Let's Make It Legal (12 page)

“Kara is an intelligent ten-year-old girl who has just as many rights as you or I do. She knows how she feels, and she knows with whom she wants to live. She is not a piece of property to be bartered over or sold. Shanna Montgomery has always treated Kara as her possession, and I’m afraid she always will. When it was inconvenient to keep her, she tossed her away, and now that her circumstances have changed, she wants Kara back.

“I say Shanna forfeited the right to her child years ago. I say Kara’s rights supersede any that Shanna might still have. I say that in your hearts you must know this, too. Be brave, ladies and gentlemen. The easy choice would be to deny Kara her petition. To force her to return to her mother. The right decision is harder. But I have confidence in you. I think you’ll make that hard decision. I think you’ll show the world that you agree with me, that our children must be accorded the same rights as the adults in this country enjoy.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen, do it. Do what you know is right in your heart. Show Kara that you respect her as a person. Show her that she has more value than a television set or a piece of land. Let her divorce her birth mother, and allow her to remain with the parents she loves.”

John could almost hear Sydney’s sigh before she ended with, “Thank you,” and walked briskly back to her seat.

There was a rustle and buzz in the courtroom before the judge rapped his gavel smartly and said, “Quiet!”

The buzz subsided.

“Mr. Randall?” the judge said.

Rick Randall, the attorney representing Shanna Montgomery, stood. John knew Rick Randall slightly and knew that he was commonly referred to as Slick Rick because he so often managed to win difficult cases. He was a talented speaker with considerable acting skills, a real asset in the courtroom. He also had an all-American look, and John knew juries liked him. Today he wore a gray suit and light blue shirt with a dark blue tie.

He paced in front of the jury box, smiling at each juror as he did. John looked at Sydney. She was listening to something her assistant was saying to her.

Rick Randall cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, despite what my esteemed colleague has said to you, the fact remains that Shanna Montgomery is Kara Montgomery’s mother. Lottie McKinsey is not. And George McKinsey is not Kara’s father.”

He shrugged. “Those are the facts. Another fact is that the McKinseys made a promise. A sworn, written promise when they became foster parents. A promise they want you to conveniently forget. That promise was that they would never attempt to keep, on any kind of permanent basis, any of the children they contracted to care for. That they fully understood that these children were only in their custody
temporarily.
They signed that statement, ladies and gentlemen, before witnesses. They took a solemn oath, just as you all did when you became jurors, and now... now.. .they want to pretend that oath was never made.

“And why?” Rick Randall turned around and pointed his index finger directly at the McKinseys. “I’ll tell you why! Because Lottie and George McKinsey have changed their minds. That’s why. They’ve changed their minds, and they want to renege on their promise.” He turned again to face the jury.

“Because we all know, ladies and gentlemen, that the plaintiff’s attorney can say this suit was brought about solely because Kara Montgomery wants it, but I maintain—and I know you all would agree with me—that a ten-year-old girl would never come up with the idea of divorcing her mother unless that idea was planted in her head.

“Do we really want to allow the McKinseys to adopt Kara? A couple who would swear to one thing and do another? Do we really want to penalize a mother who, through no fault of her own, had to give her child over to other people’s care temporarily? Is that the message we want to send the world? That if a woman does the right thing, gives her child over to the temporary custody of the state, that when the time comes when she
can
care for her daughter, she will be denied?

“Do we want the world to believe that the state of Texas rewards liars and punishes those who are truthful? My esteemed colleague would have us believe that Kara Montgomery has certain rights. I agree. She, like all other children, has the right to security, food, a place to live, someone to watch over her and freedom from abuse and cruelty. Her mother made sure those rights were taken care of. I don’t think, however, that Kara Montgomery, or any other ten-year-old child, has the right to make decisions like this one. There’s a reason children aren’t allowed to vote or serve in armies or work in factories. The reason is, they are children. They do not have either the physical or emotional maturity to make their own decisions.

