-wife requested sole custody not long after I had run off and she received custody for obvious reasons."
Propping his left elbow up on his desk while holding a pen in his hand, the Judge regarded him with a creased forehead. "Why did you leave the family in the first place?"
"Look, um…" The man scratched his neck, growing more and more uncomfortable with the line of questioning. "I was in a tough spot back then. I was still young and not ready to face the responsibilities of being a father of two. It sounds like a lame excuse and frankly, it is a lame excuse. I wasn't ready when my son was born and, being aware of my fears, my ex-wife and I agreed on not having another child. Then she told me she was pregnant again and wanted to keep the baby in spite of our agreements. I was shocked, I was angry and I was afraid. It was the most inopportune moment too, because I had just started my own business and had my hands full with that. I was overwhelmed and couldn't deal with the news, which is why I bolted before Bettina delivered the baby. And when she received sole custody I was happy to get out of the responsibilities the easy way. Having to pay child support seemed like a small price to pay. I only later realized that I had sacrificed so much more than that."
"Have you felt the desire to reunite with your family, especially with your children? If so, have you attempted to contact them?" the Judge inquired, his voice completely void of prejudices.
Mr. Beale lowered his head to avoid eye contact with Judge Dumont. "I have wanted to contact them many times. I hate to admit it, but ten years ago I was young and selfish to think about the repercussions of my behavior." He rubbed his chin with his index and middle finger. "This might sound like a cliché but it's true that there's absolutely nothing that prepares you for parenthood. Being a parent means giving up your freedom and committing to the child for the rest of your life. I wasn't willing to do that yet, but I learned my lesson. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Bettina decided to take that irreversible step of cutting me off of raising my kids. I decided to keep my distance and didn't attempt to reach out. I know I should have tried anyway but the right moment to do it never came."
The Judge studied the man over the rim of his glasses. "As a result, you have never met your daughter, is that correct?" Michael Dumont drew his conclusions from the man's explications.
"That would be correct, Your Honor," Eric's father admitted ruefully. "But I am not averse to meeting her, you have to understand that. I'm not against reconnecting with my son and my ex-wife either. I know I haven't been a flag-ship family man, but one of the rules I live by is that everyone deserves a second chance. And I am willing to prove that I deserve a second chance with my family."
With a look of indifference the Judge pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. "Your realizations seem rather sudden. Please explain to me, Mr. Beale, why ten minutes ago you were eager to leave the court room as soon as possible and now you are pleading to get an opportunity to make amends for poor decisions you made a decade ago."
Mr. Beale folded his hands and braced them against the podium, studying them briefly before locking eyes with the Judge. "When I was escorted here earlier today I wasn't aware of the situation at hand. I thought this was just another ploy of my ex-wife. That this was some sick distorted revenge of hers for leaving her alone with two kids. The thought left a sour taste in my mouth and I was a bit angry. But now that I know the real reason I'm here…" He released a long suffering sigh before he continued with a voice that was drenched in cloying sentimentality. "Everything I learned today was a shock to me. Bettina has Alzheimer's disease, my son was emancipated, my daughter on the verge of being a child of the state. I realize that I might actually get another bite at the cherry so to say. I might get another chance at being a father. My family needs me now and I'm not going to turn my back on them a second time."
With a crease of sorrow on his forehead Eric's father shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for them in the past years, especially for my son to decide that he wanted to be emancipated. And now he's preparing to take on guardianship over his mother and sister at the tender age of fifteen? I know I have had no part in this, but I'm proud of him and of his accomplishments."
Eric, in his chair, turned a deep shade of red. But it wasn't the praise flustering him, it was a feeling that he very rarely experienced: anger. He had been agitated a couple times before but he had never acted on it and he wouldn't now either. The words and the honeyed voice with which he said them infuriated him nevertheless. How dared the man be proud of him when he didn't even know what he had accomplished when he couldn't even remember his actual age?
"Fourteen." The teenager stiffened as soon as the single word echoed through the courtroom and for a brief moment he wondered if it had escaped his mouth. In truth it was the Judge speaking.
"I'm sorry?"
