The Champagne Sisterhood

by Chris Keniston

  “You mean besides the receipts, nail polish, vitamins, and three books by LaVryle Spencer?”

  “I mean in the diary. Does it say anything about her in-laws?”

  “No. At least not so far. She doesn’t write in it every day. As a matter of fact the entries are rather sparse. Mostly she’s keeping track of Marcia’s milestones.”

  “How old is this?” Kat lifted the book in Anna’s hands to glance at the cover.

  “Just this year.”

  Kat settled herself next to Anna and began reading the pages along side her. A few minutes later when Anna flipped the last page the two women sat silently reading, she didn’t have to look up to know they both had tears in their eyes.

  What a glorious day! Marcia stood all by herself! I called Tom and Mark at the office. It took me almost fifteen minutes to convince Tom he didn’t need to come home, that she’d still know how to stand tonight. I love that man so much. Now with Marcia in our lives sometimes I feel like my chest is going to burst open from so much happiness.

  All tuckered out, Marcia’s taking an early nap and I’m just itching to call the girls. As Marcia’s godmother, I want Anna to be the first to know. I’ve picked the phone up at least ten times to tell her but I know how busy she is at work.

  I can’t believe my baby is standing! Soon she’ll be walking. Then running. The next thing I know, she’ll be sixteen and wanting to spend summers shopping in New York with her so cool Aunt Anna.

  What more can a little girl ask for? She’ll have a bit of a gypsy streak from Aunt Kat. A love of all things Irish, especially soda bread, from Aunt Erin. And a great sense of fashion from Aunt Anna.

  Though I’m counting on Anna to teach my little girl so much more. From her godmother my daughter will learn what it is to have a fearless soul rooted in love.

  Kat slipped an arm around Anna. “That was a week before the accident.”

  “Yeah.” Anna nodded. “She called me as I was getting into a cab. We talked the entire ride home, then I lost the connection in the elevator. When I called her back from inside the apartment she was already talking to you. She was so excited you’d have thought Marcia had been nominated for an Oscar.”

  “Or a Pulitzer.”

  “Yeah.” Anna smiled, blinking back the tears. “She could have called me at work. She didn’t have to wait. I wouldn’t have cared. It probably would have taken my mind off that peabrain, Junior.”

  “Don’t go there again. At least now we know why she wanted you to take care of Marcia.”

  “A fearless soul. I guess she wants her daughter to make an ass out of herself dancing in fountains.”

  “You know for a smart woman you can be really stupid.” Kat sprang from the bed and walked over to the dresser, picking up the photo of all of them at Anna’s office. “She wants to make sure Marcia isn’t afraid to love.”

  “What?”

  “You know the old saying, love conquers all. You’re a walking poster child for it.”

  “Have you been nipping at the champagne when I wasn’t looking?”

  “No. Who is it who loved life so much she wasn’t afraid to dance in a public fountain?”

  “We could have been arrested.”

  “That’s Harrison talking, not you.”

  “Okay, then call it youthful exuberance.”

  Kat set the photo down and turned to Anna. “You weren’t afraid to speak to three total strangers sitting around you even though we all had our heads in our books, too scared to be seen.”

  “It was the first day of college. You’re supposed to be nervous.”

  “Yeah, and you spoke to us anyway. You didn’t let your first day jitters stop you from making the most of life.”

  “You’re giving me too much credit. It was just an English Lit class.”

  “What about the champagne at Napa. The way you behaved anyone would have thought we’d asked you to drink poison.”

  “It was green!”

  “Yeah, and you drank it anyway. Why?”

  Anna bit down on her back teeth. Kat should have been a damn lawyer. “I just did.”

  “Because our friendship meant more to you than an instinctive aversion to unnatural colored beverages. We raised our glasses to friends. One for all and all for one.

  “You’ve never let your fears or concerns get in the way of the people and things you love. You’d fight the devil himself to save someone you love. Babs knew that. We all know it. She wanted to make sure her daughter learned love is stronger than fear.”

