“Very well, Ms. Carson. Proceed.”
Jennie’s muscles tensed. Alice had prepped her for cross-examination, but she had acknowledged that she could not necessarily anticipate every question. Jennie wondered what she had said that might need clarification.
“Ms. Bateman, you testified that you had your first date with a young man named Johnny Ackerman when you were fifteen years old. He took you to a football game and a dance.”
“That’s correct.”
“After the dance, to use your words, ‘Then we parked out by the pond and kissed and all. Daddy would have had a fit if he had known, but we didn’t do anything bad.’ Was there an occasion on which your father did know what you and Johnny were doing?”
Jennie stared at the floor.
Judge Sullivan spoke. “Ms. Bateman, please answer the question.”
“Your Honor,” Kimi Carson held up a sheet of paper, “this is a copy of a complaint filed with the Carroll County, Georgia, Department of Family and Children’s Services by a counselor at Carroll County High School on October twenty-third, nineteen eighty-seven. In the complaint, Mr. Askins Bateman is accused of beating his daughter, Jennifer, leaving bruises on her back. The bruises appeared to have been made by a belt buckle. His daughter told the social worker that her father had beaten her after finding her in a car parked near Staley’s Pond, kissing Johnny Ackerman.”
She turned back to Jennie. “Was the complaint true?”
Jennie resumed her study of the floor, but she nodded.
“Was this the only time that your father beat you?”
She looked up. “It was the only time he hit me with the buckle, the only time he hit me on my back.”
“She got what she deserved.” Askins stood and shook his fist. “Social workers should mind their own—”
“Mr. Bateman, sit down and be quiet. If you speak again, I’ll have you removed.”
“Your Honor, where is this line of questioning—” Alice began to object, but Kimi Carson cut her off.
“Is your father a violent man, Jennie?”
Jennie finally made eye contact with Kimi. “He has never believed in sparing the rod…”
“Your Honor, I fail to see the relevance…” Alice was on her feet, raising her voice to be heard.
Kimi whipped around. “Ms. Bateman is requesting visitation for approximately ninety days each year, one day out of four. Is it not credible to suppose that, at some point, the children would be exposed to her father, that they would spend time with or around him? Is it equally not credible to suppose that two assertive, independent teenagers like Alexis and Christa Lindsay will pop to when ordered?” She turned to Jennie. “What would your father do if he learned that Alexis had kissed her boyfriend good-bye as she was shipped off to your house for the summer?”
“Your Honor, I object.”
“That’s all right, Your Honor. We all know the answer. I’ll move on…Ms. Bateman, you took exception when I characterized your place of employment during the last months of your marriage as a bar.” She handed Jennie a photograph. “The Rusty Anchor. Is this the bar—the establishment—where you worked?”
“Yes.” Jennie looked at the photograph. The restaurant had not changed a bit.
“There is a group of men standing in the parking lot. Can you tell what they are doing?”
Just like they used to do. Jennie remembered standing in the same place with a group of guys. “They are drinking…beer, it looks like.”
Kimi Carson handed her another photograph. “I understand that the interior has not changed much in twenty years. I see a bar and a few tables. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but we did serve food. The preacher, I told you, would come in for a late lunch, a steak sandwich, as I recall.”
“Looks like a bar to me,” Kimi said as she handed the photographs to the judge.
“That’s not fair.” Jennie slammed her hand on the arm of the chair so that even Judge Sullivan jumped. Kimi Carson raised her eyebrows.
Jennie clenched her right fist as hard as she could, her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand. She took a deep breath as Dr. Wilson had taught her and slowly allowed her hand to relax. Mentally, she pictured all of her anger draining out along with the tension.
“It’s not fair,” she said calmly. “Many restaurants have bars. Applebee’s down the street—”
“But the Rusty Anchor wasn’t Applebee’s, was it?” Kimi retrieved a sheet of paper from her table and crossed the room, standing directly in front of Jennie.
“Did you know that eighty-five percent of the revenue of the Rusty Anchor comes from the sale of alcohol?” She held out the sheet of paper.
Jennie hesitated. “No, I didn’t.”
“It was a bar, Ms. Bateman. No question. Now, in your testimony, you seemed to imply that Dr. Lindsay insisted that you work because you needed the money.”
Jennie nodded.
“Income tax records for the year that you worked at the Rusty Anchor indicate income of about four thousand dollars. Does that sound right?”
Jennie shrugged. “I guess so. Thomas handled the money.”
“Records indicate that you paid three hundred dollars a month that year for childcare. It seems that, after childcare, your financial contribution was about four hundred dollars. You’re telling us that he had you work for four hundred dollars?” Kimi paused, but Jennie didn’t respond.
“In truth, didn’t your husband encourage you to work because he thought it would be good for you to get out of the house? Not because you needed the money?”
Jennie bit her lip and looked down. She nodded.
“He was thinking of you and, as a result, you began to drink and sleep around.”
“Your Honor, this is uncalled for.”
“Ms. Carson.”
Kimi shrugged. “Her testimony, Your Honor. One last thing, Ms. Bateman. You told us about seeing Dr. Lindsay and his daughters in Atlanta, and that you discussed the event with your therapist. Could you tell us a little more about that?”
