DEFEATED. THERE WASno other way to describe how Mason was feeling. A social worker had taken Layla and he was sitting in a courtroom listening to his mother’s lawyer talk about every mistake Mason had ever made as a youth, as a teenager and as an adult. His life, which he thought was pretty decent, was being picked apart as if he were a criminal offender.
Pictures of Layla’s head wound were up on a screen and had been for the past several minutes. Mr. Thomas had whispered that they were being left up in order to keep the accident in the judge’s mind.
Mason’s parents were sitting on the other side of the courtroom, his mother pristine and smug.
Mason had never felt such an intense dislike for anyone in his life as he did for his mother right then and there. His mind had slowly been opening the last month to his mother’s machinations, but seeing her there, her eyes to the front and her hands folded so primly in her lap while her lawyer argued about her son’s incompetence, was almost more than Mason could stand.
Crew’s lecture the other day came to mind. Where he said that Mason liked to control things...like their mother. Aimee had said Mason was kinder, and Mason found himself grateful for that, but the longer he sat in the courtroom, the more he was determined to make the differences between his mother and himself even greater.
He wanted to be the complete opposite of the woman in every way, shape and form. He wanted to learn to let go of his control and live life to the fullest. He didn’t want to just be kind, he wanted to have full compassion and charity for everyone around him. If he managed to take Layla home, he wouldn’t worry about the small messes. He would take pictures when she had food smeared in her hair. He would laugh with her when she knocked over the tower of blocks.
And the next time a woman hands me her heart, I’ll treasure it as if my life depends on it.
His own heart sank. He wasn’t sure any females would be in his life ever. The case wasn’t going well and Harper was gone. Half of Mason’s heart was already destroyed and if Layla was taken too, he wasn’t sure how he was going to survive. And there’d be no way he could approach Harper after losing his niece.
Even if she could forgive him for being horrible to her, how could she forgive him for losing custody?
“Your Honor,” Mr. Thomas said, interrupting another long speech from Mr. Thornbull. “I fail to see how Mr. Mason Turley’s seventh grade report card has any bearing on our hearing today.”
“It shows a lack of initiative, Your Honor,” Mr. Thornbull said quickly. “A history of slothfulness which undermines his ability to take care of a child.”
“He was only a child himself,” Mr. Thomas argued.
The judge held up his hand. “You’ll have a chance to offer your side, Counselor,” he said to Mr. Thomas. The judge looked at Mr. Thornbull. “Having said that, I recommend you stick with only those facts which are pertinent, Counselor Thornbull.”
Mr. Thornbull nodded, then cast a smug grin at Mason’s table. “Thank you, Your Honor.” And then he was off again, talking about Mason’s delinquent middle school years.
The door to the room opened and Mason glanced back to see Crew slip inside. He walked softly to the front and took a chair next to Mr. Thomas, whispering something to him.
Mr. Thomas nodded and whispered back.
Mason waited until they were done. “What’s going on?”
“We might have caught a break,” Mr. Thomas said.
“Counselor Thomas?”
The table looked up at the judge. “Yes, Your Honor?”
“Is there something you wish to share?” the older man asked with a raise of his bushy eyebrows.
“Not yet, Your Honor.”
The judge nodded. “Then perhaps you could offer Counselor Thornbull enough respect to be quiet during his presentation?”
“Of course, Your Honor.”
Mason felt a nerve ticking in his jaw and saw a corresponding one on Mr. Thomas. This judge hadn’t been overly friendly since they walked in this morning. It felt as if he was against Mason before they’d even met and it didn’t bode well for their keeping the will in tact.
But what did Crew say to Mr. Thomas?
Whatever it was, not knowing was bugging Mason. The whole situation had been falling apart and if they had something good, Mason wanted to know. He looked back to see Ethan, Jayden and Gavin all waiting for their chance to speak on his behalf. They offered him small smiles, which Mason returned. He was grateful they were there, but it was hard to have them listen to every mistake he’d ever made in his life. He’d be lucky if they didn’t turn on him by the time they answered questions.
“Thank you, Counselor,” the judge said, leaning back lazily in his seat. “Counselor Thomas...here is your opportunity.”
Mr. Thornbull sat down and whispered with Mason’s parents for a few moments before settling into his seat confidently.
Mason tore his eyes away when his father looked over. There was something decidedly sad in his dad’s eyes. Like he was apologizing for their mother, but it was too late for that. They were in court and Timothy Turley had apparently decided not to keep his wife from cutting ties with all their children.
Any respect Mason had had for his dad began to wither. While ultimately, Patricia Turley was her own woman, making her own decisions, sitting by his wife’s side meant he supported her, which also meant he didn’t support his children.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Mr. Thomas said, standing. “We’d like to present a few character witnesses, if you please.” He turned around. “Mr. Ethan Markle, will you please come forward?”
Ethan gave Mason a discreet wink as he walked up and was sworn in.
The questioning began and Mason sighed in relief when Ethan worked hard to make Mason sound as good as possible. Mason owed his friend a steak dinner out. Probably several of them.
Slowly, the minutes continued to tick by as Mr. Thomas worked. He led Ethan through scenarios and memories they had planned out ahead of time, sharing Mason’s strengths and trying to avoid his weaknesses.
The whole process was tedious and slow and from the look on the judge’s face, Mason also felt like it wasn’t working. The judge looked ready to fall asleep, instead of being interested in anything the defense had to say.
“Does the prosecution have anything to ask?” the judge finally remarked, letting Mason know he was awake.
“Not at this time,” Mr. Thornbull said, rising slightly from his chair.
Mason blew out a breath. Good. Maybe the stories from his friends would stick if Mr. Thornbull didn’t pick it all apart. Because right now, this was the only thing he had going in his favor.
His hand curled into a fist on his lap. He’d already lost one woman he loved... He prayed that heaven would let him keep the other.