Happily Ever After? (19 page)

“Step down? I’m going back to work. Come on, honey.” Pookie grabbed her bag and scuttled out behind her husband.

Judge Brand glanced at his watch. “Okay, who’s up next?”

Things were moving more quickly than I’d imagined. Sloan handed the judge a large manila envelope. “Your honor, we believe
that a child thrives in a home with two parents, a man and a woman. We have reason to believe that Miss Ryan is incapable
of providing that kind of normal parental environment because of her sexual orientation.” Brand leaned forward eagerly. “I
submit these photographs for your consideration, Your Honor.”

Here it comes.

Brand opened the envelope and slid out the pictures. He pushed his glasses up his nose and peered at the photos without expression.
When he was through staring at them, Sloan set them on a small wooden easel. You could see one of Diana’s breasts and her
bare legs. I looked fat as a walrus. It didn’t look like I was having sex with her. It looked like I was smothering her.

Sloan continued. “Your Honor, you are looking at an untouched and completely unaltered photograph of Valerie Ryan in bed with
Diana Leland aka Diana Pierce, a known lesbian. Ms. Pierce is in the nude, your honor, as you can plainly see, and Ms. Ryan
is lying on top of her. I believe it is safe to surmise that these two women are engaged in a sexually intimate act, sir.”

“I wish!” The voice came from the back of the room. We all turned to watch Diana stride up the center aisle. She stood in
front of the judge, hands on her hips. She was wearing a gray pinstriped pants suit, white shirt, and man’s tie. “Your Honor,
those pictures prove nothing. Valerie Ryan is not a lesbian. I should know. I’ve been after her for years!”

“And you are …” the judge asked.

“I guess you don’t recognize me with my clothes on. I’m the woman in the picture. I’m Diana Leland Pierce.”

Omar stood up. “Your honor, Ms. Leland is scheduled to testify later today. Would you have any objection to adjusting our
schedule a bit so that Ms. Leland may speak now?”

Judge brand turned to Sloan and raised his eyebrows. “Do you have any problem with that?”

Sloan shrugged. “No, Your Honor.”

The judge gestured toward the witness table. “Take a seat, Ms. Leland.”

“Gladly, Your Honor.” Diana hopped onto the platform and slid into the seat. She clasped her hands primly and waited for the
first question.

Omar started by addressing Judge Brand. “Your Honor, Roger Tisdale’s attorneys will argue that Valerie Ryan is unfit to be
a mother because of her sexual orientation. I will set aside the implications of that premise for a moment—I am not here today
to argue whether gay people can be competent, loving parents. I am here to refute the ridiculous and completely unwarranted
claim that Valerie Ryan is a lesbian, and I’ve invited Ms. Leland to speak to that issue.

Omar approached the table. “Ms. Leland Pierce, for the record, are you a lesbian?”

Diana smiled. “Absolutely.”

“You must admit that these photographs are rather damning, and yet you insist that Ms. Ryan is not a lesbian. Are you certain
of that?”

“Yes, Mr. Sweet, I am. I can tell you with complete certainty that this woman”—she pointed at me, and smiled—“is not a lesbian.
I’ll admit it. I tricked her into meeting me at the motel. Then I sort of tugged at her and she lost her balance, which is
why it appears that she is lying on me. She isn’t. She fell on me and she’s struggling to stand up.” She turned to the judge.
“Your Honor, Valerie has always been interested in men and only men. I’m the one who’s interested in women, not Valerie Ryan.”
Diana fixed her gaze on Sloan’s female assistant in the beautiful aubergine suit and winked at her. The young woman blushed
and shuffled her papers.

Omar sighed and smiled knowingly. So, just to restate, Valerie Ryan is not a lesbian, correct?”

“No. Mr. Sweet, Valerie Ryan is not a lesbian,” Diana said. “Unfortunately.”

The judge shook his head disdainfully and turned to Sloan. “Questions?”

“I have nothing for this witness, Your Honor,” Sloan said. “However, I would like to state for the record that this photograph
is highly suggestive, regardless of Ms. Pierce’s testimony. The woman is in bed naked, Your Honor. Ms. Ryan is making bodily
contact with her, Your Honor. The facts are there, in black-and-white.”