"Your son is fourteen, not fifteen," the Judge repeated calmly. Eric released the breath he was holding, relieved that he hadn't disturbed the hearing with an unchecked remark and impressed that the Judge was so accurate about his age.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. It's a little too much to take it all in at once. I can hardly think straight anymore," Mr. Beale apologized sheepishly and huffed a semi-embarrassed laugh that had Eric's skin crawl and his ears buzz painfully. He felt if he had to listen to his father's smooth-talking much longer his eardrums might eventually burst. "Anyhow, if there is a way to take some of that burden off of my son's shoulders I'm more than happy to do that. My son is just a child himself. He shouldn't have to do this on his own."
"What kind of support are you offering, Mr. Beale?" Judge Dumont demanded, ignoring the other man fishing for sympathy, much to Eric's liking. Mr. Beale was very much oblivious to it though and continued in the same manner.
"That depends on what my son needs and wants. He must have put a lot of thought in this before he applied for guardianship and probably thinks he's prepared for what he is facing or he wouldn't have taken this step. While I'm proud to see that my son grew into such a strong-willed kid I fear that he might not be aware of what's ahead of him. I don't want to thwart his plans but my son might not have the means to tackle all of this at once. I on the other hand can provide both the financial and accommodational needs of my daughter. And those of my ex-wife as well if needed. If I can help my son out with that I'm happy to do that." He finished off with a sickly sweet smile. "That's only if my son wants it. I don't want to stick my nose into his business."
"Well, thank you Mr. Beale. That is all for now. You may return to your seat," the Judge dismissed Eric's father, then turned to address the police officers that were still stationed near the exit and in the row where Mr. Beale sat. "Gentlemen, I think it's safe to say that your presence is no longer needed. You may leave the courtroom."
The officer who had been sitting next to Mr. Beale rose from his chair, smoothened the wrinkles in his uniform and bowed his head respectfully. Squeezing through the narrow row of chairs he walked over to his partner and with a lazy salute to the Judge they vanished into the hallway.
As soon as the courtroom returned to silence Judge Dumont picked up where he had left off. "We have one more character witness with vital insight into the case from a professional point of view, but before I call him up to the stand I would like to listen to the subject of our hearing," he began and let his eyes roam over the small crowd gathered in the room. "Emma Beale, would you please come to the podium for me?" he addressed the girl in question.
The request caught the girl completely off guard and her eyes grew wide with fear, flitting over to her older brother for support. Eric had told her that it was likely that the judge would want to ask her a few questions, especially considering her age but he had also mentioned that it wasn't necessarily the case. Ducking her head she tried to make herself invisible to the intimidating man, her hand searching for Eric's. His reaction was instinctual as he grabbed her trembling one and squeezed. He tilted his head and locked eyes with her. "Go ahead, Emma," he encouraged her, a warm smile on his lips. "You'll be fine." The ten year-old glanced at him through quizzical eyes, clearly unconvinced.
Michael Dumont cleared his throat to get the siblings' attention. "Emma, if you don't feel comfortable talking in front of everyone here we could talk in private." Her eyes broke away from Eric and regarded the judge instead. She pressed her lips together tightly, not daring to say a word. "Do you want to talk in private, Emma?" Still tongue-tied the girl shook her head, her blonde curls flying from one side to the other.
Eric nudged her shoulder ever so slightly. "Hey you can do it. It's okay," he spurred her on, hoping to give her a boost of confidence. He patted her hand and jerked his head in the direction of the witness stand while sporting a crooked smile. It seemed to do the trick. Some of the anxiety left her body and she finally found the courage to rise from the wooden chair. Emma walked to the front of the room, albeit slowly and with a level of uncertainty. Stepping behind the stand she sucked in her bottom lip, gripped the edge of the podium tightly and glanced up at the judge with shy eyes.
Sensing her discomfort the Judge removed his glasses and relaxed his facial features into a friendly smile as not to appear as a threat to the child. "You don't need to be afraid of me, Emma. I just want to ask a few questions, nothing more. If there's a question you don't feel comfortable with just let me know and we will skip that one, alright?"
Emma nodded, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Okay," she answered in a small voice, unable to hide her insecurity but who could blame her? Being in court was an unpleasant experience for most everyone. For a child to be thrown into a situation like this it could be downright terrifying.
Directing another encouraging smile at her, the Judge continued. "Good. There's one more thing." He didn't miss the frightened look in Emma's eyes. "I need you to answer my questions truthfully but I'm sure you already know that, am I right?"
