Friction Read Free

to leave the courthouse defeated and unhappy. Crawford wouldn’t be able to congratulate them if the judge ruled in their favor, and he wasn’t about to wish them luck. He figured they felt much the same way toward him.
    Since both parties had agreed to leave Georgia out of the proceedings entirely, Crawford asked Grace what arrangements she’d made for her while they were in court. “She’s on a play date with our neighbor’s granddaughter. She was so excited when I dropped her off. They’re going to bake cookies.”
    Crawford winced. “Her last batch were a little gooey in the center.”
    “She always takes them out of the oven too soon,” Joe said.
    Crawford smiled. “She can’t wait to sample them.”
    “She needs to learn the virtue of patience.”
    In order to maintain his smile, Crawford had to clench his teeth. His father-in-law was good at getting in barbs like that, aimed at Crawford’s character flaws. That one had been a zinger. Also well timed. Before Crawford could respond, the Gilroys’ attorney stepped off the elevator. They excused themselves to confer with him.
    Within minutes Crawford’s attorney arrived. Bill Moore’s walk was as brisk as his manner. But today his determined stride was impeded by dozens of potential jurors who had crowded into the corridor looking for their assigned courtroom.
    The attorney plowed his way through them, connected with Crawford, and together they went into Judge Spencer’s court.
    The bailiff, Chet Barker, was a courthouse institution. He was a large man with a gregarious nature to match his size. He greeted Crawford by name. “Big day, huh?”
    “Yeah it is, Chet.”
    The bailiff slapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
    “Thanks.”
    Crawford’s butt barely had time to connect with the seat of his chair before Chet was asking everyone to rise. The judge entered the courtroom, stepped onto the podium, and sat down in the high-backed chair that Crawford uneasily likened to a throne. In a way, it was. Here, the honorable Judge Holly Spencer had absolute rule.
    Chet called court into session and asked everyone to be seated.
    “Good afternoon,” the judge said. She asked the attorneys if all parties were present, and when the formalities were out of the way, she clasped her hands on top of the lectern.
    “Although I took over this case from Judge Waters, I’ve familiarized myself with it. As I understand the situation, in May of 2010, Grace and Joe Gilroy filed for temporary custody of their granddaughter, Georgia Hunt.” She looked at Crawford. “Mr. Hunt, you did not contest that petition.”
    “No, Your Honor, I did not.”
    William Moore stood up. “If I may, Your Honor?”
    She nodded.
    In his rat-a-tat fashion, the lawyer stated the major components of Crawford’s petition to regain custody and summarized why it was timely and proper that Georgia be returned to him. He ended by saying, “Mr. Hunt is her father. He loves her, and his affection is returned, as two child psychologists attest. I believe you have copies of their evaluations of Georgia?”
    “Yes, and I’ve reviewed them.” The judge gazed thoughtfully at Crawford, then said, “Mr. Hunt will have a chance to address the court, but first I’d like to hear from the Gilroys.”
    Their lawyer sprang to his feet, eager to get their objections to Crawford’s petition on the record. “Mr. Hunt’s stability was brought into question four years ago, Your Honor. He gave up his daughter without argument, which indicates that he knew his child would be better off with her grandparents.”
    The judge held up her hand. “Mr. Hunt has conceded that it was in Georgia’s best interest to be placed with them at that time.”
    “We hope to persuade the court that she should remain with them.” He called Grace to testify. She was sworn in. Judge Spencer gave her a reassuring smile as she took her seat in the witness box.
    “Mrs. Gilroy, why are you and Mr. Gilroy contesting your