Twilight Child (32 page)

 As was the
protocol in such introductions, he did not come to the heart of his strategy
until the windup.

 “We agree
with learned counsel, your Honor, on the question of the bond between grandparents
and grandchildren. The child in question, because of his adoption by Mr.
Graham, has been provided with devoted, loving, stable grandparents. Note, too,
that no attempt has been made to erase his antecedents. The name of his natural
father has been retained. But my clients believe that contact with the parents
of his deceased father would destabilize the child”—with elephantine
deliberation, he turned his head and looked toward the older man—“in the light
of certain unstable behavior, manifested particularly by Mr. Waters, which
would be inimical to the child's emotional welfare.” Peck paused, giving her
the needed time to survey the obviously uncomfortable Mr. Waters, whose ashen
face described the rigid control he was exercising over his emotions, staring
straight ahead, eyes glazed and forlorn.

 When the big
man had begun, she had half-expected him to dramatize the issue of the woman's
widowhood. She had no illusions about the ways in which lawyers factored a
judge's personal life into their approach. Any lawyer worth his salt would be
remiss if he avoided such considerations. They certainly probed every aspect of
a jury candidate's background and personal life, and in this case the judge was
also the jury. In fact, she was somewhat amused by the clever way Peck avoided
the issue, as if to even mention it would somehow suggest pandering.

 Still she did
not connect emotionally, which, she told herself, remembering Judge Compton's
ominous remark, was a relief. She felt as if she had already passed some sort
of special test. For a judge, it was more important to observe pain than to
identify with it. It was worth another silent pat on her back. She was
perfectly capable of traversing a strictly legal and intellectual line,
listening, but not empathizing. With the strategy clearly outlined for both
sides, she could sit back, absorb the arguments, listen to the testimony, then
make a fair, wise, and dispassionate ruling. Wasn't that what being a judge
meant?

 Forte called
Mrs. Waters first, taking her through the usual questions to establish
background. She spoke in a clear voice, obviously in the tone and manner in
which she communicated with her young students. Judge Stokes could detect no
signs of instability or any trait that might make the woman an unfit
grandmother. That was not the real issue, of course, she warned herself,
glancing at Carter's highlighted notes. “As grandparents, because of the
adoption, the Waterses do not legally exist.”

 “And what
were your relations like with Mrs. Graham,” Forte asked, offering the body
language of the sympathetic while his voice strained for the noncommittal,
“both during her marriage and immediately after your son's death?” Mrs. Waters
looked toward her former daughter-in-law who met her gaze for a brief moment,
then lowered her eyes.

 “I always
thought they were fine. She was often at our house and, of course, Tray spent a
good deal of his time there, especially after”—she cleared her throat—“Chuck
was killed. It came as a shock to both of us to learn that Frances wanted us to
stop seeing Tray.”

 “But you took
no action to stop this from happening?”

 “What could
we have done? I thought it might be just a passing phase, until Tray adjusted
to his new situation.”

 “When did you
realize that your inability to see your grandson seemed to be developing into a
permanent condition?”

 “Nearly two
years went by. We heard nothing. Our gifts were returned. As far as we were
concerned, Tray had been spirited off to the ends of the earth.”

 “And you both
missed him?”

 “Of course we
did. And Tray must have missed us. We were very close.”

 “How do you
know he missed you?”

 “You don't
just take a child away from loving grandparents and expect him to accept it
willingly. Not after the relationship we had with him. As for us, it was awful.
We missed him so terribly. It just didn't seem natural, not to see him at
Christmas, on his birthdays. It just didn't seem natural.”

 There was a
brief catch in the woman's throat. One could not argue with Mrs. Waters's
genuine portrayal of her deep hurt.

 The younger
lawyer looked up from the bench, as if to assess Annie's involvement. She
deliberately kept her face frozen, nor did she move her head to acknowledge any
response.

 “Can you
describe how you and your husband spent your time with Tray?”

