Those Children Are Ours Page 8

  “You could ask that of any parent, single or married. As it happens, I have a job that requires me to be at work, at most, for three hours a day, generally in the morning. When problems have arisen, a friend has pitched in.”

  “A patchwork arrangement.”

  “A cooperative arrangement. We help each other, often on a regular basis.”

  “How did you talk with your daughters about boys? About dating? Sex? Surely those are topics more appropriately addressed by a woman. What would you tell Alexis if she told you she planned to sleep with her boyfriend?”

  “I’d tell her that death would swiftly follow.”

  When the laughter died, he continued. “A friend of mine, Emma Coleman, is rather close to both of my girls. They have talked with her about sex. They have talked with her about relationships. I’ve answered questions when I’ve been asked.”

  Emma Coleman? That name was familiar, and Jennie reached over and slipped the list of potential character witnesses from Alice’s folder. Emma Coleman’s name was first on the list.

  “Surely you don’t believe that to be an ideal arrangement.”

  “No, their mother should have been answering those questions, but she refused the assignment.”

  “You haven’t remarried, Dr. Lindsay?”

  “No.”

  “Do you date?”

  “Tell me, Ms. Green, what is a date?”

  “You know perfectly well what a date is, Dr. Lindsay. You and a woman go out together. You go to dinner, to a movie, to a concert.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, Dr. Lindsay, alone.”

  “In that case, I had three dates last year.”

  “Three? In a year? Come on, Dr. Lindsay. You are a good-looking, successful author…”

  “Emma and I went to dinner to celebrate my birthday, to celebrate her birthday, and on the night I asked her to marry me.”

  The courtroom was silent. Jennie stared at Thomas. He was engaged. Of course, she had not planned to reconcile with him. That kind of thing happened in novels, not real life. In any case, when she started her petition, for all she knew, he was married. Still, she felt disappointed.

  “With four children between us, we are seldom alone.”

  “When did you become engaged, Dr. Lindsay?”

  “Last fall.”

  “Why did we not know this?”

  Thomas shrugged. “You must not have asked. Our engagement is public knowledge. It was announced in the Post and Courrier two weeks before I was served with notice of your petition.”

  “Your Honor,” Alice turned to face the judge, “we will want to call this woman…”

  “Emma Coleman, Your Honor.” Kimi stood. “Her name was on the list of potential witnesses. Ms. Green asked us not to call her.”

  “Ms. Carson…” Judge Sullivan began.

  “I agreed not to call all except Ms. Coleman, Your Honor. We intend to call her first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Carson. Ms. Green, do you have other questions for Dr. Lindsay?”

  “No, Your Honor. No further questions.”

  “Ms. Carson, you may proceed then.”

  “Dr. Lindsay, you live below Broad. How much is your house worth?”

  “Housing values are depressed. The house two doors down sold for one-point-eight million last year.”

  “Wow. What was your income last year?”

  “My salary was sixty thousand dollars. I received just under a million dollars in book royalties.”

  “That’s quite a discrepancy. Why do you continue to teach?”

  “I enjoy teaching. I enjoy interacting with my students. My next novel may flop.”

  “Tell us about your daughters. What do they enjoy doing? What do you enjoy doing as a family?”

  Thomas paused, smiling. “Alexis is a junior this year. She’ll be in college in eighteen months. We toured some campuses last summer so that she could start thinking about where she might go.”

  “What does she want to study?”

  “When she was younger, she planned to be a ballerina. I hear that every girl wants to do that at some point. For a while, we seemed to live at a dance studio. I wrote the first draft of a novel during Nutcracker rehearsals one fall.”

  “Where was Christa?”

  “They both had parts.”

  “Alexis no longer wants to dance?”

  “Oh, she’d love to dance, but she’s not built to be a dancer. She took up soccer in high school. She spent a month at soccer camp last summer.”

  “What else does she enjoy?”

  “She writes.”

  “Like her dad.”