  “You guys aren’t exactly scaredy-cats.”

  “No. But we’ve learned from the best. Who convinced Babs if she didn’t want the career her parents had planned for her that she should fight for what she really wanted - Tom? And who showed Erin through patience and perseverance that her gift was nothing to be ashamed of? Do I need to remind you who bought me my first laptop with a card that had one word on it- write?”

  Anna gathered the scattered papers into a neat pile. “You’re making too much of that. I may have made a few suggestions, but you guys did what you wanted to do.”

  “Like I said, we learned to become fearless, to embrace our dreams. You were born that way.”

  Mark spent the better part of the afternoon debating with himself. Should he tell Anna everything or wait and give Sid the time he needed? If Sid was right and tomorrow’s hearing was inconsequential, then there was no reason to tell her. Except to spare her nerves.

  He had to laugh. He’d kept quiet about the grandparents to avoid putting more stress on Anna, and now he was keeping quiet again despite the added stress.

  “This is insane.” He opened the door to Marcia’s room and looked at the sleeping baby. “Damn it Barb, why didn’t you tell them yourself?”

  Sound asleep on her tummy, Marcia was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. He remembered sitting at the table with Barb and Tom the day they were told the baby would be a girl.

  “A little girl.” Barb stirred a teaspoon of sugar into her tea.

  Tom reached over and covered her other hand with his. “It’s what we’ve wanted for years - a family of our own.”

  Mark wasn’t a sappy romantic, but he couldn’t ignore the twinge of envy that sparked inside him. Any man would pay dearly to look at the woman he loved and see such total adoration staring back.

  Barb slipped her hand out from under her husband’s and waved him off, wiping moisture away from her eyes. “Hormones.” She smiled and swiped at her other eye.

  Tom stood with his empty coffee cup and kissed his wife on the cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

  “And being silly. You’d think I was the first woman to have a baby. I know everything will be fine. Our daughter will grow up healthy and happy, knowing how much her parents love her...” She shifted her attention to Mark. “And that she has the best Uncle in the world.” She took a short sip of her tea, then looked up at him again. “We’ve picked a name.”

  Tom set his cup in the dishwasher and moved to stand behind his wife, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. His smile beamed with pride.

  “Marcia. With a C.” Barb waited a breath. “We tried to find something with a K but --“

  Mark swallowed the hard lump that had suddenly caught in his throat. “No, Marcia with a C is...nice. Thank you.”

  Marcia cooed and shifted, flopping onto her side like a rag doll. “Your mama loved you and your daddy more than anything. I hope you know that.”

  He’d made up his mind. There was nothing to question. He’d given his word. He could wait this out. Marcia would grow up the way Barb had planned, knowing her parents, Barbara and Thomas Preston, loved her.

  After having slept most of the afternoon, Marcia had spent the better part of the night giving Mark a hard time. She didn’t want to go to bed at anything even slightly resembling a decent hour. It was nearly two in the morning before she finally dropped off to sleep.

  Having spent what was left of the night on the sofa chasing sle
ep, Mark felt like an old horse run hard and put away wet. Now, standing in the hall of the courthouse, neither he nor Marcia was in the best of moods. Sleep deprived and cranky didn’t come close to describing how he felt. And it certainly fell short of Marcia’s fussy attitude. With Kat, Anna and Sid watching, he paced, rocked and sang Marcia into the closest thing to being sociable he could manage.

  When he strolled past Kat singing a soft rendition of Trucking, she looked up and grinned. “I have to admit. I never considered the Grateful Dead lullaby music.”

  “Not my first choice, but Tom loved that song and sang it to her all the time. I thought maybe it would help.”

  Sid nodded from his seat next to Anna. “Seems to have done the trick.”

  The heavy courtroom doors swung open.

  “We can go in now.” Sid gestured to the doors and led the line.

  Kat slid into the first row of seats behind the railing separating her from her friends.