Judge Brand took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Sloan, I have little sympathy for those who practice deviant
lifestyles. On this point I have made myself quite clear, and publicly so. But if the facts of Ms. Ryan’s sexuality rest on
this single photograph, you’re skating on thin ice, Mr. Sloan. Unless you have stronger evidence to bolster your claim, I
suggest that you abandon this line of argument. Ms. Pierce, uh, Ms. Leland, whatever it is, you may step down.”

“With pleasure, Your Honor.” Diana slid out of her seat and left the courtroom. Under other circumstances she would have smiled
or given me the thumbsup, but apparently she thought it best to minimize contact.

“You may call your next witness, Mr. Sweet.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Omar stood up. “At this point I’d like to call Alyssa Elkins to testify.”

Alyssa moved slowly toward the witness table. I realized with joy in my heart that she looked like she has packed on the pounds.
Not that she’s ready to shop at Lane Giant, but her face was fuller and she was wearing a long blouse (a garment undoubtedly
chosen for its high MBC—maximum butt coverage—index). Alyssa’s hair was pulled back, and for the first time I noticed her
enormous flapping ears. Welcome to the club, Chunky Monkey. Just wait until you have your first kid.

Omar sprung to his feet and straightened his tie. “Thank you for joining us today, Ms. Elkins. For the record, you aren’t
exactly thrilled to be here, are you?”

“No.” Her eyes briefly met mine. She looked away quickly. She didn’t look at Roger.

Omar turned to the judge. “I’d like to point out that Alyssa Elkins appears before Your Honor today not of her own free will,
but because she has been subpoenaed to do so.” Alyssa rolled her eyes. “We believe that her testimony will support our contention
that Roger Tisdale is not fit to retain full custody of Peter Ryan Tisdale.”

“Please continue,” Brand said.

“Ms. Elkins, please describe, if you would, your relationship to Roger Tisdale.”

Alyssa leaned forward. “I have no relationship to Roger Tisdale.”

“Fair enough, Ms. Elkins. Would you please describe, then, your past relationship with Mr. Tisdale.”

She smirked. “Roger was my teacher and my lover.”

Interesting. I hadn’t expected it to hurt but it did. Those two words—
my lover
—dredged up my worst memories quicker than a needleful of sodium pentathol. I could see Roger and Alyssa flirting outside
the Learning Attic. I remembered finding her plastic diaphragm case in the van, and recalled all of Roger’s crazy excuses
(“She asked me to hold it for her. I swear!”). What hurt most, though, was remembering how badly I’d wanted to believe him,
and how willing I was to overlook what I thought was his one and only transgression.

“Your teacher and your lover,” Omar echoed, and the words stung just as sharply the second time around. “Ms. Elkins, you had
a sexual relationship with Mr. Tisdale, then?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean when I say he was my lover.” (Yet again.)

“Will you tell us how you met Mr. Tisdale, please?”

“He was my teacher. At the Learning Attic. I took his class because I wanted to learn more about writing plays. I thought
I had writing talent and I wanted an expert opinion.”

“At what point did your relationship become sexual?”

“We started having sex almost right away.” I didn’t want to hear this. I looked at Kelia, who was furiously chewing her nails
to the quick. “I could tell he liked me just by the way he looked at me. He’d leave notes on my papers like, ‘See me after
class.’ Nobody else got notes like that. We started going for drinks after class. One night he offered to drive me home in
his van even
though I had my car. I mean, I was parked right there in front of the street and he knew it. I let him drive me home, figuring
I could always go pick up my car the next day. He drove to Baker’s Point, out by the old train tracks. He kissed me for the
first time that night.” She stopped and looked down at her fingernails. She looked as if she might cry. But her face quickly
hardened and she continued. “He told me he was getting a divorce. And I was stupid enough to believe him.”

Omar let the words hang there for a moment. Then he asked, “Ms. Elkins, did you know that Roger Tisdale had a son?”

“That first time in the van, I noticed the kiddy seat. But when I asked Roger about it, he said it was for his sister’s kid.
He said they were visiting from Atlanta and he borrowed the car seat from a neighbor. Lynette something.”

“So,” Omar continued, watching Judge Brand as he addressed Alyssa, “Roger Tisdale didn’t want you to know that the car seat
in the back of his van belonged to his own son.”

“That’s what I just said,” Alyssa answered.

“At what point did you discover that Roger Tisdale did, in fact, have a child?”

