“Yeah, sorry.”
"Listen, this should be open and shut. You're CJ's closest living relative. There's no father listed on the birth certificate. You're gainfully employed, have plenty of help, and a supportive family." She heaved a deep sigh. "But you and I know it isn't always that simple."
I nodded. My birth mother requested for me to be adopted by the family that had practically raised me for six years, but it wasn't good enough for the state. I was shuffled around to foster homes with parents deemed more "suitable" by the courts, which really meant they were white. When none of those worked out, they sent me to live with my birth mother's relatives in Missouri, even after she wrote several letters to the judge asking him to let me stay in New York.
I ran away from Missouri after a few months with help from Kimberly, and my parents filed complaints, orders of protection, and a couple of lawsuits until they were legally able to adopt me. It took a lot of time, money, and effort. I know my parents sacrificed a lot to keep me, but they never made me feel like I wasn't worth the effort. Every day of my life was spent trying to prove them right.
The idea of having to deal with even half of what my parents went through scared me shitless. CJ had only been with me for three months, but I couldn't imagine my life without him.
"Cole, I need to tell you something." Susan always had a no-nonsense demeanor, but her facade cracked a little before she continued. "Judge Tomlinson got himself assigned to your hearing."
I furrowed my brow. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“He’s the judge that sent you to Missouri.”
Recognition, coupled with a white-hot rage, infused every pore of my skin as I remembered his old, pale, and jowly face as I screamed and cried in his courtroom. It was fifteen years ago, but I remembered it like it was yesterday.
Mom had bought me a new suit, just like the ones Dad wore to court, and I was ready to sit on the stand to convince the judge that I belonged with my family. He had no interest in my testimony, told the court I was too young to understand, and that I needed to be with "my own people" and how happy my family—people I'd never met—would be to raise me. I didn't help matters by charging the bench intent on climbing up there and beating the shit out of him. But I was ten and still scrawny. The bailiff snatched me around the waist when I'd barely made it a few feet and lifted me off the floor; clawing, kicking, and swearing.
I had a lot of anger issues back then. Common sense should have dictated that living in a stable family environment under the constant care of a lawyer and psychiatrist would be the best place for me, but common sense doesn’t come with a law degree.
"I tried to file in a way that would make it less likely for him to be assigned, but the rumor is that he went out of his way to get on this case. Of course, we can't prove it. Trying to get him reassigned could backfire. So, we may have a fight on our hands, and frankly, I have a few scores to settle with him."
“How the hell is he still on the bench?”
"We couldn't prove that race was a factor in his decision to send you to Missouri and deny your parents’ petition for adoption, and since his negligence didn't result in your death…"
“So, I should’ve died to get his ass removed from the bench.”
"It would've made my job easier," she chuckled, and I joined her. "Look, I don't foresee any problems, but I'm going to dot every I and cross every T on this one. I feel like I owe it to you." She put a motherly hand on my forearm. I had no idea Susan Charing carried this with her all this time.
"You don't owe me anything. If anyone should understand how hard your job is, it's me. I know you did your best, and everything worked out in the end."
“Thank you for saying that, Cole.” She looked at me and gave me a small smile, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
"So, we never talked about payment. I think I have enough in my savings for a retainer, but—" Susan interrupted me with a pat on my arm.
“Cole, I’m doing this pro bono. I’ve already talked to Bryce. You’re family. Your dad was always very kind to me when I was just starting out. He gave me opportunities the other associates wouldn’t, never talked down to me, and I always felt confident coming to him for advice. I wouldn’t be the lawyer I am today without him. I wished I could have served you better fifteen years ago, but I’m glad I have the opportunity now.”
"I don't know what to say." Hiring Lisa took a big chunk out of my take-home salary, and I knew that adopting CJ was going to be expensive. I worried about how I would manage it and had considered a second mortgage on the brownstone. Now, I didn't have to.
"Just say thank you and let's get to work." She smiled, and the sadness in her eyes was replaced by a predatory glint, resembling the Susan Charing I was used to seeing. "Is that him?" She pointed through the glass panel wall of the conference room we were occupying at Lisa pushing CJ in his stroller.
Judy and a few of the receptionists stopped her at the desk. They were fawning over CJ, but when I noticed Judy trying to engage Lisa in conversation, I knew it was time to intervene.
“Hey.” I jogged over to the reception desk. I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to touch, hug, or kiss Lisa, but I somehow held it together. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
"I just used the good old Manhattan grid system." She smirked, and I narrowed my eyes at her, smiling.
“We’re in here.” I motioned for her to follow me into the conference room.
“Lisa,” Judy called after us. “It’s nice to meet you.”
"You too, Judy." She grinned as I ushered her away from the desk. I glared at Judy. She just raised her eyebrows and smiled. I could only imagine the office gossip that would come from Lisa and CJ's brief appearance.
I introduced Lisa and Susan. We chatted about CJ’s case after I assured her that I was comfortable discussing the details in front of Lisa. It was also possible that she would be called to testify.
A woman in scrubs came into the room, holding a medical kit. First, she swabbed CJ's and my cheeks, and then she pulled out a set of needles, tubes, and vials. I looked at Susan.
