Page 87 of After the Rain

EZRA

The courthouse buzzed with energy I'd never felt before. Media crews set up outside, their cameras and microphones turning our personal battle into something larger, more public. Supporters filled every available seat in the gallery, spilling into the aisles until the bailiff had to ask people to move back. The Fletcher family's confident expressions from our first hearing had been replaced with tight-lipped concern as they realized they were no longer controlling the narrative.

I sat with Wade in the front row, our hands clasped together despite the pressure we'd felt to separate, to hide, to make our love less visible. But hiding had gotten us here in the first place. Today, we were done hiding.

"You okay?" Wade whispered, his thumb stroking across my knuckles.

"No," I admitted. "But I'm here."

Judge Patricia Morrison entered with the kind of presence that commanded immediate silence. She was younger than I'd expected, maybe early fifties, with steel-gray hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing. Her reputation for fairness and thoroughevaluation of evidence was why Wade's new attorney had been cautiously optimistic about drawing her for our case.

"This court is aware of the public attention this case has generated," Judge Morrison began, her voice carrying easily through the packed courtroom. "However, I want to be clear that Cooper Harrison's welfare remains our primary concern. This is not a referendum on lifestyle choices or social values. This is about a child's right to live with the parent who provides the most stable, loving environment."

Rebecca Santos, Wade's new attorney funded by our community's incredible generosity, rose for opening arguments. She was everything our previous lawyer hadn't been—confident, articulate, and completely unintimidated by the Fletcher family's legal team.

"Your Honor, this case has been framed as a question of morality, but it's actually much simpler than that. We're here to determine what's best for Cooper Harrison, a seven-year-old boy who has thrived in his father's care. Mr. Harrison's relationship with Mr. Mitchell has provided Cooper with additional stability and support, not the threat suggested by the petitioners."

Santos moved around the courtroom like she owned it, her presence commanding attention from everyone present. She wasn't just defending Wade's custody rights—she was reframing the entire discussion.

"The evidence will show that Cooper's wellbeing, academic performance, and emotional development have all improved since his father began living authentically. We're not asking this court to approve of any particular lifestyle. We're asking you to recognize what's best for a child who loves both his father and the man who has become part of their family."

The first character witness was Mrs. Patterson, whose daughter Emma had been one of my students. She spoke about seeing Cooper before and after Wade came out, describing achild who had gone from withdrawn and anxious to confident and happy.

"Cooper used to worry constantly about his father," she testified. "Emma would tell me how Cooper talked about Daddy being sad all the time, how he wished his father smiled more. But after Mr. Mitchell became part of their lives, Cooper was like a different child. Happier, more secure, excited to talk about his family."

Dr. Martinez, Cooper's pediatrician, followed with medical testimony about Cooper's improved health markers—better sleep, reduced anxiety symptoms, increased appetite—all documented in the months since Wade and I had become a family.

"In my twenty years of practice, I've seen many children affected by family instability," Dr. Martinez explained. "Cooper Harrison showed no signs of distress related to his father's relationship. If anything, his overall health improved as his home environment became more stable and honest."

I watched the proceedings with growing amazement at how many people had stepped forward to defend our family. Neighbors I barely knew spoke about Cooper's obvious happiness and security when he was with Wade and me. Teachers described his improved academic performance and social confidence.

But it was Tom Bradley from the hardware store whose testimony surprised me most.

"I've known Wade Harrison for eight years," Tom said from the witness stand. "Bought lumber from me for every project he's ever done. Good man, responsible father, pays his bills on time." He paused, looking directly at the Fletcher family's table. "I'll admit, when I first heard he was gay, it caught me off guard. But you know what? His kid's still polite when they come in the store, still excited to help his dad pick out screws and nails.Wade's still the same good father he always was. Maybe better, because he stopped pretending to be someone he wasn't."

The afternoon brought Dr. Vasquez's expert testimony, and I watched her systematically dismantle every piece of biased research the Fletchers had presented during our emergency hearing.

"The studies cited by the opposing side represent fringe voices in the psychological community," Dr. Vasquez explained, consulting her notes. "The overwhelming scientific consensus, based on decades of peer-reviewed research, shows that children of LGBTQ+ parents perform as well or better than their peers in traditional families. These children often demonstrate higher levels of empathy, tolerance, and emotional intelligence."

She presented study after study, research from major universities and psychological associations, all supporting the same conclusion: love made families strong, not the gender of the parents providing that love.

"In fact," Dr. Vasquez continued, "children who grow up seeing diverse expressions of love and family often develop stronger social skills and greater acceptance of differences. Cooper Harrison's exposure to his father's authentic relationship is more likely to benefit his development than harm it."

Sarah's testimony provided the emotional heart of Wade's defense. She walked to the witness stand with visible determination, her decision to testify against her own parents written in every line of her posture.

"Cooper has been staying with me since the emergency custody order," Sarah began, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. "He cries himself to sleep asking when he can go home. He's confused about why loving people is wrong. My parents are traumatizing him to prove a point about morality that doesn't match their actions."

She described finding Cooper hiding in his closet after overhearing one of his grandfather's phone calls about "fixing the gay problem." She talked about his questions about why Mr. Mitchell was suddenly a bad person when he'd been good the week before.

"My parents claim to be protecting Cooper, but they're the ones hurting him. He was happy and secure with Wade and Ezra. Now he's anxious and confused, wondering if love is something to be ashamed of."

The Fletcher family's counter-attack felt increasingly desperate as their witnesses revealed their own prejudices rather than legitimate concerns about Cooper's welfare. Richard Fletcher himself took the stand, his confident demeanor from our first hearing replaced by defensive anger.

"I've watched my grandson be influenced by inappropriate adult relationships," Richard testified. "Children need stability and traditional role models, not confusion about family structures."

But under cross-examination, his real motivations became clear.

"Mr. Fletcher, have you observed any actual harm to Cooper in his father's care?" Santos asked.

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