“I called and I heard Pete in the background and he was screaming something like, ‘Daddy, Daddy, look at me, Daddy.’ So I
asked him, Who’s that? That’s when he told me. He told me the truth. He really did have a son.”

“Why do you suppose Mr. Tisdale kept it a secret from you?”

“He said he didn’t want to scare me off. But I tried to tell him, I loved kids. I was an ed major. I wanted to teach kindergarten.
I loved kids.”

“Ms. Elkins, as someone with a background in early childhood development, you must have some sense of the qualities that make
a good parent.” Alyssa straightened up and assumed a squinty, studious look. “Do you believe that Roger Tisdale is a good
father? I will remind you, Miss Elkins, that you are in a court of law, and you have already provided your sworn testimony
in your deposition. So let me ask the question again. Do you believe that Roger Tisdale is a good father?”

Alyssa lifted her eyes and glanced at Roger. “No, I don’t.”

“And why not?” Omar prodded.

“Because a good father wouldn’t leave his kid home alone the way Roger did. Hours at a time. While we were miles away. Having
sex.”

Omar folded his arms and tossed a disgusted glare at Roger. “Can you elaborate, please?”

Alyssa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and pushed them back down again. She cleared
her throat. “Look. It was his idea. Not mine. I kept telling him it was a bad idea.”

“Please continue, Miss Elkins,” Omar said.

“It happened three or four times. Maybe five. His wife would work late. Roger would page me—he’d
punch in 69, that was our little code—and that’s how I knew to come over. In the meantime, he’d get Pete down for the night,
read him a book, that kind of thing, and then when he was sure the kid was sound asleep— you know, when he was in his Alpha
sleep, his REM sleep, whatever—he’d meet me out in the driveway and we’d take off. He always locked up the house, of course.
And he left plenty of lights on so it looked like people were home. We’d go to Baker’s Point or the Econolodge. We never went
too far and we were always back within a couple of hours. But, I mean, we did leave Pete alone in the house. As far as we
knew, he never woke up. But I still thought it was a bad idea. And I told him so.”

Omar was quiet for a moment as Judge Brand absorbed the impact of Alyssa’s testimony. I didn’t quite know what to do with
my outrage. It was so long ago, and Pete, thank God, was alive and well, in spite of Roger’s negligence. I was left with a
gnawing uneasiness. As much as I’d grown to distrust and despise Roger as a husband, I always believed that Roger was a dutiful
father.

“No further questions,” Omar said. He strode back to his seat.

Sloan jumped up. “Miss Elkins, is it true that you worked as a prostitute?”

She froze.

“Miss Elkins?”

“I was an escort, and I thought we weren’t going to
talk about all that! You said we wouldn’t have to talk about that!” She was yelling at Omar now.

The judge leaned forward eagerly. “Please answer the question, Miss Elkins.”

She clenched her jaw. “I was an escort when I was in college. I did it to pay my tuition. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able
to get my degree.”

Sloan smirked. “I don’t suppose you could have gotten a job flipping burgers or bagging groceries like other college kids?”

“Do you have any idea what tuition costs these days? Those kinds of jobs wouldn’t have even paid for my textbooks, for your
information.”

“So, for the record, you offered sex in exchange for money, correct?”

Alyssa mumbled something.

Sloan rapped on the desk. “Speak up, please.”

She shut her eyes. “I said, yes.”

“Did my client know you were a prostitute? Er, excuse me, an
escort?
”

“I certainly wasn’t going to tell him. But he found out anyway.” Alyssa glared at me. “His wife told him. I mean, his ex-wife.”
Another greasy memory came gurgling up to the surface. Me and Dale at lunch. Alyssa walks in. Dale recognizes her from a party,
tells me she’s a hooker. That night I pray Roger hasn’t contracted any communicable diseases.

“Your Honor,” Sloan began, “I do hope you will consider this testimony in light of its source, a prostitute
who has admitted here today that she lies when it suits her purposes. This young woman has been engaged in criminal as well
as deceptive behavior, and I urge that her testimony be regarded with suspicion if it is to be regarded at all.”

“Look,” Alyssa said, “I’m not making any of this up. Roger left his son alone so we could go and—”

“That will be all, Miss Elkins,” Sloan interrupted. “You can leave now. Thank you for your time.”

“Wait a second—”

“I
said,
that will be all.”

“Fine!” she snapped as she rose from her seat. “I’m leaving!” She pulled her blouse down around her hips and started for the
door.