Top Dog

“That’s us,” my lawyer said. “Wrap it up.”

“I have to go. Can this wait?” I asked.

“You’ll figure it out in court. And you’re welcome. I expect payment in my account by the end of the day. Give your family my regards.”

I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but I didn’t have time to figure it out. I turned my phone on silent and placed it back in my pocket. Amanda was holding her hand out for me, and my lawyer was staring me down. It was time to go and face the asshole that was trying to shake me down and using Lanie to do it.

We walked down the hallway and slipped into the small courtroom. It wasn’t like the courtroom I imagined it would be. It was small, with no room for any sort of audience or jury to sit and observe. Amanda and I followed my lawyer to one of the desks, and we sat down. The only person sitting at the other desk was a lawyer.

A lawyer who didn’t have any sort of briefcase or files with him.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Macon C. Clemmons.”

“Everyone stay seated. I have a full schedule today, and I’m ready to get this over with,” the judge said.

I shot my lawyer a look, but he seemed unconcerned. Was this the kind of judge we wanted presiding over my niece’s fucking custody case? Someone who just wanted to ‘get this over with’? I felt Amanda squeeze my hand as her eyes scanned my body.

“Relax,” she said in a whisper.

“I see there’s a suit for custody as well as a counter-suit for custody. I’ll start with the people who are actually here. Mr. Brian Murphy. Why do you feel you deserve custody of Lanie Murphy?” the judge asked.

“Because I’m her uncle. I’ve been taking care of her for the past year. I have a stable home, a stable income, and a family that loves her,” I said.

“Any history of drugs or alcohol in the home?”

“No, your honor,” I said.

“And who is this?” the judge asked, motioning toward Amanda.

“My fiance, your honor.”

“How long have you been in the household with Mr. Murphy and the child in question?” the judge asked.

“A few months, though it’s been more permanent the past couple of weeks,” Amanda said.

I took in her story and committed it to memory in case I was questioned about it later.

“And how long have the two of you been engaged? I see here there was paperwork filed for a marriage license last week?”

”About two weeks, your honor. We knew right away that we wanted to spend our lives together, but

Brian wanted to make sure that I was the right person to be around Lanie first before we made it official,” she said.

“And how do you and Lanie get along?” the judge asked.

“Famously,” Amanda said, beaming. “I couldn’t love that little girl any more than if she were my own flesh and blood.”

Amanda was handling this like a champ. I was so incredibly proud of her, and grateful. The judge continued to throw questions at us while he shot the lone lawyer curious glances. But once the judge was done, he was not only sold on our story but so was I. We answered those questions as if we had been together for years. The stories rolled right off our tongue and the way Amanda spoke about me lit up her eyes.

No one could fake that kind of shit if they tried.

“Okay, Mr. Bergeron. Where’s your client?” the judge asked.

“My client was arrested early this morning.”

“On what grounds?” the judge asked.

“Use of methamphetamines and domestic abuse, Your Honor.”