Page 88 of Finding Home

I glance at the judge, my heart thumping. She’s stone-faced, but I feel like we landed a strong punch with this guy. The only question is whether it was aknockoutpunch or merely a flesh wound.

“Let’s take a fifteen-minute break,” the judge says. “When we return, we’ll hear from the court-appointed experts.”

Chapter 33

Caleb

Islowly let out the breath it feels like I’ve been holding for five minutes, as it becomes clearer and clearer the first court-appointed witness of the afternoon, a psychiatrist, thinks I’m minimally fit to be Raine’s father. I’m not perfect, the guy makes clear. Not going to win Father of the Year. I’ve got a “short fuse.” Could use some anger management counseling to help me learn some “coping strategies.” But, hey, considering all the shit my sister said about me during her testimony, I feel like the negative stuff the doctor says about me a) doesn’t outweigh his ultimate rubber stamp; and b) most likely doesn’t come as a big surprise to the judge, anyway.

When the psychiatrist gets to talking about Aubrey, however, it’s a totally different story. She’s well adjusted. Caring and kind. “Even-keeled and patient.” In fact, according to him, Aubrey Capshaw’s got a temperament that’s “highly conducive” to being a “loving, rock-solid custodial guardian” for Raine. Of course, every word he says about her matches my own assessment. I wasn’t exaggeratingwhen I told the judge Aubrey’s the best person I know.

The doctor finally gets around to providing his expert opinion regarding Ralph Beaumont, and the second he starts talking, I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. In fact, on the notepad between Aubrey and me on the table, I scribble the words,Pay dirt.

In summary, the fine doctor testifies that Ralph “appears to check several boxes on the PCL-R”—the test for “all forms of psychopathy;” and therefore, according to the doc, it’s “highly possible” Ralph is a narcissist. “I’d need further time and some more information to form a firm diagnosis about that, however,” the doctor adds, much to my chagrin. “I am, however, willing to testify that Mr. Beaumont most certainly displays antisocial behaviors and a callous lack of concern for others.”

“You’re a quack!” Ralph shouts.

Aubrey begins furiously writing something on the notepad, but she stops when the judge declares, “I warned you, Mr. Beaumont, that another outburst wouldn’t be tolerated.” She motions to a nearby bailiff, a brawny guy with a porn mustache. “Remove him, please, Officer Frank.”

“Yes, your honor.”

Another bailiff joins the first in descending upon Ralph; and a moment later, he’s removed from the courtroom, practically kicking and screaming, while pretty much everyone in the courtroom looks on at the spectacle with brazen satisfaction.

When the three men have disappeared through the big door at the back of the courtroom, and the somber room has fallen silent again, the judge returns calmly to the psychiatrist on the witness stand and prompts him to continue, which he does. I’m not listening closely to rest,though. I’m buzzing way too much about what just happened to concentrate. From what I pick up, here and there, though, it seems like this guy’s remaining testimony is a ringing endorsement of Aubrey and an “I guess so” endorsement of me.

Next up, the court-appointed social worker takes the stand—the woman I’ve been shitting my pants over, ever since I spirited Raine away from that duck pond meetup in violation of the court’s order. But to my intense relief, it quickly becomes clear I’ve got nothing to worry about with this stern woman. That in fact, much to my surprise, she’s very much in my corner.

“Mr. Baumgarten’s bond with the child appeared to me to be warm, loving, and stable,” the social worker says. “Same with Miss Capshaw’s bond with the child. It’s worth noting that, during my alone-time with the child, she expressed love for both of them.”

Aubrey and I exchange a smile, not even trying to hide our mutual affection and excitement about this particular testimony.

“Please provide further details about what happened during your alone-time with the child,” the judge directs.

The social worker checks her notes and says, “I played dolls with her, during which I asked her to place dolls and stuffed animals at a table for a tea party, with each doll representing a family member. And after that, someone she loves.” She looks at the judge. “This was after she said she loves her ‘Dadda’ and her ‘Aubbey.’ She said that, on her own, unprompted, while I was asking her if she likes living in her new home.” As the judge makes a note, the social worker continues, her eyes forward, once again, “In both scenarios—family and people she loves—the child set up the same array of dolls and animals: ones representing hermother, Mr. Baumgarten—‘Dadda;’ Miss Capshaw—‘Aubbey;’ and both Miss Capshaw’s parents—'Grammy and Pop-Pop.’” She shifts in her chair. “After that, I widened the net. Told the child to invite everyone shelikesto our tea party, which then included her Auntie Miranda and several cartoon characters. After that, I asked for everyone the childknows.But no matter my prompt, the child never mentioned Mr. Beaumont. I therefore feel confident in concluding the child doesn’t know Mr. Beaumont and is wholly unaware of his existence.”

Boom,I scribble on the notepad between Aubrey and me.

That’s our girl, taking care of biz-nass,Aubrey writes in reply.

Like her kickass Aubbey.

And her kickass Dadda.

We’re not supposed to smile in court, and we know that; but we flash each other beaming smiles, anyway, if only for a moment.

“To be clear, this exchange happenedbeforethe court-ordered meetup at the park,” the social worker adds, and our smiles vanish.

Fuck,I write.Here we go.

“Tell me exactly what happened at that meetup,” the judge says. “I have your declaration in the paperwork but tell me the events leading up to Mr. Baumgarten refusing to hand over the child for the evaluation.”

Shit, shit, shit.I hold my breath, as dread overtakes me and the woman sets the stage. But soon, it’s clear I’ve got nothing to worry about on this topic, either.

“Ralph Beaumont became combative during the interaction, your honor, and the child became increasingly hysterical and terrified. Mr. Baumgarten had adifficult decision to make that day, and it’s my opinion he made the one that was in his child’s best interest—the one a loving, fit father would make.”

The social worker looks at me with a neutral poker face; but if I’m not mistaken, her eyes are smiling at me.

The social worker continues, “I recognize that Mr. Baumgarten violated your order, your honor, and therefore did something wrong; but he also did something very right, in terms of safeguarding his child’s safety and wellbeing. I was honestly impressed by his decision that day, your honor. Also, by the commitment he’s showed to making his child’s new home as happy and welcoming, as possible.”

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