“About the book signing?”
“About your discussion with your therapist.”
“Oh, we had talked about the children before. When I told her about seeing them, she suggested that maybe I would want to seek visitation rights, maybe even custody. I told her I didn’t really want to do that, but she gave me an assignment to outline the steps I would have to take to obtain visitation. She believed that it would give me a sense of control over my life, that it would empower me, and she encouraged me to follow through.”
Kimi started to speak, but checked herself. Jennie could hear the clock ticking. Kimi then began quietly, her voice increasing in volume as she went. “Let me see if I understand this. Your therapist suggested that you seek visitation. You weren’t sure if you wanted to go down that road, but your therapist assigned you to identify the steps to take in obtaining visitation. Your therapist encouraged you to seek visitation so that you would feel in control of your life, so that you would be empowered. All of this,” she waved her arm around the courtroom, “is a therapy assignment?”
“Yes. I mean, no, I mean…”
“Well, surely you must feel empowered. Everyone is here,” she turned to look around the room, “because of you.” She paused. “Ms. Bateman, do you really care about seeing your daughters? Do you have even the vaguest idea what you would do with two teenaged girls if you were to leave here tonight with visitation scheduled next weekend? What you would do for even two weeks this summer? Any thoughts at all?”
“I…I…”
“Perhaps that can be your next assignment…I’ve nothing else right now, Your Honor.”
Judge Sullivan looked up at the clock. “I’m happy you had only a few quick questions, Ms. Carson.” She frowned and shook her head. “It’s now one o’clock. We’ll break for an hour.”
***
Jennie grabbed a sandwich and a Coke and walked across the street to a park where she could sit alone a
nd think. It was chilly, but she buttoned her coat and walked briskly. Once inside the park, the trees blocked the wind and she felt more comfortable. Her mind was reeling at the contrast between the two attorneys.
Alice had been calm and gentle, asking questions and leading her through her account of how and why she had left her children. She had done an excellent job, presented herself very well, Alice had told her as they had left the courtroom. Everyone felt sympathetic, she had said.
Her experience with Ms. Carson had been sharply different. She had seemed hostile, pointing out discrepancies in what she had said. How could Ms. Carson have known about the complaint against her father? Why did she seem to know so much about the Rusty Anchor? Jennie knew that her performance under pressure had not been nearly equal to what it was when Alice had questioned her. She felt as if the judge now suspected that she had not told the truth earlier.
How could she explain that, while Dr. Wilson had been the first to verbalize her desire to see her children, she was simply interpreting and summarizing what Jennie had told her? That was her job after all. But when Jennie had answered Ms. Carson’s questions it had sounded as if she was simply doing as Dr. Wilson had instructed.
Jennie had felt herself becoming angry, and Kimi Carson’s reaction had told her that her feelings had been noticed. She could still see the fingernail marks in her palm, but Dr. Wilson’s strategy had worked, and she had not completely lost her temper.
The questions about her father were upsetting, primarily because everything the attorney had said was true. She had grown up terrified of the man, his quick temper, and his almost instant resort to physical punishment. Generally he had left bruises where the other students would not see them, even when she had changed for PE. The idea that he might strike one of her daughters horrified her.
Checking her cell phone for messages, she found a text from Dr. Wilson. Knock ’em dead. She smiled, finished her drink, and hurried back to court.
***
Thomas talked briefly with Kimi before heading down the street to find lunch. He saw the green mermaid on the sign and turned in. A mocha and a sandwich would be perfect.
Emma had wanted to come with him to court, and he now wished that he had given in and agreed to let her be there. Emma, though, was a part of his current life, while Jennie was a ghost from his past. Long ago, he had put Jennie behind him. He did not want to mix the present and the past any more than was necessary, so, he had insisted that Emma go on to school this morning. They would have dinner together tonight, and she would have to be in court in the morning, since she would be called to testify.
Jennie looked good. Same smile, same sparkling eyes he remembered. She had done a good job of arousing sympathy during her testimony, although, Kimi’s cross had effectively destroyed a good bit of it, he decided. Jennie had almost lost her temper and she had wilted under the questions, especially those about her father.
Thomas found a table. He had never liked Jennie’s father and he had often noticed how her behavior changed when Askins was around. His vivacious, vocal girlfriend would become quiet, withdrawn, unwilling to even let him hold her hand. Once, as he turned onto the road after leaving her parents’ house, she had slipped out of her seat belt and thrown herself across the car at him. Trembling, she had wrapped her arms around him as if she would never let him go. It had been all he could do to stay out of the ditch, but he had stopped the car and held her for almost fifteen minutes.
“I’ll break his neck if he ever touches Alexis or Christa,” he whispered. “Unless Emma gets to him first.” He checked his cell. It was time to get back.
***
“I’d like to call Thomas Lindsay.” Alice looked at her pad as Thomas stood and took his place on the platform beside the judge.
“Your Honor,” Kimi Carson rose to her feet, “for what purpose is Dr. Lindsay being called to testify?”
