Promises to Keep (35 page)
“Everybody take a seat. If there’s not enough to go around, too bad. You’ll have to stand.” In his chambers, Benson Perdue settled his large frame behind his desk.
“Let’s get this over with. Mr. Sheffield and Mr. Louden, Ms. Findley, I assume you all know what this impromptu conference is about?” When the Quincy attorneys merely looked confused, Perdue sighed, and turned to Muriel. “All right, Ms. Findley. You’re up.”
With a quick glance at Travis, Muriel began, “Your Honor, you wanted to know what Mrs. Quincy could have used as a threat against the Turner family—”
“I know what I requested, Counselor. Now, why doesn’t somebody just give me the answer?” Perdue barked.
“Your Honor, may I speak?” Travis asked.
The judge gestured with his hand. “By all means.”
Travis cleared his throat. “My mother hates the Turners, Your Honor, because years ago when she was just fifteen, Henry Turner’s father, Franklin Turner, sexually abused her repeatedly—”
“
Travis, you will be silent
.” His mother half-rose from her seat and hissed at him.
“Mrs. Quincy, you never mentioned this,” Sheffield sputtered at her, trying to catch hold of her arm. She pushed him away.
“Mother, it needs to be told. It’s festered inside you for far too long,” Travis pleaded.
“It has
nothing
to do with how horrible that girl is as a mother to my grandson,” she spat.
“It has
everything
to do with your opinion of me and my family, Mrs. Quincy,” Annie protested.
“
Shut up
! Good God Almighty, can’t I get a straight answer when I ask for one?” Perdue looked ready to pitch all of them out the door. “Everyone sit down, and stay there. You,” he pointed to Sheffield, “can shut up as well. And you,” his finger swung toward Annie, “young lady, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you, either. Now, sit.” He waited until his commands were obeyed, then gestured to Travis. “As I said before, let’s hear it. You have ten minutes, so make it count.”
It took roughly seven minutes. Travis kept to the facts and reiterated those with as much straightforward economy as he could. At one point, his mother covered her face with both hands and didn’t pull away when Sheffield placed a bracing arm around her. And by the end of it, Annie as well as Muriel blinked away tears.
“Anything else to add?” Perdue asked. Throughout the telling of it, his expression hadn’t altered one iota. It was impossible for Travis to gauge what the judge might be thinking.
“No, Your Honor. That’s about it.” Travis started when he felt Annie’s hand squeeze his. He hadn’t realized he’d clung to her shoulder for dear life.
“All right. I’m going to extend the recess by ten additional minutes, while I give this latest information my attention and thought. I will make my ruling presently. You’re all excused, and will repair to the courtroom.”
Judge Perdue cast his black eyes around the room. “But, before you all leave, let me just say this.” He settled on Travis’s mother first. “Mrs. Quincy, it was extremely unfortunate that you had to endure such a crime, and at such a young age. There is no ready excuse nor condoning what was done to you. However, if you had reported it at the time, I believe valuable counseling could have been arranged for you to help you past the pain of your ordeal. That you chose to conceal it for all these years, tells me you need closure badly. My advice to you is to get yourself into counseling, the sooner the better.”
Travis was certain Perdue’s gruffness hid his very genuine concern over the wife of his good friend. But his mother sat ramrod straight in her chair and refused to acknowledge the judge’s words. Only her eyes seemed alive, and they were a blistering blue.
With a sigh, Perdue regarded Annie. “Miss Turner, this episode of your family history must be difficult for you to accept. Maybe you’re afraid there might be repercussions, should this information about your grandfather become public knowledge. But in a court of law, the sins of the father stay with the father and are not visited upon his children. Your own father need not worry about his good reputation. The law doesn’t bend that way.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” It was a husky whisper. “And thank you, in my daddy’s name.”
Judge Perdue stood, and the attorneys jumped to their feet. He addressed them all. “Counsel will take this information as background evidence inasmuch as it applies to the plaintiff’s mindset, because that’s exactly what it is. I trust the three of you will use some common sense while you’re at it. Dismissed.” He waved everyone toward the door. “Ah, Mr. Quincy? A moment, please.” Perdue motioned to Travis, who obediently remained behind while everyone else shuffled out.
“Take a seat, Travis, I won’t be long-winded.” The judge gestured to the chair nearest his desk and Travis sat down, trying not to feel too much panic.
“Relax, son. I just wanted to thank you for this additional information. I have often felt—well, it doesn’t matter. Your story does go a ways toward helping me to understand somewhat better. Now,” Perdue took a pad and pen, and scribbled a few lines, “I am writing down the name and number of an excellent therapist who focuses on the victims of sexual crimes and deviant behavior. She’s sympathetic and knowledgeable and holds several three-month counseling sessions a year. I think the sooner you get your mother into one of these sessions, the better.” He ripped off the note and handed it to Travis, who folded it into his pocket.
“I’ll try, Judge Perdue. I really will. But if you know anything about my mother, you also know how stubborn she is.”
Perdue chuffed out a brief chuckle. “Oh, yes. That I
do
know. Nevertheless, see what you can accomplish with her.”
Benson Perdue adjusted his robes and slipped on a pair of thick-rimmed reading glasses. He sorted through the papers in his hands one more time, before he raised his head and fixed that intensity on the two groups in front of him. Travis gripped Annie’s hand.