  “Better than her dad, I’d say. She’s more creative. She’s a better writer. I think she’ll do well. I understand that her first book is well underway.”

  “What is it about?”

  Thomas chuckled. “When I asked, she informed me that an author doesn’t discuss her story before the first draft is complete. She began work on it last summer at Governor’s School. She hopes to complete it during this summer’s program.”

  “Tell us about Christa.”

  “Horses and theater. If she could ride all day and spend all night on stage, it would be a perfect world.”

  “Does she have her own horse?”

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “Not yet. Give her time.”

  “What do parents do while their children ride?”

  “The first draft that I began during the Nutcracker? I made final edits with my laptop in the bleachers beside the riding ring.”

  “What do the three of you do together?”

  “We drive out to the beach a couple of times a week, hunt for shells, jog on the sand, and take photographs, regardless of the season. Both girls love board games. Christa plans on being a Grand Master in chess.

  “We walk on the Battery, boat through the marsh, go to church.”

  “You’re busy.”

  Thomas nodded. “We have a good time. We’ve become very close over the years. It will be difficult when Alexis goes to college.”

  “How did the girls react when you told them about Ms. Bateman’s petition?”

  “As I expected. Christa was upset. Alexis was angry.”

  “Your Honor,” Alice was on her feet, “Dr. Lindsay cannot know how his children felt about—”

  Kimi interrupted. “Dr. Lindsay, what did Alexis and Christa do when you told them of the petition?”

  “Christa cried.” Thomas glared at Jennie. “She stopped sniffling two hours later. Alexis scowled. She hurled a book against the wall hard enough to break its binding. She made an unflattering reference to her mother’s parentage. She said that she wished her mother were dead.” He remained looking at Jennie, who refused to meet his eye. “Both of them threatened to run away from home if she ever obtained custody. I suspect Alexis might do it if it doesn’t mean leaving Christa behind.”

  “Your Honor, should we not let the girls speak for themselves?” Alice asked.

  Thomas laughed. “Be careful what you ask for, Ms. Green. Both of my daughters have strong opinions, and they are very verbal.”

  “I will interview Alexis and Christa tomorrow morning before they go to school.” Judge Sullivan looked at Kimi Carson. “More questions?”

  “Just a few, Your Honor.”

  “Tell us about Emma Coleman. You’ve known each other for ten years, and you told me that you have dated for five. By Ms. Green’s definition, you had three dates last year with the woman you plan to marry?”

  Thomas laughed. “That is all true. We met at a school function about ten years ago. We were both newly divorced. We discovered that we lived only a couple of blocks apart. Our daughters are the same ages and they became friends. Initially, we babysat for each other, carpooled. Then our families began to dine out together, go to the beach, other activities. The girls sleepover at each other’s houses. I never know who will be at mine on any given night.”

  “That date after five yea
rs must have been a significant event.”

  “In retrospect. At the time it was simply a matter that we wanted to go out to dinner and our daughters wanted to watch a video. Emma ordered pizza and her niece came over to sit with them. Of course, we changed our plans and went somewhere other than Red Lobster.”

  “You said that Ms. Coleman has helped answer the ‘girl questions’ your daughters have had.”

  Thomas nodded.

  “You actually seem like a large, happy family. It sounds as if Emma serves as a mother figure for your children.”

  “I think that’s true.”

  Jennie felt a pang of jealousy. A mother figure? I’m their mother. She took a deep breath and squeezed her hand into a fist.

  “One last thing, Dr. Lindsay. You told me that as your marriage was coming to an end you were concerned about your wife’s stability.”

  “That’s correct. Her behavior became erratic, changing from day to day at first, then from hour to hour. I was afraid she was having a breakdown of some kind and I wanted to be able to describe how she was behaving should anything happen.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I kept a journal. Not every day, but I recorded instances of what seemed to be strange behavior.”

  “Is this the journal?” Kimi Carson held up a small black notebook.

  “It is.”

  “Your Honor, I would like to ask Dr. Lindsay to read a couple of the entries from his journal.”

