“My client is seeking visitation with her niece since her brother is no longer here to be a part of her life. She has also made claims that Mrs. Blackmoor is unfit to raise the infant.”
“On what grounds?” The judge queried, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “I have reviewed the case thoroughly.We cannot base these accusations on the fact that Ms. Sipes simply does not care for the defendant. The child has been in her mother and father’s care since the day she was born. I don’t see any complaints?—”
“With all due respect, your honor, my brother is that baby’s father. Not Moses Blackmoor. He’s a criminal. I don’t want my niece growing up around that element.”
“Well, Ms. Sipes, Mrs. Blackmoor has submitted evidence of her own pertaining to your brother’s criminal record. One would say that maybe he wasn’t a civilized citizen himself, no?” Judge Barker suggested, silencing her.
Shalice shot daggers toward Coast, who had the support of her husband behind her in the seats. Mozzi wasn’t worried about shit as he scrolled through his phone. Shalice wasn’t getting what she wanted. She had him all the way fucked up. Supervised visitation was as far as he was willing to take this, and that was a stretch.
“My brother is dead! And I’m pretty sure her husband is the reason why!”
“Do you have any evidence that can back up this claim?” the judge queried.
“No, but?—”
“Then it is unfounded,” he declared. “I understand being upset and wanting a relationship with your family. So, I am suggesting a visitation schedule. Twice a month, with supervision, and a mediator will be assigned to the case to assist with setting up the schedule between the two of you. For the sake of the child, I hope that the adults in her life can come to some kind of amicable agreement.”
“Supervised?” Shalice repeated, an incredulous frown crowding her face.
“For now. We can revisit other options at a later date, say one year from today.”
“A year!” Shalice spat. “How is that fair?”
“Ms. Sipes, the child is an infant. Her well-being and care are tied up in her mother right now. There is no reason to believe that Mr. and Mrs. Blackmoor are a threat in any way. Therefore, you need to respect their position and figure out if holding a grudge is more important than having a relationship with the child. As I said, we can reconvene in one year. If anything changes, you may petition the court for another hearing. Are we clear?” Judge Barker looked between the two parties and their attorneys.
Shalice looked like she wanted to spit fire. Although Coast hated having to allow her child around the woman, she was glad that it would all be supervised, and she only had to deal with her a few times a month. Satisfied with the results, Mozzi peered over at Iara sleeping soundly in her car seat beside him. She’d slept through the entire thing with her purple binky dangling from her mouth.
Judge Barker banged his gavel and dismissed them. Sighing, Coast stood, swiping the pleated pants leg of her two-piece ivory suit and sighed.
“So, that’s it?” she asked, looking to their attorney, Lincoln Byers, expectantly.
“As of now, yes.” Lincoln nodded.
He was older, maybe early fifties, very debonair in his Tom Ford suit and Rolex on his wrist. Coast got street vibes from him, but Lincoln concealed it well with his Ivy League education.
“This is a win, Coast. A compromise. You think you can manage that?” he asked, hiking a brow as Mozzi stood with the handle to Iara’s car seat in his hand.
“I guess. I just don’t trust her.”
“This is the reason for the supervised visits. I understand your concerns. When I get the information for your mediator, I will reach out to you so you can prepare to set up a schedule forShalice to see Iara. It can be neutral ground. You don’t have to invite her into your home or anything like that.”
“She wasn’t welcome anyway,” Coast muttered. “Thanks for everything.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Lincoln nodded to both her and Mozzi and excused himself.
“You ready?” Mozzi looked at his wife.
She peered down at her beautiful sleeping baby girl in her pink and white two-piece Dior set and forced a smile over her lips. Sleep deprived and nursing, Coast was more than ready to take off the heels, makeup, and everything else so she could throw on some sweats and relax. She felt like she’d been walking in a fog over the last few months. The doctor warned her about possible postpartum depression, but she chopped that up to some bullshit. She told herself every day that she was fine, but sometimes she looked at Iara, and aside from breastfeeding, didn’t feel much of a connection to her. She adored Mozzi, though. He could get her to stop crying instantly and make her smile. Coast felt like she was always doing something wrong.
“What’s wrong?” Mozzi steered them along toward home and glanced at his wife staring out the window like she had a lot on her mind.
She’d been very withdrawn lately. He knew the custody shit was fucking with her. Dr. Thorne had warned them about postpartum symptoms, but he didn’t give it much thought because Coast seemed to be fine other than sleeping a lot. She wasn’t in much of a mood to go out lately. Even today, she had to mentally prepare herself for this court appearance. Now he was wondering if it was more than the stress from having to deal with Shalice.
“Nothing. I’m just tired,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes focused on what was going on outside her window.
“Trouble, a nigga know you better than you think. Talk to your man.”
“I said I’m fine, Moses,” she huffed.