Alice looked up, a confused expression on her face. “I don’t understand your question, Ms. Carson.”
“Dr. Lindsay is not on trial.”
“This is a hearing. No one is on trial.”
“Ms. Green, please address me, not Ms. Carson. Ms. Carson, what is your concern?”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor. I simply wanted to note that this hearing,” she nodded to Alice, “is not about Dr. Lindsay’s fitness as a parent. Ms. Green, in fact, has admitted that he is, and I quote, ‘…of good moral character and a good father.’ Rather, this hearing addresses Ms. Bateman’s suitability to have visitation with her children. As a result, we would expect any questions asked of Dr. Lindsay to be directly relevant to that purpose. Ms. Green should not be on a fishing expedition for something she might blow out of proportion to impugn Dr. Lindsay’s character.”
“Ms. Green, she has a point.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Alice paused while she looked at the notepad in her hand. She turned to Thomas. “Should I call you Tommy or Tom or…”
Oh, please don’t let her try to use mind games with Thomas, Jennie thought. He plays at the expert level.
She recalled how on the first day of class when she had dropped her books, he had kept one to give himself an excuse to call her. He had returned the book that night as he had promised, but when she had returned to her room, she had found she was missing her wallet with her ID card.
“It must have fallen out in my car while we were, uh, talking,” he had said when he’d called just after she had reached her room. He had promised to return it—the next morning at breakfast.
She pulled her thoughts back to the courtroom.
“At one point, Jennie called me Tommy, but that was a private joke. My friends call me Thomas. Are you my friend?”
“I…well…”
“Then you should call me Dr. Lindsay.” Thomas smiled. Jennie did too. He hadn’t changed.
“Dr. Lindsay, you waited two years to file for a divorce when you seem to have had grounds to file much sooner than that. After all, you maintain that Ms. Bateman was unfaithful to you and that she deserted you.”
“Behaviors that she admitted just this morning, Ms. Green. I delayed filing for divorce because I loved my wife and I hoped she would come back to us.”
Jennie felt herself beginning to cry. She had always assumed he had thought himself well rid of her. If she had known…
“Beyond that, I was not interested in dating, certainly not in marriage, so there was no rush. I thought that grounding the divorce on two years’ separation was kinder than labeling her as a deserter, an adulteress, or an alcoholic.”
“You are certain it was not because of a lack of proof?”
“There was proof aplenty, Ms. Green.”
“What did you tell your children about their mother?”
“Until a couple of months ago, there was little need to talk about their mother.” Jennie could see his right eye flick to the left, a sure sign that he was angry.
“Surely the topic arose at some point. Surely they noted that your family differed from those of their friends.”
“Of course they had questions. Mother’s Day was a particularly bad time for my daughters.” He glared at Jennie. “Shortly before she walked out, I had begun to suspect that Jennie had some type of psychological problem. I did not know if this was really the case—I still don’t—but when they asked about her, I would tell them something to the effect that she was very sick and it was better that she live somewhere else. When they were small, they thought that I meant she had a cold and was contagious. Later, they began to understand that a sickness can affect one’s behavior. At that point, I would truly lie to them—I would tell them that their mother loved them very much and wished that she could be with them.”
I did, Thomas, I do…can’t you try to understand…
“Dr. Lindsay, your third book, Then She Left, is generally taken to be an autobiographical account of your break up with your wife. In that book, the central character discusses his former wife at length, accusing her of adultery, alcoholis
m, desertion, and a number of other behaviors. At one point, he says that she ‘…is the most miserable creature to walk the face of the earth, Satan in the flesh.’ Were these your thoughts about Ms. Bateman? Are they still?”
“What if they were? What if they are?”
“Well, I…”
Thomas shook his head. “A reviewer for the New York Times who knew me and who knew what had happened to me suggested that the book might have autobiographical elements. His speculation was picked up by others and repeated as fact. I have repeatedly denied that the book is an autobiography.”
“Come now, Dr. Lindsay, all writing is, to some degree, about the author. Surely, a book about a man whose wife leaves him with two small children must reflect your experiences, your feelings.”
“Your Honor,” Kimi rose to her feet, “if Ms. Green wants Dr. Lindsay to admit that he was angry with his wife, she should ask him. If, on the other hand, she wants to discuss literary technique, I suggest we adjourn to a coffee house.”
“Dr. Lindsay, are you angry with Ms. Bateman?”
Thomas paused before responding, a smile playing around his lips. Jennie had seen the expression before and she covered her eyes briefly.
“Satan in the flesh, Ms. Green.”
The entire courtroom burst out laughing.
As the judge called for order, the smile faded from Thomas’s face. “I was quite angry with Jennie. My anger diminished over time, but she has managed to rekindle it.”
“When she obtains visitation rights with her children, will your anger affect the manner in which you interact with her?”
“Of course it will, if she is successful.”
Alice stared at him for a couple of seconds, and Jennie smiled. Same old Thomas. Alice had expected him to deny it or to talk around it. She didn’t know Thomas.
“Dr. Lindsay, what has it been like, raising two daughters alone?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“How do you find the time? The energy? How do you get them to school? To their activities?”
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