  Alice rose to her feet. “Your Honor, we really have nothing but Dr. Lindsay’s word that the contents of the journal are authentic, that they were accurate recordings actually made at the time.”

  Judge Sullivan inspected the journal, turning the pages slowly. “I’m going to allow Dr. Lindsay to read from the journal, Ms. Green. You may question Dr. Lindsay again if you doubt the authenticity of the contents.”

  Kimi took the journal from the judge and handed it to Thomas. “Please read the entry for April second, two thousand.”

  “I took the children to the campus for the afternoon. We played chase on the quad, ate ice cream, and watched the students toss Frisbees. When we reached home, Jennie was asleep on the sofa. I sent the children out on the porch, and I walked over to check on her. She reeked of alcohol. An hour later, she pulled herself to her feet, staggered across the room, shouted some unintelligible words in my direction, and stumbled into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I later found her, passed out on the floor.”

  “Okay. Please read the entry from April fourth, two days later.”

  “I arrived home at five o’clock, after sitting in traffic for half an hour. I had called home to tell Jennie that I would be late. When I entered the apartment, I found the children alone. Jennie later told me that she had left for work at four forty, shortly after I had called.”

  “The children were how old? Refresh my memory.”

  “Two and four.”

  “And she left them…”

  “Your Honor,” Alice interrupted, “Ms. Bateman has testified that she was drinking heavily and suffering from a mental disorder. I fail to see what reading from this journal is adding to what we already know.”

  Kimi ignored her. “Just one more entry, Your Honor.” She turned back to Thomas, opening the book to the next to the last page. “Please read your entry for the day before Ms. Bateman abandoned you and your children.”

  The entry described Alexis’s account of “Uncle Jeff’s” visit with Jennie in their apartment. Thomas paused after reading the first part of the entry and looked at Jennie, who dropped her eyes and stared at the table.

  “Please continue, Dr. Lindsay.”

  “They went into the bedroom and closed the door. Alexis could hear them laughing. After a while, Christa had a dirty diaper. Alexis knocked on the door and called to her mother. Jennie came to the door wearing a bathrobe. When Alexis told her that Christa had a stinky diaper, Jennie looked at her as if she was angry and told her that if she bothered her again, she would beat her tail. Then she slammed the door. Alexis did not understand her mother’s threat. She looked up at me and asked what her mother had meant. I’m not a kitty, she said. I don’t have a tail.”

  Jennie hid her face in her hands and cried silently.

  “Who was this man “visiting” with your wife?”

  “Jeff Ingram. He was a customer at the bar where Jennie worked.”

  “Had he come to the house before?”

  “Once, as far as I know.”

  “Do you know of any other contact between him and Ms. Bateman?”

  “She moved in with him when she left us.”

  As Thomas was speaking, the door at the back of the room opened. Jennie glanced over her shoulder and watched as four teenaged girls entered and took seats in the back row on the other side of the room. Two were taller than the others. Otherwise, they might be clones—same hair and eye color, same blue pants, blue sweaters, and white shirts. Uniforms, Jennie decided. She turned around as Kimi Carson spoke.

  “Thank you, Dr. Lindsay. Your Honor, I’d like to call Ms. Bateman back to the stand.”

  “Ms. Carson, it is now four thirty and we’ve had a rather intensive day. If you have no objection, I’d like to delay further questions until tomorrow morning.”

  “No objection, Your Honor.”

  “Let me see.” Judge Sullivan scanned her notes. “I am talking with Alexis and Christa at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Ms. Carson, you’ve asked to question Ms. Coleman as early as possible.” She looked up. “Counselors, I’ll see you at eight. We’ll be in session at nine. Ms. Coleman will take the stand, followed by Ms. Bateman. Anything else?”

  “Your Honor?”

  “Ms. Green.”

  “We wanted to ask Ms. Carson if Dr. Lindsay would object if Ms. Bateman were to have an opportunity to talk with her daughters for a few minutes so that they will not be complete strangers when their visitation begins.”

