I consider Starcher and what this might mean in the war being waged by his biological parents. His mothers aren’t legally married so I suppose it’s okay for one or both to see other women, though I seriously doubt they have an open relationship. How am I supposed to know the rules? But if Ava finds out, there will be even more warfare, more grief for the kid. And more ammunition for me.
I consider calling Partner and getting him to follow Judith, maybe take some photos.
As I consider all of this and sip a whiskey sour, Judith appears from around the corner and walks straight to our table. In the distance I see her friend leave hurriedly through the front door, one last furtive, tell-all glance over her shoulder. Judith, in full-bitch mode, says, “Well, well, didn’t expect to see you here.”
I’m not about to allow her to intimidate Naomi, who’s temporarily stricken. I say, “Didn’t expect to see you either. Here alone?”
“Yes,” she says. “Just picking up some takeout.”
“Oh really. Then who’s the girl?”
“What girl?”
“The girl in the booth. Short sandy hair, buzzed on one side in the current fad. The girl who just broke her neck getting out of the front door. Does Ava know about her?”
“Oh, that girl. She’s just a friend. Does the school allow its teachers to date its parents?”
“It’s frowned upon but not prohibited,” Naomi says coolly.
“Does Ava allow you to date other people?” I ask.
“Wasn’t a date. She’s just a friend.”
“Then why did you just lie about her? Why did you lie about the takeout?”
She ignores me and glares at Naomi. “I guess I should report this to the school.”
“Go ahead,” I say. “I’ll report it to Ava. Is she keeping Starcher while you’re out fooling around?”
“I’m not fooling around and my son is none of your business right now. You blew it last weekend.”
A little Thai guy in a suit eases over and with a big smile asks, “Everything okay here?”
“Yes, she’s just leaving,” I say. I look at Judith. “Please. We’re trying to order.”
“See you in court,” she hisses and turns on her heels. I watch her leave and she does not take any food with her. The little Thai guy slides away, still smiling. We drain our drinks and eventually look at the menus.
After a few minutes, I say, “Our secret is safe. She won’t say anything to the school because she knows I’ll call Ava.”
“You’d really do that?”
“In the blink of an eye. This is a war, Naomi, and there are no rules, no thoughts of fighting fair.”
“Do you want custody of Starcher?”
“No. I’m not a good enough father. But I do want to remain relevant in his life. Who knows? One day he and I might be friends.”
We spend the night at her place and sleep late Saturday morning. We’re both exhausted. We awake to the sounds of heavy rain and decide to fix omelets and eat in bed.
The last witness for the defense is the defendant himself. Before he is called on Monday morning, I hand the judge and the prosecutor a letter I’ve written to Tadeo Zapate. Its purpose is to inform him in writing that he is testifying against the advice of his attorney. I grilled him for two hours the day before, and he thinks he’s ready.
He swears to tell the truth, smiles nervously at the jury, and immediately learns the frightful lesson that the view from the witness stand is quite intimidating. Everyone is gawking and waiting to hear what he might possibly say in his defense. A court reporter will record every word. The judge is scowling down, as if she’s ready for a quick reprimand. The prosecutor is eager to pounce. His mother far away in the back row looks terribly worried. He takes a deep breath.
I walk him through his background—family, education, employment, lack of criminal record, boxing career, and his success in mixed martial arts. The jury, along with everyone else in the courtroom, is sick of the video, so I won’t show it. Sticking to our script, we talk about the fight and he does an adequate job of describing what it was like getting hit so many times. He and I know that Crush did not land many serious blows, but no one on the jury understands this. He tells the jury he doesn’t remember the end of the fight, but can recollect a fuzzy image of his opponent raising his arms in a victory that he didn’t deserve. Yes, he snapped, though he can’t really recall everything. He was overwhelmed by a sense of injustice. His career was gone, stolen. He vaguely remembers the referee raising Crush’s arm, then everything went black. The next thing he remembered, he was in the dressing room, and two cops were watching him. He asked the cops who won the fight, and one of them said, “Which fight?” They put handcuffs on him and explained he was under arrest for aggravated assault. He was baffled by this, couldn’t believe what was happening. At the jail, another cop told him Sean King was in critical condition. He, Tadeo, began crying.
Even today, he still can’t believe it. His voice cracks a bit and he wipes something from his left eye. He’s not a very good actor.