The girl suddenly freed herself from the fetters of fear and her mood changed completely. "Yes, I know that. Eric told me like a billion times that I'm not supposed to lie in court. Well duh, people shouldn't lie outside of court either. People shouldn't lie period," she said in an all-knowing voice, wrinkled her nose in distaste and rolled her eyes.
Michael Dumont smirked and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth. "I agree. People shouldn't lie." Emma beamed at the affirmative compliment and raised her chin up proudly. It was a tremendous relief for Eric to see his sister warm up to the Judge so fast, knowing that once she did that it was easy to get her to talk. The robe-clad man seemed to be aware of this as well and grabbed the opportunity. "Are you ready to answer my questions, Emma?"
"Uh-huh," the ten year-old nodded eagerly. She stood up taller behind the stand and watched the judge with curiosity, lips slightly parted and eyes wide awake and focused.
"Alright, let's begin," Judge Dumont repeated unnecessarily and put his glasses back on to scan through his notes quickly before discarding them again and locking eyes with the blonde child. "Your brother obviously talked to you about the hearing before you came here, so you probably know why you're here today, don't you?"
She nodded again, causing a few strand of hair to fall in her face. She brushed them behind her ear with ease. "Yes, I know." Some of the previous eagerness left her voice again, the question obviously dampening her mood again. Another strand found its way in front of her face and this time she ignored it. "Eric wants to take mom's place."
The Judge raised his eyebrows at her. "Is that what he told you?" he inquired.
Emma looked up. "No, of course he didn't. But I'm not a dumb. I can put two and two together. Eric always wants to tell me what to do. But I guess he just can't do that legally without your approval." She pouted in frustration and looked away from the Judge. In his chair, the teenager in question tried to keep his emotions in check.
"Yes and no." Michael Dumont waited for the girl to make eye contact with him again. "What your brother wants is called legal guardianship. It means that he wants to be the one who makes all the important decisions in your life and your mother's life as well."
"Yeah whatever." She shrugged her shoulders with feigned indifference and hid her face behind a curtain of blonde curls.
"You don't seem too happy about that development. May I ask why?" The Judge asked with honest interest.
Emma's head snapped up at that and there was an angry scowl drawn on her face. "Well yeah, obviously I'm not happy. Eric has no right to tell me what to do. He's my brother. He's not mom and he certainly has no right to act like he's my dad either." She forced out sulkily and crossed her arms defensively.
With an understanding expression the Judge nodded in realization that the girl across from him didn't seem to understand the whole situation as much as she thought she did. A ten year-old couldn't possibly grasp the amount of information that she was presented with. It was all very confusing for her. He needed to approach with delicacy, taking this one step after another in hopes of making her see how everything from his brother's emancipation to her mother's illness and the request for guardianship was connected. "Emma," he addressed her, patiently waiting for her to look at him. "Two weeks ago, your brother was here in court already. Do you know why?"
She looked almost bored at the question but answered regardless. "I know Eric was emancipated," she stated matter-of-factly, but didn't elaborate any further.
Judge Dumont nodded approvingly. "That's right. Do you understand what the word means?" He inquired carefully.
He was met with another roll of her eyes. "Yes. It means that he can make all the decisions about his own life on his own and doesn't have to ask mom or another adult for permission anymore. He's independent," she recited knowingly.
The Judge smiled warmly at her. "That's a very accurate explanation. You are very smart for your age, Emma." The girl grinned confidently. "Do you know why your brother took that step too?"
Almost instantly the grin vanished. She lowered her head and studied the grains in the wood of the podium. "Because mom is sick and she's not always in her right mind to make the right decisions?" She raised her voice at the last word making it sound like a question even though she knew she had the answer right.
"That's correct." Michael Dumont reinforced the words with a sympathetic nod. "You might not feel that way, but whenever your brother tells you what to do it's for the exact same reason. He knows that your mom is unable to make reasonable decisions sometimes so he feels obligated to make those decisions instead. He doesn't do it because he wants to but because someone has to and because no-one else is around to do it." He let the words sink in. Emma blanched slightly and her shoulders slumped but she didn't say anything. "I understand if you don't always like what your brother says. But if I had to guess I would assume that you didn't always agree with what your mother had to say either. Isn't that right?"