“In my experience,” Perdue began, “custody cases are amongst the toughest of domestic disputes. Someone wins, someone loses. If we are lucky, the children involved are always on the winning side, and we as public servants have done the right thing, made the best choice for that young life.
“I made a choice today, one I feel is in the best interest of the child, Henry Travis Turner. After weighing evidence, such as it is, and hearing from everyone concerned, I have made my decision based on what has been proven. I see no evidence that Annie Turner, or her fiancé, Travis Quincy, are anything other than good parents, therefore they shall retain full custody of their minor child, Henry Travis Turner.”
He paused for a second as Annie turned to Travis and flung her arms around his neck, then rapped his gavel sharply to dispel the congratulatory rumble already forming. “Order, please, I’m not finished. Annie and Travis,” Perdue eyed them over the rim of his reading glasses, “I trust you won’t mind a visit from County Child Welfare once in a while, say, quarterly, for a period of one year. Said visit not to exceed one hour, for the purpose of verifying the child care progress of Henry Travis Turner. Unannounced visits,” he clarified.
“No, Your Honor. I mean, yes, Your Honor. I mean, visits are fine,” Annie stammered out.
“Good. Child Welfare will be happy to hear of it,” Perdue retorted dryly, and unbent enough to bestow a smile on them.
He glanced over at Travis’s mother, who stood as if turned to stone between the hapless attorneys assigned to her. “Mrs. Quincy, your son and future daughter-in-law will be randomly visited within the next twelve months, to assure they are taking proper care of your grandson, Henry Travis Turner. I trust this will appease your worry concerning your grandson’s well-being. I am sure you’d like to set some kind of visitation schedule in motion, and I am certain Travis and Annie will find it within their hearts and in the child’s best interests to allow his grandmother access now and then. Court is adjourned.”
With a slam of his gavel, Perdue brought everyone to their feet. He stepped down from his bench and strode out the door. Behind him in the courtroom, the Turner family hugged Annie, and slapped Travis on the back before taking turns hugging him, too.
While Mary Turner kissed his cheek, Travis couldn’t help but look over at his mother, as she stood and tugged on pale leather gloves as creamy and delicate as her own skin. She smoothed them carefully, tucked her purse under her arm, and swept from the courtroom without so much as a glance his way. Travis refused to feel guilty for the judge’s decision. But he couldn’t deny the piercing hurt, deep inside. He couldn’t help but feel he’d just become an orphan.
“Let’s get out of here, huh?” Henry slung his arm over Travis’s shoulder. “I know two little boys who are very anxious to see the family. And I’d bet you anything there’s a few pies in the refrigerator, compliments of Aunt Nan.” He winked at his sister-in-law, and a rosy flush stole over her cheeks.
“Pie? Why on earth would I make you a pie, Henry Turner? You think all those ingredients grow on trees?” She huffed her way toward the courtroom’s double doors.
The gown hung in Mary’s closet. She rounded the corner toward her bedroom and smiled when she saw the door wide open and Annie mooning over it for about the fourth time that day.
Mary and Annie had both scolded Nan, but Mary knew her sister would do as she pleased, and it had pleased her to buy Annie a wedding gown. A few days ago Nan drove to Thompkin and laid it in Annie’s arms. While Annie cried on her shoulder in reaction to the lovely dress, Nan had cuddled her close and whispered gruffly, “Every bride deserves the gown of her dreams.”
“But the cost, Aunt Nan—” Annie tried to protest.
“Oh, faddle. Haven’t you ever heard of clearance sales, my girl?” Mary looked on, amused, as Nan gave Annie’s ear a quick tweak. “I went to Bridal Palace, over in that newfangled mall. They were practically giving their gowns away. And as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was meant for you.”
Nan plucked a hankie out of her pocket and wiped Annie’s tears. “You can still have your daisy bouquet, if you must be thrifty. If we can find decent springtime daisies by now. They don’t grow on trees, you know.” That now-standard line was just what Annie needed to turn the sob in her throat to a watery snicker. She hugged Nan again, fiercely, then caught Mary around the neck and squeezed her, too.
Mary could have sewn a simple gown in just a few days with minimal expense. The last thing she knew her baby girl wanted was to burden anyone with wedding costs they couldn’t afford. Annie would marry the man she loved and nothing else was more important.
But the dress
was
perfect. Simple in design, the heart-shaped neckline slipped off Annie’s shoulders at just the right spot. Small, dainty cap sleeves showcased her slender arms and the fitted bodice curved into a dropped waist, which erupted into a flutter of scalloped chiffon panels. The back panels lengthened to form a subtle train. There wasn’t any beading. No seed pearls. Instead, its very simplicity made it special.
When Mary came up behind Annie, she already had the protective bag unzipped and was sighing yet again over the chiffon panels. “Caught you! How many times have you looked at it today?” Mary snagged her at the waist.
Annie leaned her head back on Mary’s shoulder. “Once or twice.” That understatement earned her a pinch, and Annie giggled. “Okay, four or five times. I can’t stop myself. It’s so beautiful, Mama.” She turned to face Mary. “Aunt Nan said it was on clearance, but this time of year, why would a bridal shop have a sale like that?”
Thoughtfully, Mary tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. Annie was nobody’s fool. She’d told Nan as much when her sister called from the mall in Roanoke and announced she’d found the perfect dress for Annie.
“You know how set Annie is against you spending your money, Nan.” Mary spoke softly so Annie, upstairs with Hank, wouldn’t overhear her.