 “Well, we
have this house and yard. Charlie and he spent a lot of time together. They
made toys, a wagon, a basketball hoop, a tire swing. Things like that. Charlie,
my husband, is very good with his hands and he likes the outdoor life. They
worked in the garden together. And Charlie taught Tray things. Sports. How to
throw and catch a ball. How to use a baseball glove. How to fish. The usual
things that an older man imparts to a male child. Tray followed him around like
a shadow. They were inseparable. And we all went out together a great deal. To
the movies, to amusement parks, to any event that a young boy might be
interested in. Cultural things, too. I took him to the plays in my school. And
I read to him a great deal. We took long walks, played games together. We had
good times, wonderful times. We loved him deeply, you see. And he loved us.”
She paused and, with scrupulous dignity, took out a handkerchief and blew her
nose.

 “And all this
was done with the approval of the boy's mother?”

 “Not only
that. She was included as much as possible. She was as much a part of our
family as Tray.”

 “And she
manifested no antagonism, no hostility? There were no arguments, no animosity,
no ugly scenes?”

 “Not at all.
I'd say it was a normal relationship for such a situation.”

 “Situation?
Would you explain, please?”

 “Well—” The
woman looked up at Annie, as if searching for some sisterly connection. “We had
just lost our only son. It was a terrible blow.” Her voice broke, but she
straightened her shoulders, quickly regaining control. “He was all we had, you
see. We couldn't have others. And he came a bit late. Anyway, it was a terrible
tragedy for all of us. So we all sort of pulled together to soften the blow for
everyone. We took solace in each other.”

 It was, Annie
thought, strong and involving testimony, which the woman gave with clarity and
dignity. Despite all her own caveats, she could not help but sympathize. The
loss of a child had to be the most devastating trauma for a woman to go through.
Suddenly, she remembered the pain of giving birth, and seeing her children for
the first time. Quickly, she wiped the image from her mind. The man's death was
not the issue in this case.

 “And Tray?
What would you say the impact of his father's death was on him?”

 “It's hard to
tell,” Mrs. Waters said slowly. “I'd say he must have detected the sense of
grieving around him. Young children sometimes don't react the way adults expect
them to. I'm a teacher, you see—” She seemed to have interrupted herself, to
have started off on another track, and then hesitating, came back again. “I'm
sure he felt a sense of something missing. We tried to make up the loss. To
show him little of the terrible hurt to ourselves.”

 The younger
lawyer led Mrs. Waters through what Annie felt was a clever interrogation,
establishing a genuine loving tie between grandparents and grandchild. A good
start for their side, she thought. She definitely liked Mrs. Waters. She wasn't
cloying or overbearingly sentimental, and Annie noted that her husband's eyes,
moist and intense, looked at her with unmistakable admiration.

 Of course,
when Peck got up to cross-examine, the whole tenor of the interrogation
changed, although Annie could see that the big man went out of his way not to
appear hostile or overbearing. As expected, he asked benign questions at first,
standard procedure to lull witnesses into a false sense of security. From the
beginning, she could sense Mrs. Waters's discomfort.

 “Did you
know, Mrs. Waters, that the marriage between your son and his wife, Frances,
was not a happy one?”

 The woman had
paused to compose herself, although it was obvious that she had been wound up,
waiting for the hostility to begin.

 “How can
anyone know what goes on in a marriage?”

 Good answer,
Annie observed.

 “You were the
man's mother, Mrs. Waters,” the big man said gently. “Are you saying that he
never confided in you? Or that your daughter-in-law, who was, in fact, an
orphan and had no one other than you and your husband to confide in, never
mentioned that her marriage was unsatisfactory?”

 “Your Honor,”
Forte said, standing up. “I object to this line of questioning. The condition
of Mrs. Graham's first marriage is irrelevant. We are dealing here with the
relationship of the grandparents to the child.”

