Since January 4, all I could think about was going back to court to get the results stating the obvious that Cydney was mine. For my new readers, after my fiance Timile died, I had to go the legal route to get my daughter back from her grandparents who were trying to adopt her behind my back.
The 29th of February I was pretty restless. My dad came by the house to come and check on me. We just sat and watched the Knicks game and had a drink or two. You know, man stuff. After a long and stressful night it was time to wake up and go to court.
I knew Timile’s parents weren’t going to physically be there and appear in court. When I got there, sure enough they did just that. The magistrate read the results that Cydney was mine. What a relief because that meant that no matter what they did, I had legal dibs on Cydney and I had to give her up in order to for them to adopt her. Timile’s mother sounded a certain way on the phone like she didn’t care. She aggravated the magistrate like the did in January because she was being ridiculous then.
As I was outside the office getting ready to leave, the stenographer came running outside telling me “I’m not supposed to do this, but this is your next step. Go downstairs and fill out the paperwork to obtain custody. Do motion to show cause because you’re the father and her mother is deceased.” Great.
I picked up the application, filled it out, and made all the copies that day. I called and gave updates to everyone and told people I’m filling out papers in New York since Cydney was legally a resident here still. I called Timile’s cousin in Virginia Beach and he was elated. I was feeling a certain way because I had to go through these hurdles and was offended for Timile because taking a DNA test to prove Cydney was mine insinuates that she could have been sleeping around on me and that would have pissed her off. Alright, fine.
The next day, the cousin in Virginia Beach called me back and told me he had a bad feeling. He said “Look, I know ____, and she’s up to something. Come to Virginia and file here. I’m off Monday and Tuesday. Come then and we’ll handle it.” I told him let me think about it. He implored I come down then. It was a Friday. I said to him: “Alright. I’ll be there Monday.” I bought my bus tickets and was heading out Monday afternoon to Virginia to set the next step to getting my daughter back.