“Why, if we allowed our children to make all their own decisions, we know exactly what they would be, don’t we? They would decide they didn’t want to go to school, they didn’t want to eat their green beans, and—when crossed—that they didn’t want to live with their parents anymore.”

Rick Randall made a scoffing sound, and his meaning was clear to everyone in the courtroom, John was sure. “This is ridiculous, ladies and gentlemen. Neither Kara Montgomery nor any other child under the age of eighteen should be allowed to decide how and where they want to live.

“There is only one right decision in this case. I know it, and you know it. Return Kara Montgomery to her rightful place—with her mother, Shanna.”

He smiled at the jurors. “Thank you. You’ve been a wonderful jury.”

A bravura performance, John thought. But he thought Sydney had done an excellent job, as well. Now the jury would decide.

Although John had planned to leave without talking to Sydney, as he moved toward the exit along with the other spectators, Sydney looked in his direction, and their gazes met.

Even from this distance, he saw the flush of pleasure on her cheeks, the surprised light in her eyes. He smiled and raised his hand in greeting. She smiled back. The blond woman he’d noticed earlier was standing alongside Sydney, and as John worked his way through the crowd to where they stood, he realized how much the two women resembled each other.

“John,” Sydney said as he came within speaking distance, “I had no idea you were here. You never said you planned to come.”

“I just decided last night.” He wanted to lean over and kiss her cheek, but contented himself with taking her hand and squeezing it.

“John, I want you to meet my sister, Claire Stevens. Claire, this is John Appleton, a friend of mine.”

“Hello, John.” Claire Stevens held out her hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said. Claire wasn’t as tall as her sister, but she had the same intense blue eyes and her face was the same shape as Sydney’s. He noticed that she looked him over curiously.

“Sydney did a wonderful job, I thought,” Claire said.

“I agree.”

Sydney smiled. “I hope the jury agrees.”

“I hope you don’t have to wait too long to find out,” Claire said.

“Actually,” Sydney said, “the longer we have to wait, the better it will be for us.” Her gaze met John’s.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Why is that?” Claire asked, looking at him.

“It’s just as Sydney said,” John answered. “The easy decision would be to deny Kara’s request. The harder one would be to grant it. Harder decisions always take longer.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Claire asked.

“Go back to the office and wait, I guess.” Sydney’s gaze met John’s again.

The three of them walked out of the courtroom together. Once they reached the main floor of the Family Law Center, Claire said, “Well, I parked across the street, so I guess I’ll say goodbye.” She and Sydney hugged, then Claire turned to John. “I hope I see you again sometime.”

“I hope so, too.”

Once she was gone, he took Sydney’s arm, and they exited the building together. The November day was bright and warmer than it had been for weeks. “Did you drive over?” John asked.

“No, I walked.”

“I’ll walk back with you, if that’s okay.”

“But what about your car? Isn’t it parked around here?”

“It won’t kill me to walk both ways.” He let go of her elbow and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He smiled into her eyes. “I’ve missed you. I haven’t seen you since Saturday night.”

And then, completely ignoring the people on the street, and the fact that someone they knew might see them, and the fact that it was totally inappropriate and completely out of character for him to do so, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

The verdict came in on Thursday.

At two o’clock, Sydney got the call. Five minutes later, accompanied by the two other lawyers on her team, she was on her way.

Kara and the McKinseys were waiting for her in the hallway outside the courtroom. Photographers and reporters and dozens of spectators milled around.

Sydney’s stomach felt queasy, but she maintained a calm facade. She squeezed Kara’s shoulder. The little girl’s big amber eyes looked scared.

Lottie and George McKinsey looked equally frightened.

Sydney took a deep breath as the jury filed in.

“Mr. Foreman, have you reached your verdict?” Judge Andrews asked.

The jury foreman said, “Yes, Your Honor, we have.” He handed a slip of paper to the bailiff, who handed it to the judge. The judge read it impassively, nodded once, then handed it back to the bailiff.