  “Your Honor,” Kimi responded, “we are happy that Ms. Bateman realizes the stress that her petition has created for her daughters. Perhaps we can have introductions now.” She turned to Jennie. “Ms. Bateman, you see that we have four visitors with us.” She gestured toward the rear of the courtroom, and everyone turned to look at the girls. One of the girls waved. “Your daughters are here. Can you point to one of them?”

  “Your Honor, I object. We all know that Ms. Bateman has not seen her daughters—”

  “Go ahead, Ms. Bateman.”

  Kimi Carson smiled.

  Jennie studied each face, looking for some family resemblance. Maybe the one who waved? The one on the far right, perhaps. Her nose looked a bit like Jennie’s.

  “This really is not…” Judge Sullivan began.

  “The…uh…the cute one.” Jennie saw Thomas roll his eyes. “The one on the far left, my left…”

  “I like that,” the girl said as everyone but Jennie laughed.

  “Not fair, I realize,” Kimi said. “Ms. Bateman, you have just identified Tasha Coleman, Ms. Emma Coleman’s daughter.”

  “She was correct. I am the cute one.”

  “Gag me,” the girl next to her said.

  “Next to Tasha is her sister Amy. Then we have Christa Lindsay and her sister, Alexis. Girls, we’re almost finished. Would you mind waiting outside?”

  Jennie stared at Alexis and Christa as they stood and left the room, trying to memorize their faces in case she never saw them again. Christa smiled and waved to her father, but the smile faded when her eyes made contact with Jennie’s.

  As the girls left, Kimi turned to Judge Sullivan. “We were going to suggest that Ms. Bateman might enjoy spending the evening with Alexis and Christa. She can meet them in the lobby, take them to dinner, bring them home later.”

  Jennie stared at Kimi. “Uh…uh, it wouldn’t be fair to throw that on them all of a sudden. I mean, if I could see them for fifteen minutes…”

  “It’s not a problem, Ms. Bateman. The girls are expecting to
go to dinner with you tonight.” Kimi smiled sweetly.

  “It’s an excellent idea,” Alice cut in. “Dr. Lindsay is very generous. We appreciate his understanding.”

  “Anything else?” Judge Sullivan looked around. “Very well, we are adjourned.”

  “Why did you agree to that?” Jennie hissed at Alice as the judge left the room and Thomas walked with Kimi toward the double doors in the back. “What can I do with them for four hours?”

  “What would you do for two days? For the weekend?”

  “I…I…”

  “That’s what Ms. Carson was poised to ask. If you can’t deal with them for a few hours, she would ask, how can you hope to spend a weekend, or two months, with them. The judge would have been interested in your response too. We really had no choice but to agree.”

  Jennie, Alice, and Jennie’s family trailed Thomas and Kimi into the lobby. Alice and Kimi both departed. Jennie and her family stopped across the room from the bench where the four girls sat, talking to Thomas. One of the girls, she didn’t remember who was who, pointed at her, and Thomas turned, looked at her, and waited.

  Jennie swallowed hard and began to walk across the lobby. She had dreamed of meeting her daughters, talking to them, spending time with them. She had imagined various scenarios for their first get-together.

  In one of her favorites, the girls flew into the airport in Atlanta. She waited for them as they entered the terminal, recognizing them from photographs they had sent her along with letters telling her about themselves. They recognized her and squealed, rushing forward, throwing their arms around her neck…

  No one else was in the lobby, and Jennie heard her heels clicking against the marble floor as she left her family and approached Thomas and the four girls, none of whom smiled, none of whom seemed happy to see her, all of whom, she sensed, wanted her to go away, to disappear. She stopped a few steps away. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  Thomas placed a hand on one girl’s shoulder. “Alexis,” he said. “Christa,” he placed another hand on the other’s shoulder. “This is your mother.”

  “Hi,” they spoke in unison, their voices flat.

  She looked at each child in turn.