Fortune's rocks_ a novel - Anita Shreve [167]
“But, Mrs. Bolduc, how did you go back to work once you had the infant in your care?”
“Telesphore and I, we are going to overseer and are asking to work different shifts to take care of baby. And we are good workers, so he is saying yes to us.”
“Where is the boy now?”
“He is with my mother.”
“Your Honor,” says Sears, “I have here an affidavit from Sister Thérèse Bracq, a visiting nurse with the Orphanage of Saint Andre, who cannot be in court due to a long-term chronic illness, attesting to the fact that repeated visitations to the Bolduc household have shown that the boy is being well cared for and that he is almost always with one of his parents. She adds that various members of Albertine Bolduc’s extended family have helped as well to raise the boy.”
Sears hands the document to the judge, who briefly peruses it.
“Now, Mrs. Bolduc,” Sears continues, “tell me how you felt when you heard last fall that Olympia Biddeford, the natural mother of the boy, was seeking custody of the child.”
There is a cry of “Non!” from the back of the courtroom. Littlefield immediately bangs his gavel. “Bailiff,” he says, “eject that gentleman.” They wait while the spectator, a man with a sign and a blue scarf, is removed from the courtroom.
Albertine glances over at Olympia, and it is the first time since they entered the courtroom yesterday that the two have looked each other in the eye.
“I am not believing this,” she says, as if directly to Olympia. “I am not believing this. The boy is ours. He cannot be taken away, I am saying to Telesphore. And he is shouting and being very angry. And I am telling him to be quiet for the boy. And I am holding the boy and I am telling him I will never leave him. And then someone is telling us of you, who sometimes take the cases of the poor.”
“Yes, thank you. What does the boy call you?” Sears asks quickly, seemingly wishing to change the subject. And not from any modesty, Olympia guesses, but because he does not wish the court to linger on the word poor, an attribute no lawyer in a custody suit wants to emphasize in his client.
“He is calling me Maman, of course.”
“And your husband?”
“Papa.”
“The boy knows no other parents, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Bolduc, why have you not adopted the boy legally?”
“The father is not being found. But we are wishing to. And the sisters are telling us that after five years we can do this.”
“And when will you enroll the boy in school?”
“At six years.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bolduc, that will be all.”
Olympia watches as Sears returns to his table, lifts the tails of his frock coat, and takes his seat. In the witness box, Albertine removes a handkerchief from her purse and wipes her upper lip.
“Your Honor,” says Tucker, rising to his feet. “I have some questions to put to Albertine Bolduc.”
The judge makes notes and does not respond for a moment. In an impulsive gesture of encouragement, Olympia reaches over and touches Tucker’s hand. He looks down at her hand and then at her face.
“Yes, proceed,” says Littlefield.
Tucker, reluctant to withdraw his hand, slowly rises to his feet and approaches Albertine Bolduc. He studies her for a time before he speaks. Albertine, uncomfortable with the silence, begins to fidget.
“Mrs. Bolduc,” says Tucker finally. “I wish to ask you some questions about your background.”
“Yes?”
“You are an American citizen?”
“Yes.”
“You were born here? In this country?”
“Oh yes.”
“In Ely Falls?”
“Yes, my mother is working in the mill forty-seven years now.”
“Forty-seven years?” Tucker says with seeming surprise. “That is quite a lot of years, Mrs. Bolduc.”
“Yes,” she says. “And she is having seven children.”
“Did she? That strikes me as extraordinary.”
“Oh no,” says Albertine. “Is not. Is many Franco families who are working many years in the mill with many children. Is common.”
“Can you give me another example?”
“My sister is working for twenty-four years and she is having four children and one who is dying.” Albertine crosses herself.
“And she is how old now? Your sister?”
“Thirty-two years.