The bailiff handed the paper back to the foreman, who opened it and said, “In the matter of Montgomery versus Montgomery, we the jury find in favor of the plaintiff, Kara Montgomery.”

Cheers erupted at Sydney’s table, and a babble of excited voices burst forth from the spectators.

“No!” shouted Shanna Montgomery. “No!” She lunged toward Kara, but her attorney grabbed her and held her back. “Kara!” she called, tears running down her face.

The McKinseys hugged Kara and each other, then, one on either side of Kara, came up to Sydney to thank her. Lottie McKinsey’s pale blue eyes were filled with happy tears.

Relief made Sydney feel weak as she smiled and accepted their thanks. She stooped down. She and Kara hugged. “Be happy, Kara,” she said.

“I’ll miss you,” Kara said. “Will you come and see me sometime?”

“I’ll try,” Sydney said, knowing she would never go. It was always best to make a clean break.

“Come on, Kara,” Lottie said. “We have to go now.”

Then the three of them were gone.

It was an hour before Sydney was able to get away from the reporters and return to her office.

When she got there, the office was abuzz.

“Congratulations, Miss Wells,” Norma said. “And guess what? The producer of the
Geneva Ward Show
called and wants you to call her back.” Awe and excitement filled her voice as she said the name of the popular syndicated talk show. “And your father called. Twice.”

Sydney could care less about the talk show. She figured her father must have already heard about the verdict.

“I heard it on CNN,” he said gleefully when she called him back. “Damn, I’m proud of you, Sydney. CNN! It’s just as I told you. Everyone’s going to know your name. Soon the sky will be the limit.”

Sydney stopped herself before blurting out that she didn’t care about all of that. She knew it would upset him if she admitted that fame wasn’t her objective. He would probably have a heart attack if she told him about the
Geneva
show and that, if they had called to invite her to appear, she would turn the invitation down.

“The reporter said your argument was ‘brilliantly conceived,’ ” her father continued. “His exact words were ‘brilliantly conceived and the exact note to strike with the jury.’” He laughed triumphantly. “I can’t wait to read what the
Chronicle
and the
Post
have to say.”

The more her father talked, the more deflated Sydney felt, and if anyone had asked her why, she wouldn’t have been able to answer.

“What’s wrong?” her father said when he’d wound down. “Aren’t you excited? Did something happen that you’re not telling me?”

Sydney forced herself to answer brightly. “No, of course not. I’m just tired. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. And you know... the tension is finally over”

“One good night’s sleep is all you need,” he said. “Boy, Sydney, didn’t I
tell
you? By God, you
should’ve
been a man. You’ve got all the right stuff.”

As her father’s exuberance continued unabated, Sydney eyed the roses John had sent her. They were still fresh-looking, and their fragrance permeated the office. Something painful twisted inside her. “Dad,” she interrupted. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a lot of calls to return.”

“Oh, sure, of course you do! Well, we can talk tonight. Since this case is really special, we’re really gonna celebrate. I’m taking you to Tony’s.”

Her father and mother always took her out to dinner to celebrate her victories, and most of the time, Sydney enjoyed it. Today, though, for some reason, Sydney didn’t feel the same enthusiasm she usually felt. The thought of going to Tony’s, where all the movers and shakers of Houston liked to see and be seen, left her completely cold. Besides, what if John—?

She broke off the thought.

John had said nothing about taking her out tonight, although he had asked her to call him as soon as she knew the verdict.

She started to tell her father she might not be able to go out with him tonight, then thought better of it. He would want to know why, and how could she explain that she hoped John would ask her out? Her father didn’t know anything about John, and she wasn’t ready to tell him.

She said goodbye, then immediately called John’s office. Their receptionist had returned from her vacation, and she answered the phone.

“I’ll connect you with Mr. Appleton,” she said after Sydney identified herself.

“Sydney! Is it in?” John said before she’d even said hello.

“Yes. We won.”

“That’s
great!
Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Has the euphoria worn off yet?”

She laughed softly. “What are you, a mind reader?”