“Would you like to change the date?” he asks.
Deacon and I look at each other. We don’t want a different date. We want to get this over with.
“I’m afraid not. My client won’t be showing up at all. She’s left the state.”
Deacon squeezes my hand, fighting a smile. It’s all either of us can do to stop jumping up and down with joy.
“Very well then,” the judge says. He’s an older man, worn down, and looks like he doesn’t have much patience for anyone anymore. I imagine that’s what happens when you have to sit through court day in and day out for a living. “Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy—” (That’s us. It still sounds weird to be called Mrs. anything, let alone by Deacan’s last name. I love it, though. When I first changed it, I spent hours practicing my new signature) “—I am granting you full custody of Bailey McCarthy. Congratulations.”
Deacon and I are both crying as we cling to each other. We finally have our happy family together and there’s nothing anyone can do to ever get between us again.
THE END