  A short stocky man in a gray suit that didn’t seem to fit him quite right stepped away from the bailiff and extended his hand. “Ed Simmons. I’m the guardian ad litem. I’ll be looking out for little Marcia’s interests during these proceedings.”

  Anna shook his hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” Mark nodded.

  “I know we didn’t all get a chance to meet before the hearing the way we normally would have, but Ed and I have spoken. He’s an old hand at this. You won’t have to worry,” Sid assured them.

  “That’s good to hear.” Anna squared her shoulders and looked to the empty table across the courtroom. “What happens if they don’t show?”

  “Our case gets easier, but I wouldn’t count on it. Charles Emerson is noted for making a grand entrance. He won’t be late, but don’t count on him being early either.”

  “Judges don’t mind that?” Mark asked.

  “As long as he’s here before they are it’s no skin off their nose.”

  “I see.”

  As predicted, three minutes before eleven a tall middle aged man with distinguished gray temples, wearing a suit that probably cost more than Mark made in a month, strolled into the room with Mr. and Mrs. Prescott in tow.

  Once an attractive woman, Amanda Prescott looked weathered and worn. Though her hair still shone a dark brown, she wore it pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck, making her look a decade older than she should have. Howard, balding and only a few inches taller than his wife, wore a loose fitting brown suit that gave no indication of the strong, muscular man Mark remembered. The couple reminded him of Grant Wood’s American Gothic painting. He hadn’t expected the mere sight of them to make his blood boil.

  “Easy boy,” Sid whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Never let them see what you really think. It’s a lot like playing poker.”

  “All rise.” The bailiff mumbled a few words announcing her honor Martha Taylor, and Mark hoped having a female judge would somehow work in their favor. Not that it really mattered. This was just a formality.

  Focusing on the judge, Mark hadn’t heard the beginning of the proceedings. If he wanted to keep a blank expression, the less he paid attention the better, but still he couldn’t ignore the Prescotts’ attorney when he started professing those horrid people’s supposed virtues.

  “Your honor, my clients are upstanding citizens with good Christian values. They have been married for over thirty five years, raised two sons, one of whom was a successful and respected businessman. There is no valid reason for my clients to be denied custody of their only grandchild.”

  It took everything in Mark not to blurt out what lying bastards that man’s clients were. Stretching his fingers under the table, counting to ten for the second time, he looked up as Sid approached the bench.

  “As you can see your honor, we have substantial evidence Mr. Preston did not want his parents involved in his daughter’s life. Legally changing his name, he disowned his parents and severed all ties to them. Mr. Preston did not inform them of his marriage or the birth of his daughter.”

  The judge looked over the papers, glanced up at the Prescotts, over to Mark and the baby, then returned her attention to the documents.

  “We also have sworn affidavits from hospital personnel stating from her deathbed Mrs. Preston made Miss Bartiglioni promise to take care of Marcia. It was very clear to everyone in the room, on more than one occasion, that Mrs. Preston wanted Miss Bartiglioni to keep Marcia safe.”

  Marcia had fallen asleep on Mark’s shoulder. With practiced ease he shifted her to his other side, closer to Anna. Since the only time the baby would let Anna near her without screaming was when she slept, while the two lawyers bantered back and forth about hearsay and depositions, Anna’s fingers trailed gently through Marcia’s short hair.

  “It’s starting to get a curl like Babs,” she whispered to him. “I wonder if it’s going to turn red too?”

  He shifted in his seat and glanced up at the attorneys bickering before the judge. Though he was sure there was some other legal description for the squabble. He was also sure the judge had been discreetly watching the interaction at their table.

  “This court cannot take such accusations lightly. You know the procedure, gentlemen. I’ll want psychological evaluations, financial statements and home studies. In the meantime, this court grants Miss Bartiglioni continued custody. She will not deny the Prescotts supervised visitation.” The woman looked to Ed. “Mr. Simmons will arrange what he considers an appropriate schedule.”