 “I don't
agree, Mr. Forte,” Annie said, a bit too quickly. There are roots to be
considered here, she thought. The younger lawyer sat down and began to make
notes on a yellow pad. Peck, on the other hand, rubbed his nose and waited for Mrs.
Waters's answer.

 “It was not
that he was unhappy . . .” Mrs. Waters began, clearing her
throat, looking helplessly at both her lawyer and her husband. “My son did
confide in me. Only once. He tried to explain why he preferred to live a life
away. . . .” She hesitated again, as if she knew she was getting
deeper and deeper into a maze. “He was trying to tell me that he wasn't
irresponsible, that he cared about his family very much, but that he liked
living as he did.”

 “And his
wife, Frances. Was she happy with the arrangement of having her husband off
working in foreign countries most of the time?”

 “No, she
wasn't.”

 “She told you
that?”

 “Yes.”

 “In fact, it
was a terrible marriage, wasn't it, Mrs. Waters?”

 “I wouldn't
use that strong a word.”

 “Not a good
one, then?”

 “Maybe.”

 “A marriage
that a young girl might want to forget?”

 “My son was
still Tray's father,” Mrs. Waters whispered. Then trying to rally, she said,
“He loved his son.”

 “But you
couldn't call him an especially good father?”

 “When he was
home—”

 “But he was
hardly home. Now, that is not a good father in the traditional sense, is it,
Mrs. Waters?”

 Mrs. Waters
shrugged. For a moment, she seemed to lose her poise and looked toward her
former daughter-in-law, who averted her eyes.

 “The point is
that I was always very supportive of Frances.” She continued to look intensely
at the young woman. “Wasn't I, Frances?”

 Mrs. Graham
looked up suddenly, and their eyes met.

 “Just answer
the questions, Mrs. Waters,” Annie said. Peck continued.

 “How did you
feel about your daughter-in-law's marriage to Mr. Graham?”

 “I was very
happy for her.”

 “Despite the
fact that it was so soon after your son's death?”

 “I thought it
was the best thing for her. She needed someone to take care of her. And Tray
needed a father. I had no objection.”

 “Not to the
adoption, either?”

 She seemed
suddenly to lose her poise. “What could we do?”

 “Did you
object?”

 “No. We
didn't consider—”

 “You didn't
object?”

 “No.”

 “And your
husband? What was his attitude toward the marriage with Mr. Graham?”

 She hesitated
and looked helplessly at her husband. Forte nodded and closed his eyes in a
reassuring gesture.

 “He wasn't
too happy about it. He felt it was, well, not respectful to marry so soon.”

 “And did he
try to prevent it?”

 “He couldn't
prevent it, could he? He merely expressed his opinion that it was too soon
after . . .”

 “In point of
fact, he reacted very badly, didn't he? Offering insults . . .”

 “Okay then,
he was not very happy about it. He loved his son very much. I understood his
point.” She was obviously rattled.

 “But you,
too, loved your son. And you didn't object.”

 “I guess
maybe that was because I'm a woman—I suppose I understood her needs.”

 “And you also
understood it when Frances came to you and said you were not to see your
grandson for the time being so that he could adjust to his new situation?”

 “I
understood. Yes. But I thought it would be temporary. I never expected it to go
on for so long.”

 “But your
husband was completely hostile to the idea and created still another scene.”

 “He did not
like the idea of not seeing his own grandson—for whatever length of time.”

 “But you
understood?”

 “I didn't
approve.”

 “And you did
consent not to interfere with the decision?”

 “Only
because, as I told you, I thought it was temporary. I trusted her on that
score.”

 “So what made
you suddenly change your mind?”

 “It wasn't
suddenly. It was two years.”

 Annie wasn't
sure where this was leading, and she wondered if she was letting it go too far.
What was Peck trying to establish and why? she wondered. Mrs. Waters seemed to
gather the threads of her composure, which had begun to unravel. She sucked in
a deep breath.