Chantalâ€™s trip continues.
'" I looked at the judge and said "I just want to be rid of this skanky cunt and her preacher fuck pals there." Bruce hung his head as if he wanted to disappear. Cheryl was pissed off and if looks could kill I'd have been on my way to St. Peter long before that particular speech.
Burt had subpoenaed the Harris' as material witnesses. They had fought it only to be threatened with a "failure to appear" charge if they didn't show. Their congregation had already dwindled to the point that Bruce's two Sunday services for 150 or so parishioners had become one service for ten who either couldn't find another church or just went to see if an orgy might occur, and three representatives from the main church in Denver planning to get a new parson in to replace Bruce. The once proud choir of 20 was now Cheryl, Robin and old Charles Brown.
The organist had quit so they had canned hymnal music for the three stooges to caterwaul to. I laughed anytime I thought of Bruce's once proud church being taken from him and handed to a more capable rector. I turned to Bruce and pointed, "You, you pious cocksucker. You have got to be..."
The pounding gavel shook the room. I turned to see one furious bitch glaring at me from the bench.
"One more outburst from you Mr. Ericson and I will hold you in contempt of court!" The judge's face was a bright shade of red. I had to stifle a chuckle at her almost comic expression. She turned to Burt who shrank back as if about to be hit. "Mr. Young I strongly advise that you get a rein on your client."
Burt turned to me and said, "Come on Jack. You better get control of yourself or you'll end up in jail rather than moving on."
I let out a deep breath and spoke. As my mouth opened I could feel the tension in the room. No one knew what was going to fly out of my mouth next. "Your honor, I will attend the therapy sessions as you have ordered. But I'd rather you didn't waste anyone's money on this farce. Especially mine! I will attend as I stated before but there is no hope of reconciliation with that wh..I mean my ex-wife."
Robin burst into tears and the judge and Burt looked relieved. The stenographer however seemed to be disappointed. I heard a stifled giggle and looked back to see Brenda McBain in the gallery watching intently.
"I do order marriage counseling Mr. Ericson. You ARE ordered to attend and pay for no less than four sessions with a court appointed therapist."
I saw Burt wince as she said that. "Fuck." I said hopefully not loud enough to be heard by the bitch in the black robe.
"What was that Mr. Ericson?" I turned ready to let the bitch know just what I said and what I meant by it when Burt grabbed me and sat me down.
"My client," said Burt as he did, "Your honor, my client and I can't comprehend why counseling has been ordered when Mr. Ericson has made it so colorfully clear," this drew a chuckle from the gallery, "that he has no interest in saving his marriage or spending time with Mrs. Ericson. He is further exasperated by having to pay for his counseling when all he wants is for his marriage to be dissolved so that he can move on with his life"
That fucking Burt sure knew how to lay the shit on thick.
"Mr. Young, I will allow weekly sessions so your client may be better informed within a month. Will that suit you?"
He fixed me with a glance, "Yes your honor. It suits my client just fine, although I would like to have the therapist office be made aware of the no contact orders."
The judge looked at her secretary and whispered something and got a nod from the secretary. "Okay then, we'll set the next hearing for one month." Burt and Robin's attorney went to the secretary's desk and whipped out their diaries. After a few minutes of pointing and shrugging, Burt retuned to our table and wrote the date and times for therapy and our next court date.
"You don't have to participate Jack, just show up and don't get violent."
Three days later I was sitting in Dr.