  Ed nodded and Mark covered Anna’s hand, squeezing more tightly than he’d intended. Visitation? Sid had assured him this hearing was just a formality, biding time. He hadn’t said a thing about visitation. Damn.

  After the judge left the bench, Sid turned to Mark. “You three go wait in the hall. Ed and I are going to talk to Charles and the Prescotts. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Mark didn’t want to look at Tom’s parents. Ed and Charles were already huddling like a couple of football players. All he wanted was to get the hell out of there. “Come on.” Setting his hand at the small of Anna’s back, he nudged her down the aisle.

  The moment the door slammed shut behind her, Anna leaned heavily against Mark. “Oh, God.”

  “It’s okay.” He wrapped his free arm around her shoulder.

  “No it’s not okay.” She jerked upright. “They’re going to let those people visit her!”

  “Supervised visits,” Kat interjected meekly.

  Anna waved a hand in the air. “Whatever. I don’t like it.”

  “That won’t happen.” Mark shook his head. “Sid just needs a little time to make his case. It won’t happen.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Kat sighed. “We’ll have to wait and see what Sid has to say. In the meantime...” She scanned the halls. “I’m going to see a man about a horse. You two let me know if you come up with anything while I’m gone.”

  Anna pointed to a sign to her right. “Good idea. I’ll join you.”

  Mark stared after her. Damn, that woman knew how to wear a suit.

  “Where are the ladies?” Sid asked, stepping up next to him.

  “Restroom.”

  “We’ve come to an initial agreement.” Sid hooked Mark’s arm, nudging him a few feet away as Amanda and Howard Prescott walked through the double doors. “Until I get the proof I need, we have no choice but to cooperate with the Prescotts.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I know. It’s the best I can do for now. There’s one more thing.”

  Mark stiffened.

  “She wants to hold her. Now.”

  Mark looked up to see Ed nod. Fury clawed at his insides. He hated this. “I don’t trust her.”

  “You have to do this, Mark. If you don’t, it’s not going to look good to the judge. Just a few minutes,” Sid reassured him.

  Ed moved to stand behind Mr. and Mrs. Prescott, Sid stepped to their left beside Howard, Mark grudgingly stood to Amanda�
�s right.

  “Hello, Mark,” her voice was older, lower, but the sound still grated on him.

  “Mrs. Prescott.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a monster.”

  He didn’t utter a sound, couldn’t. Every word that ran through his mind may have been true, but standing in the hallway of the county courts building was no place to say them.

  “We loved our sons. Did what we thought best for them. We made mistakes. You have no idea how deeply we regret them. But I promise you, she’ll be happy with us.”

  Howard Prescott looped a stiff arm around Amanda’s waist. “My wife speaks the truth. We’ve seen the error of our ways, Mark. Little Marcia belongs with us.”

  Amanda Prescott nodded then reached for the sleeping child. “Hi, precious.” If he didn’t know better he’d have thought she looked like any other doting grandmother.

  Stirring at the attention, Marcia opened her eyes, seemed to study the older woman, then tightened her hold on Mark’s shirt.

  “Come to Gramma, precious.” Holding out her hands, Amanda pried the little girl from her godfather’s arms.

  Howard reached forward to touch the child and for a brief moment Mark thought he saw the man’s hard expression soften. Amanda curled her arms around the little thing, and Marcia let out a screech that would have led any passerby to believe they were torturing her.

  “I’d better take her.” Mark reached forward and Marcia threw her arms at him.

  Amanda merely tightened her grip and turned her back on him. “There, there, sweetheart. It’s Gramma,” she repeated.

  “What the hell is going on?” Anna came marching up the hall. Her expression clearly shouted she was ready to do battle.

  “Nothing is going on,” Howard answered before anyone else could.

  The sound of the screaming baby had brought several people out into the hall, including Judge Taylor.

  “What are you doing?” Anna stormed up to the shorter woman and snatched little Marcia out of her arms, curling protectively around the small child. Silence fell on the hall.