Emma's Adam's apple bopped as she swallowed. She nodded sheepishly. "Yes," she admitted as a faint blush creeped up her cheeks in shame.
The judge rubbed his chin with his flat hand. "That's what I thought. I'm going to tell you a secret, Emma. While you don't always like what people say and what they decide in your behalf I can assure you one thing: moms and dads and even brothers don't always like what they have to tell you either. But they don't always have a choice. They just want what's best for you, even if it means getting on your bad side for a while." The ten year-old frowned as she tried to process what he had just told her. "You seem very smart for your age. If I'm not mistaken you already knew what I just told you, didn't you?" She confirmed it with another nod. "But you still aren't happy that your brother stepped up, are you?" he voiced his suspicions.
Shuffling her feet and chewing on her upper lip guiltily Emma refused to meet the Judge's eyes. She stayed silent for a while and for a brief moment it appeared as if she wasn't going to answer the question at all. When she finally looked up and opened her mouth, her voice quivered with unshed tears, her tone sullen. "Eric is the best big brother I could ever imagine. He always helps me with school and he plays games with me whenever he can. But he hasn't done that in a while. He's always busy with work. Or he's taking care of adult stuff. And when he isn't busy he's just ordering me around." She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "He's no fun anymore. I don't like the way he's acting all grown-up all of a sudden. I just want my brother back."
A shiver ran down Eric's spine upon hearing those words and he hugged his arms around his middle protectively. It was a stab with a sharp blade and it pierced right through his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from crying and swallowed repeatedly to get rid of the lump that obstructed his airway. How could he have missed his sister's pain? How could he have neglected her feelings like that? He felt like he had failed her.
"Your brother has a lot of responsibilities now. He didn't have them before and it's putting a lot of pressure on him." The Judge folded his hands and braced his elbows on the desk, leaning forward with a content smile gracing his lips. "But there might be a way for you to help him lift some of the burdens off of his shoulders."
The curly-haired girl regarded him with a suspicious look, a puzzled expression on her face. "How?" For a one-syllable three-letter word it was laden with a plethora of questions in the way Emma voiced it almost pleadingly.
Leaning back in his chair the judge masked his face with an encouraging smile. "I would like to introduce you to someone, who might be able to support you and your brother in this difficult time." He schooled his voice, almost asking the next part. "Someone you were curious about for quite some time, possibly."
"Who?" She voiced in another single-worded question, choked with emotion. It was a clear indicator that the whole situation took its toll on her. It was just too much, too overwhelming for a child her age. And yet, she was doing an impressive job at keeping herself together, a trait that obviously ran in the family.
"You just saw him. He was questioned right before you," the Judge hinted carefully, but didn't get to finish his sentence as Emma interrupted him.
"Do you mean my father?" she blurted out unintentionally, biting the insides of her cheeks immediately after her outburst.
Thankfully, the Judge ignored her little slip-up and continued as if nothing had happened. "Yes. You have never met him before today, have you?" Eric's sister shook her head no. "I understand that seeing him for the first time today must have been a shock for you and I assume that you don't know how you feel about him yet, but would you like to get to know him a little bit better?"
Her eyes lit up briefly and there was a twitch of the right corner of her mouth. "I would like to get to know him," she confirmed but sobered right after as a thought popped into her head and had her doubt her answer. "I can still stay with mom and Eric though, right? I mean, they are my family and I love them."
Dumont smiled at her in reassurance. "Whether you will stay with your mom and Eric depends on the decision that is made at the end of the hearing, but no matter what the decision will be, you just need to remember that you are going to be able to see your mom and your brother as often as you wish, Emma." The girl nodded slowly, a few strands of hair falling into her eyes while doing so, but it was obvious that the answer didn't comfort her much. "For now I have no more questions for you, Emma. You may go back to your brother and sit down again. You've been very brave."
The ten year-old returned to her chair with mixed feelings, anxious of Eric's reaction to her confession, but when she locked eyes with him there was not even the smallest sign of disappointment or anger in his gaze, only brotherly affection and pride. And those were his true feelings as well. He wasn't angry or disappointed. Instead he felt guilty for causing her all that pain and not being there for her enough, for putting her through the proverbial wringer of the hearing. This was bad enough for him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how it must feel for his younger sister. But she had handled herself exceptionally well and he couldn't be prouder of her for standing there in front of the judge and facing his questions on her own. And he was even more proud that she wasn't afraid to tell the truth even though it must have been hard for her to admit it knowing that he could hear her loud and clear.
