Should Have Known Better

“Now, this ruling was difficult,” the judge said. “Here in family court, we try to keep the best interests of the children at the center of what we do—even when the parents don’t.” He looked over at me and I was sure I’d be back at McDonald’s the next weekend. “But,” he went on, “any parent knows that no parent is perfect. We make mistakes. We fail. We try to do better. Even when we should’ve known better. Mrs. Johnson, I’ve looked over all of the interviews from your children’s teachers and their pediatricians, even some parents of their friends. And they all say you’re an outstanding mother. Now, your actions say otherwise, but your reaction to this situation is very impressive. Counselor, what information do we have to solidify your client’s claims that she’s able to support her children?”

Right then, Reginald stood up and shouted, “She can’t. She has nowhere to live and she doesn’t have a job!”

His attorney pulled him to his seat as the judge warned that he’d lock Reginald up if he had one more outburst in his courtroom.

“Judge Bruner, my client is currently living with her mother in a four-bedroom house in Atlanta,” my lawyer explained. “She’s been placed on a leave of absence from her job with the Augusta Public Library System until she resolves this matter of guardianship and is able to return home to find suitable housing. In the meantime, her mother has pledged to support her daughter and grandchildren. She has part time work.”

“Is this true, ma’am?” the judge asked, looking at my mother.

“Yes, sir, your honor.”

“Well, with all of this information, I believe it’s in the best interests of the children that they be returned to their mother until a final custody hearing following the divorce petition.”

“Wait!” Reginald jumped up again. “She’s on drugs. I know it!”

“Mr. Johnson, please have a seat,” the judge said unamused. “Please don’t make me lock you up today.”

Reginald’s attorney grabbed him quickly. They argued and Reginald stared over at me with a pointed finger.

I felt like sunshine. I hadn’t won the war, but this battle was coming to a close.

“Thank you,” I said, hugging my lawyer. “Thank you so much.”

I ran out of the courtroom and gathered the twins together like they were two hours old and still able to fit together in my arms.

“We’re going home?” R. J. asked, but I could tell by his voice he meant the house in Augusta. Reginald had already changed the locks and had a letter sent to the attorney saying I couldn’t enter the residence. I was surprised by this action, but I guessed what the women at HHNFH said about people in divorce was true: it brought out the best and worst in people (but mostly the worst).

“We’re going to Grandma’s house,” I explained to R. J. “You remember her house? With the garden out back?”

“I want to go back to my park,” he said. “I miss my park.”

“I know, baby,” I said. “We’ll go back there soon.”

“What is going on?” Sasha demanded, trying to snatch R. J. from my arms. “You can’t have these kids. They’re mine.”

“Hardly,” said one of the court officers, pulling Sasha back. “I need you to back away from these people and let them leave.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Sasha pulled away from the officer.

Reginald walked out of the courtroom with his attorney and said good-bye to R. J. and Cheyenne before the officer escorted them into a waiting room with my mother.

“What happened, Reggie?” Sasha asked dramatically.

“I don’t know. . . . The judge had all of these lies Dawn filled—”

“No, no!” I jumped in. “The judge had the truth and that’s why I got my kids back.”

“So! Do you think this is going to change anything between Reggie and me?” Sasha said spitefully after quickly getting over the fact that I was taking the children. “We’re still going to be together.” She jumped in my face and whispered in my ear, “You can have those bad-ass kids, anyway. They were tearing up my damn house. Cheyenne and that attitude. R. J. and those freaking outbursts. I’d never have kids like that. I just want the man.”

I pulled back my arm to punch Sasha, but my attorney caught me and started pulling me away.

“You know, I hated the idea of that, but the more I think about it, the more I don’t care,” I said. “I guess we’ll just talk about that in court.” I pulled away from the attorney and stepped closer to Reginald. “You do know what they call that in court? Adultery? Sound familiar? And there’s no need to talk about what happens to adulterers in divorce settlements. . . . Guess I’ll be moving back to Augusta faster than you think.”

“You’ll have to prove it first,” Sasha shouted as Reginald stood there looking stunned by my threat.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll need to prove it in court—” I stepped up to Sasha and whispered in her ear, “But even if I can’t prove it there, there’s a new public courtroom today: it’s called the Internet. And I plan to start a full-on campaign to air every piece of your dirty laundry to every person who will listen. You don’t need proof for that. Just an e-mail account.”

Sasha looked like she was about to faint.