Mrs. Kramer Vs. Mrs. Kramer

Within a year of their separation, Miller filed to dissolve the civil union and obtain legal custody of the child while still allowing Jenkins visitation rights. Jenkins paid child support and saw her daughter according to a schedule the two moms brokered themselves. But they still fought on the phone, and in person, over everything from how Isabella should be raised to questions about who was now dating whom. "She had plenty of opportunities to visit in those months prior to me filing [for sole custody]," says Miller. "But she kept calling and saying she wasn't coming. In my opinion, she made it clear that she wanted no part." Jenkins says Miller withheld Isabella from her, even after she'd drive her old Toyota minitruck all night from Vermont to spend time with her daughter. "Lisa would get mad and then cut me off," says Jenkins. "I remember once she thought I was dating someone new, and she withheld Isabella from not only me but also my parents. They had sent Isabella a valentine, and Lisa sent it back saying, 'You're Janet's parents and that means you are no longer Isabella's grandparents.' My mom said, you know, I don't want to tell you this, but it's like being kicked in the stomach."

Finally, on July 1, 2004—the very day Virginia enacted a new statute (the Marriage Affirmation Act) prohibiting any legal recognition of same-sex marriages or civil unions—Miller filed for sole custody, and a Virginia judge awarded it to her. She'd also accepted pro bono representation from Florida's Liberty Counsel, a legal firm whose goal is "advancing religious freedom, the sanctity of human life and the traditional family." It receives partial funding from the late Jerry Falwell's church, and Miller's main attorney, Mat Staver, is its founder as well as dean of Falwell's Liberty University School of Law. "Lisa Miller's case illustrates two things in regards to same-sex marriages," says Staver. "First, one state cannot adopt same-sex unions without affecting the sister states. It's simply impossible. Secondly, these cases are about real people, and children are particularly caught in the tangled legal web of same-sex marriage, and Isabella is a classic example."

Love and conflict don't ADHERE to state boundaries, and when all that stuff does spill over, it can prove messier than the Exxon Valdez. Like Staver, Jenkins's pro bono attorney, Joseph Price, knows this all too well. A Washington, D.C.-based lawyer, he has served on the board of Equality Virginia, a gay civil-rights group. "You cannot just shop your case around in different states until you get a ruling in your favor," says Price, a gay father of two who's worked on many cases involving same-sex marriages and civil unions. "And that's essentially what Lisa has tried to do."

In court, Price persistently cited the Federal Kidnapping Prevention Act (created to stop parents from taking their kids to another state when they don't agree with the original ruling). Staver used Virginia's Marriage Affirmation Act and the Federal Defense of Marriage Act (the latter says states can deny recognition of same-sex marriages that are deemed legal in other states) to bolster his client's case. Last June, it was decided that the kidnapping law trumped the marriage acts, and the Virginia Supreme Court ruled in Jenkins's favor. Miller's legal firm hopes to challenge the rulings upheld in Vermont and Virginia by petitioning the U.S. Supreme Court to hear their case (they've had two requests denied and recently filed a third). As it stands, the outcome of Miller v. Jenkins represents a victory for the rights of gay parents.

Isabella doesn't have a lot to say about the litigation or its cultural and political impact. Like any other 6-year-old, she's more interested in messing with the sugar packets on the table during lunch than contributing to an adult conversation. Inside a pizza place in a strip mall in Lynchburg, the girl pours creamer in Miller's coffee then carefully stirs. "Swirly, swirly," she says with a lisp. When the pizza arrives, Miller asks Isabella to say grace. With her hands clasped in front of her face, she begins, "Heavenly Father, thank you for . . . " but quietly opens her hands throughout the prayer to play a secret game of peek-a-boo with a lunch guest across the table. Her biological mother has racked up thousands of dollars in fines for all the visitation dates she's failed to comply with, but the placid schoolteacher is not worried about her contempt of court, or the mounting fines. She believes God will protect her. And her other mother—who's remained single—says she would like more children, but will wait until her future with Isabella is settled. In the meantime, the little girl they both vie for has her own set of priorities: like stirring the coffee just so, making sure to never spill a drop.

© 2008