Eric wrote a mental note to tell her just how proud she had made him today after court, regardless of the judge's final decision, regardless of what would happen after the hearing. For now he waited for her to get comfortable in her chair again before he moved an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "You did great, Emma," he whispered in her ear. Anything else would have to wait until after the hearing.
"Concluding the hearing with the final character witness Elliot Lynch. I ask you to the stand." The judge's words captured the siblings' attention again and they loosened their hold on each other as they watched the social worker head towards the podium.
"Your Honor."
"Mr. Lynch, in the hearing regarding Mr. Beale's emancipation you advised against Emma Beale staying under his care because you were unsure if he will be able to handle the responsibility of raising her. What is your opinion on that matter after the most recent meetings with the family?"
"Like I stated earlier the family dynamic hasn't changed much after the emancipation was through. What I noticed though is that Emma was more compliant to what her brother told her and Eric approached her on a level that was less fatherly and more brotherly. From watching them interact I had the impression that they reached a silent agreement that they would both take a step in the direction and meet halfway. However, private conversations with Emma and her own statement earlier belied that observation. It's apparent that she feels conflicted about the whole situation and I have my concerns that those emotions will boil over eventually. I'm afraid Eric isn't a very strong authority figure at this point and won't be able to cope with a difficult situation like this."
The social worker stopped for a moment in case the judge wanted him to elaborate on any of the presented insights, but there weren't any. "Please continue."
"All of the above lead me to the following conclusion. I'm positive that Eric, in due time, will grow into the role of a surrogate parent for his sister. But at this point the small age gap between Eric and Emma and the fact that Emma isn't too far away from reaching puberty I can only advice against him receiving legal guardianship over her."
"Mr. Beale II.'s presence has opened up new possibilities. After listening to his answers and Emma's reaction to him do you think placing her with him would be a reasonable alternative?"
"That depends on many factors. Considering that father and daughter have never met before it would be wise to slowly introduce them to each other, ideally with a third party present to supervise their contact and react in case something goes wrong."
"Thank you, Mr. Lynch, I have no more questions for you. You may be seated." The Judge waited for the social worker to return to his chair, and then cleared his throat before he continued talking. "With no more witnesses with relevant information to the case I call upon a short recess. I will present my decision shortly." Michael Dumont gathered his papers in a neat pile, picked them up and stood to leave the courtroom.
The courtroom was immersed in an eerie silence after the recess as everyone had taken their seats again and waited for the Judge to announce his final decision. Emma once again shifted from one butt cheek to the other while weaving her hair around her fingers and stealing glances at her older brother once every few seconds. Eric felt just as restless but did a way better job at hiding it. He pressed the palms of his hands flat on his thighs to keep his legs from bouncing nervously. His muscles were so tight that they stood out in all the places where his skin showed, namely his neck and throat and his forearms, and he strained his eyes hard enough that his pupils were almost invisible. It was almost a relief when the bailiff asked them to rise for the Judge. The teenager wiped sweaty hands in the pockets of his slacks as his eyes followed Michael Dumont move towards his desk.
"To all present, I have come to a decision on the two separated cases. The first case addressed the request for guardianship of Mrs. Bettina Beale. I hereby declare petitioner Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale III the legal guardian of Mrs. Bettina Beale."
The teenager's eyes went wide and his breath hitched, but he couldn't bring himself to feel happy yet. He needed to hear the rest first. He held his breath and pressed his jaws together tightly, hands fisted at his sides. His gaze aimed straight ahead and he blocked everything out other than the Judge and his voice.
"As for the second case, regarding the guardianship of minor Emma Beale, I have come to the decision that Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale III is not suitable for the task at this current time. Thus, his request to receive guardianship over Emma Beale is denied." Eric blinked his eyes once and his vision turned grey around the edges. It took all his willpower to keep listening to the Judge as he justified his decision. "The small age gap between Mr. Beale and his sister and the immense responsibilities that he has to take on have led me to the decision that it is in Emma's best interest that she stays with an adult. Referring to Mr. Lynch's explications I consider it the best option that Emma stays with her biological father for now. However, considering the fact that father and daughter have never met before Mr. Elliot Lynch as the social worker of the Beale family will be responsible for acquainting them step by step. In the meantime, Emma remains in her brother's care up until Mr. Lynch decides that it is safe to move her. This hearing is adjourned."
