15
Tessa
The guardian ad litemshows up for her house check, and we both make sure everything is spotless. My hands are shaking, not knowing what kind of things they will be looking at or what questions they are going to ask.
“My name is Lindsey, and I’ll be working with you today.”
“Come on in,” I say, opening the door all the way, trying not to make my nervousness obvious.
“Is Emily here? I’ll need to talk to her as well. I’d like to do that first if you don’t mind.”
I call for her to come out of the bedroom, and we all go into the dining room and sit at the table.
“This part is just me and Emily. I’ll let you know when we are done.”
Why couldn’t I be present for her questions? At first, I get upset but then realize it’s probably normal protocol. For abused kids, they are more likely to tell the truth without their parents in the room, not that I’m worried.
“What do you think she’s asking her?” Damon asks.
“Probably questions about me, her dad, and if she has any concerns about either. Who knows.”
I try to stay far enough away to where she can’t see me, but close enough to possibly be able to hear them. All I can make out is Emily laughing a couple times, and then my name. They stay in there for almost half an hour before Lindsey calls my name.
“You can go play now. I’m gonna talk to your mommy. It was nice to meet you, Emily.”
She scampers off to the living room to watch TV, and I take a seat at the table.
She pulls out some papers from a manila envelope and starts writing some things down as she asks me questions.
“How long have you lived here with”—she flips over the paper and reads—“Damon Jackson?”
“Well, we have a duplex, but haven’t been back to it since Chris showed up and threatened to take me to court.”
“I see. So will you be staying here or there?”
“We will be staying here until I feel safe enough to take her back there. He knows that place now and I don’t want something to happen again.”
She nods and continues writing my response on her little paper like I’m in a therapy session. Oh goodness, I didn’t even think about us staying at Damon’s. Would they have a problem with that?
“How long have you known Mr. Jackson?”
“A couple of months, maybe. He was one of the responding firefighters.”
“And are you guys seeing each other? Or just staying here?”
“We are seeing each other. Is that a problem?”
She doesn’t respond, but just keeps writing, and it irritates me. Why should it matter who we live with? Emily is safer here than with Chris. End of story.
“I think I have all I need. Good luck with your hearing, ma’am,” she says, getting up from the table and then shaking my hand.
Did it go well? I have no way to know until the hearing. She can’t possibly think he’s a better fit for her than me.
“I can tell you are freaking out already. Stop! Don’t get yourself worked up. The hearing is tomorrow, and we will find out some more concrete answers then. For now, let’s start dinner.”
Damon and I pull out everything needed for spaghetti and begin prepping. Emily is enthralled with the special on sharks and doesn’t want to help cook tonight.
Once dinner is finished and eaten, Emily goes to sleep early and we stay up talking. The hearing tomorrow is just to determine who will have custody of her until the final hearing. The woman that came today will give her recommendation to the judge and he will go from there. I’m not sure if our lawyers will speak on our behalf with evidence or if it will just be a simple hearing.