I stood before the judge and pled guilty to obstruction of justice and destruction of evidence while a dozen women from my church sat in the courtroom and watched. I could hear them sniffling in the rows behind me.
Then it was Kurt’s turn. He stood before the judge, his shoulders square, his back straight. Personally, I found it difficult to remain upright. What if the judge decided to go for the high end of the sentencing spectrum? I didn’t think I would be able to stand it.
The judge read a lengthy statement, none of which I heard. My mind could wrap itself around nothing but the length of the sentence, not all the legal hithertos and thithertos. “Due to the violent nature of this crime, my inclination would be to go for the high end of the sentencing spectrum.” I heard a gasp from the row behind me. I knew it was Jodi. The judge looked over his glasses in disapproval before continuing. “However, due to an overwhelming amount of the paper work recommending otherwise, including a rather lengthy affidavit from the lead detective on the case …”
I turned my head to see if Bruce Thompson was in the courtroom. He nodded at me and offered something akin to a smile. I turned back to the judge.
“ … a low-end sentence of three years.” Once I heard those words, the tears started. They weren’t happy tears—how could they be when my son was about to go to prison? But they were at least grateful tears. It could have been so much worse, there could be no doubt about that. I would thank Bruce Thompson later.
The bailiff approached our table. Kurt locked me in an embrace. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The words were choked by sobs. My sobs.
The bailiff motioned for Kurt to step toward him and produced a pair of handcuffs. Kurt nodded and extended his hands, but he never took his eyes off me. “We did the right thing—never doubt that. We did the right thing.” The metal made a clinking sound as the cuffs were set in place, then my son was led away from me. He turned just before they pushed through the back door and called out, “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too.” Rick’s strangled words carried through the room.
I slowly turned and walked toward Rick. I fell into his arms and we simply held each other and cried for a moment. Then he pulled back, put his left arm across my shoulder, and started to lead me from the courtroom. “Let’s go home.”
Jodi came and linked her arm around me, Lacey on her other side. Monte did the same on the other side of Rick, and we walked out of the courtroom, one big human chain. One step at a time we would get through this. With the dawn of each new day we would shake off the dust from yesterday, learn from it, then leave it behind as we walked toward tomorrow.