The fourteen year-old was rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to think, and unable to speak. His eyes were unfocused and so was his mind. He didn't know what to feel. Should he feel happy? Should he feel relieved? Or should he feel sad? He didn't know. He was vaguely aware of his sister calling out his name, but it sounded so far away and he wondered if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. Black dots obstructed his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head vigorously to erase them.
"Eric!" Emma's voice penetrated his hearing once more and this time it sounded much clearer. He still couldn't bring himself to speak or even look at her, but this time at least his arms cooperated enough to reach out to her and pull her to his side in reflex. She tried to wriggle free from the embrace, but he held her close and Emma eventually accepted it.
He was startled when another set of arms found its way around his midsection and hugged both him and his sister. It took a while for him to register whom they belonged to, but as soon as he did the dam broke and a single tear escaped his left eye, touched by the simple but powerful act of their mother. It was a reminder that, even a terrible disease like Alzheimer's couldn't completely destroy the person behind the shell. She was still in there somewhere. Trying to comfort her children out of pure motherly instinct, even though she had no understanding of what was going on, only attested to that and reinforced him that he had done the right thing. Family was worth fighting for, no matter the circumstance.
None of them knew how long they held onto each other, just the three of them: mother, son and daughter, but it seemed like an eternity before they let go of each other. Not completely, though, just enough so they fit through the door of the courtroom. In the hallway they were joined by Katherine again, who had decided to wait for them outside upon seeing them in their intimate moment.
Katherine's eyes moved from left to right, studying each family member individually. Mrs. Beale had a content look on her face. She looked mostly peaceful, but there was a hint of worry as if she knew that her children weren't happy right now. Emma stole glances at her brother once in a while, confusion and fear mixed with concern. Eric was the hardest to read. His face was almost blank, but there was a myriad of emotions hidden underneath.
For once Katherine could only imagine what he was feeling. She assumed he was relieved that the hearing was finally over and that he was now his mother's guardian, but she didn't know if he had processed everything else yet. If he hadn't he certainly would be devastated to realize that it was only a matter of time before Emma left to live with their father and knowing Eric the way she did she guessed he would see it as a failure on his part.
"I believe congratulations are in order," she broke through the silence that occupied the air between them. A pained expression crossed Eric's facial features, his hold on Emma instinctively tightened and his hand brushed through her hair subconsciously. He didn't say anything in return; his posture did the talking for him. It begged and screamed to be left alone with his sister and Kathy couldn't even blame him for the need for privacy. Moving to Mrs. Beale's side she hooked her arm on hers and steered her away from the two children. As she passed the older of the siblings she leaned over and whispered sympathetically. "Take as long as you need. We'll be waiting outside. Okay?"
Eric glanced at her through clouded eyes and nodded, no clarification needed as to what she was referring to. He wanted to say something but found himself tongue-tied. He didn't trust his voice anyway and Katherine didn't seem to mind. The warm encouraging smile she sent his way was lost on him though. It barely even registered with him when the older women walked away. It took that much self-control to keep it together, but it became harder and harder to do so and as soon as they were alone it slipped away completely.
In a flurried motion Eric let his hand fall away from his sister's shoulder only to turn around and draw her into a bone-crashing embrace. Emma didn't even know what hit her as her brother hitched a breath, then another one and another one. "Eric?" she called out tentatively. He buried his head in her soft hair, inhaling the scent of her sweet shampoo. Then, all of a sudden he started trembling. Only then did Emma dare move in his arms, but it only contributed to him tightening his hold. The first sob came soon after and it startled the girl, making her flinch. The ones that followed had tears well up in her own eyes. "Eric, you're scaring me," she uttered miserably, a slightly hysteric hitch to her voice. She found herself crying with him, but didn't understand why she was doing it. "Eric!" she forced out desperately. Her brother still didn't respond, just clung to her with all his might as if she was his only lifeline, which she probably was right in that moment.
They cried in unison until neither of them had any tears left. Eric felt like his head was underwater and he needed to come up in desperate need for air. He drew in a shaky breath and carefully loosened his grip, but never letting go completely, afraid that if he did his legs wouldn't carry him. He directed her to a quiet corner in the hallway, the same that Katherine had taken him to earlier. The teenager hadn't noticed the small sitting area before but the comfy looking antique settee invited him to sit down before his legs gave out on him.
A thick silence overshadowed them once more and neither Eric nor Emma dared to break it as he was trying to clear the cobwebs and regain his composure and her confused by what had just transpired between them. In the end she was the first to speak, curiosity getting the better of her.
"What's going on, Eric? What's happening?" He refused to meet her eyes, opened his mouth but no sound was coming out. "Please say something, Eric! Please!" She drew the last word out, her voice high-pitched and anguished.
"Emma," Eric breathed out and winced at the raspy voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I… I, um…" He wiped a hand over his face and then ran it through his hair, uncaring that he smeared a mix of salty tears and snot into his strands. It didn't matter anymore anyway. At a loss for words he intertwined the fingers of his other hand with Emma's, looking for confirmation that she was still there. "I'm sorry."
Looking at their joined hands the ten year-old shook her head vehemently. "Why are you sorry? What's wrong?" Her eyes were knit in concern. She had never seen her brother like this and it frightened her more than anything else ever had before.
The older sibling glanced away, his eyes scanning the hallway. It was mostly empty now, but he was surprised to see two other figures further down and, thankfully, well out of earshot. Their faces were turned away from them but it was unmistakably Mr. Lynch and shockingly his father. Even though the latter had claimed to be such a busy man he apparently had enough time to spare that he could chat with the social worker now. Although Eric couldn't possibly know who had approached who and what they were talking about.
"Eric?"
Emma's voice pulled him away from his thoughts. He mentally slapped himself for zoning out like that. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried to speak again, his voice still hoarse but more confident. "I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen," he admitted miserably. "You are going to meet dad soon," his eyes flitted back to the scene playing out in the hallway, "which is something you always wanted. Once you've got to know him well enough you're going to move in with him and live with him for a while. That's all I can say right now."
A look of disbelief decorated the child's face. "But I want to stay with you and mom," she remarked with raw conviction. "I told the judge that too and he promised I could see you as often as I want," she recalled. "Did he lie to me?"
Eric rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb, and then looked at her with bloodshot eyes, waiting for her to lock eyes with him. "No, he didn't," he reassured her. "He didn't lie to you. You can and you will see mom and me, but you're not going to live with us anymore, at least not for a while."
"Oh." Some of the confusion vanished from her expression, but it was replaced by another strong emotion, one that caught her brother by surprise: guilt. She sucked in her upper lip and chewed on it. "This is my fault. It's something I said in front of the judge, isn't it? I said I wanted to meet dad and the judge jumped to the conclusion that I wanted to live with dad. But that's not what I said. It's not what I want."
His lips twisted in a grimace. It broke his heart to hear his sister's guilt-ridden proclamation, to see her blame herself for the judge's decision. "Oh no, Emmy, none of this is your fault. It's not the Judge's either. He just thinks it's better for you to stay with dad because he can take better care of you than I do. He thinks I'm not ready to raise you," he tried to explain.
"But you are ready," Emma argued.
Eric shook his head in reply. "No. The judge is right, I'm not ready yet." I just fooled myself in thinking I was, he added in his head. Emma dissected him with her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Believe me, Emma, this is not your fault. It's nobody's fault," he reinforced.
"Then why are you so sad?" the girl pressed, her voice trembling slightly. Only now did Eric realize that his breakdown just moments earlier must have scared the bejesus out of her. He had never cried in front of her, had never been this emotional in front of her. Instead, he had always tried to hide his feelings in her presence as not to worry her. This was the first time she had seen him in a state like this.
Without a second thought he pulled her into yet another embrace, hoping that the bodily contact would not only be a comfort for him but for her as well. "I'm just sad because I wanted us to stay together, you, mom and me. Don't worry, Emmy. It's going to be fine. We're going to make things work, okay?" Emma nodded against his chest as he rubbed her back soothingly. "Mom and I will visit you every single day. We are a family and families stick together. Just remember that. Just remember that we are family."
Any type of feedback is highly appreciated.
- S.